Post by MASLYNN LIA ROY on Dec 26, 2011 17:30:32 GMT -5
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i've got dreams like you--no really!
Massy's Christmas memories aren't exactly the best recently. When she was little, Christmas was really wonderful, in a strange sort of way. She and Mark would go with their grandmother to visit their great aunt, and come home two days before Christmas. Though, when they got there, their father was at his worse, making Christmas as horrifying as he could, that week in Oklahoma was always beautiful enough for them to pretend it wasn't happening. Massy often theorized that her father just hated when others, especially those close to him, were happier than he was.
But ever since he died, Christmas became a little more normal for Mark and Massy. There was no one to burn the tree or destroy the decorations. No one was putting whiskey in the eggnog or yelling profanities. And Massy planned to make it the best Christmas yet, because this year, she was bringing home Story. She didn't want to bring him into a half-broken home after everything he'd already had to face. She wanted things to be perfect for him. She'd called Mark about ten thousand times to make sure he was still picking them up, and that the Christmas tree was decorated and everything was in order for them. Mark had casually inquired about her relationship with "this dumb Story kid" every time she called, and she had had to continuously point out that they were just really close friends. Mark didn't believe her, but that didn't bother her too much. He thought she was dating every boy she hung out with.
But what did bother her, was that Mark was late picking she and Story up. By ten minutes, so far, and there was still no sign of him. He wasn't picking up his cell or answering her texts, and Massy was about ready to claw her own eyes out in frustration.
"I told him not to be late! He promised me one hundred times that he would be here on time!" Massy stormed around the room, barely noticing that she was pacing out of frustration. She felt the sudden need to throw things, and that was her queue to try and calm down. She stopped walking abruptly and sank down into one of the plastic chairs, next to Story but facing away from, towards the door. She stuck her hands in between her thighs because it was cold, even inside.
After a few minutes, she turned to Story with a frown. "I'm sorry I'm freaking out. I just really didn't want to be stuck here forever while we waited for Mark." That wasn't altogether true, but it sounded better than disclosing her determination to make his holiday totally perfect.
She wished, for the gazillionth time since she discovered it, that her power would extend to her own mind. There had to be a way to unlock it. It was just too cruelly ironic to make everyone else in the world feel happier or calmer, but not be able to do so herself.
But ever since he died, Christmas became a little more normal for Mark and Massy. There was no one to burn the tree or destroy the decorations. No one was putting whiskey in the eggnog or yelling profanities. And Massy planned to make it the best Christmas yet, because this year, she was bringing home Story. She didn't want to bring him into a half-broken home after everything he'd already had to face. She wanted things to be perfect for him. She'd called Mark about ten thousand times to make sure he was still picking them up, and that the Christmas tree was decorated and everything was in order for them. Mark had casually inquired about her relationship with "this dumb Story kid" every time she called, and she had had to continuously point out that they were just really close friends. Mark didn't believe her, but that didn't bother her too much. He thought she was dating every boy she hung out with.
But what did bother her, was that Mark was late picking she and Story up. By ten minutes, so far, and there was still no sign of him. He wasn't picking up his cell or answering her texts, and Massy was about ready to claw her own eyes out in frustration.
"I told him not to be late! He promised me one hundred times that he would be here on time!" Massy stormed around the room, barely noticing that she was pacing out of frustration. She felt the sudden need to throw things, and that was her queue to try and calm down. She stopped walking abruptly and sank down into one of the plastic chairs, next to Story but facing away from, towards the door. She stuck her hands in between her thighs because it was cold, even inside.
After a few minutes, she turned to Story with a frown. "I'm sorry I'm freaking out. I just really didn't want to be stuck here forever while we waited for Mark." That wasn't altogether true, but it sounded better than disclosing her determination to make his holiday totally perfect.
She wished, for the gazillionth time since she discovered it, that her power would extend to her own mind. There had to be a way to unlock it. It was just too cruelly ironic to make everyone else in the world feel happier or calmer, but not be able to do so herself.
TAGGED: Story! | WORDS: 502 | OUTFIT | OOC: quoting tangled like a boss
