ratmas rivals.— [charlemagne/etta]
Dec 17, 2021 4:34:00 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2021 4:34:00 GMT -5
"Oh I just can't wait to be king!"
When I knocked on the door to the Fray house part of me hoped that Etta wouldn't be home. I knew she was there, I wasn't born yesterday. In fact, her parents definitely knew I was coming. I don't know if they told her that or not. My parents wouldn't have sent me over unless they were positive she would be home. If I had to walk all the way here in the cold for nothing, they'd get a mouthful when I got home.
Etta Fray was not my friend. Our parents wanted us to be friends, but I feel like that only made us dislike each other more. I remember when we were little and they'd make us come over for playdates. One year in the winter I locked her outside in the backyard for over an hour before my parents got home. They weren't happy with me.
But hey, I wasn't happy with them or the friend they picked out for me either.
Etta wouldn't be too bad if she didn't think she was so much better than everyone. Whenever we're training together she always tries to show off. And she makes herself look like a fool in doing so because I'm much more naturally talented than her. It's part of being a Fray I guess, having an undeserved sense of accomplishment. Look at what good that did for Bastian.
I knocked again, a bit louder. I was beginning to get impatient. The box that held her gift was light at least. Mom wrapped it so it would look nice, she picked out the gift, and she picked out the wrapping paper. All I did was write her name on it. Originally I just wrote Fray but she insist I add Etta's first name too.
The wrapping paper itself was a sparkling rose gold, Mom thought it would look nice with the scarf. Personally I don't think some pink scarf is really Fray's style. Maybe if we got her some duct tape we'd get her to shut up for once. But ever since I bought one joke gift, all of my gift selections for Fray have to go through Mom first. Dad didn't think it was funny either, but he has more important things to spend his time on.
I mean, I also have more important things to spend my time on than freezing to death outside some girls house. When I'm older, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and I volunteer and become a Victor I won't have to worry about that anymore. It won't matter how busy Dad is or what Mom wants me to do. I'll be a Victor. I'll finally be what I was meant to be. But for now, I'm just cold. Hurry the fuck up, Fray.
Etta Fray was not my friend. Our parents wanted us to be friends, but I feel like that only made us dislike each other more. I remember when we were little and they'd make us come over for playdates. One year in the winter I locked her outside in the backyard for over an hour before my parents got home. They weren't happy with me.
But hey, I wasn't happy with them or the friend they picked out for me either.
Etta wouldn't be too bad if she didn't think she was so much better than everyone. Whenever we're training together she always tries to show off. And she makes herself look like a fool in doing so because I'm much more naturally talented than her. It's part of being a Fray I guess, having an undeserved sense of accomplishment. Look at what good that did for Bastian.
I knocked again, a bit louder. I was beginning to get impatient. The box that held her gift was light at least. Mom wrapped it so it would look nice, she picked out the gift, and she picked out the wrapping paper. All I did was write her name on it. Originally I just wrote Fray but she insist I add Etta's first name too.
The wrapping paper itself was a sparkling rose gold, Mom thought it would look nice with the scarf. Personally I don't think some pink scarf is really Fray's style. Maybe if we got her some duct tape we'd get her to shut up for once. But ever since I bought one joke gift, all of my gift selections for Fray have to go through Mom first. Dad didn't think it was funny either, but he has more important things to spend his time on.
I mean, I also have more important things to spend my time on than freezing to death outside some girls house. When I'm older, maybe sixteen or seventeen, and I volunteer and become a Victor I won't have to worry about that anymore. It won't matter how busy Dad is or what Mom wants me to do. I'll be a Victor. I'll finally be what I was meant to be. But for now, I'm just cold. Hurry the fuck up, Fray.
