Glittering [OPEN; see note]
May 1, 2012 0:24:48 GMT -5
Post by meg. on May 1, 2012 0:24:48 GMT -5
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And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind
nb: This thread is open to careers, or other characters that have a reason for being at the party. To make this thread more fun for all involved, it would be nice if everyone could try and write over 300 words per post. Enjoy!
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IOSANNA BELL
[/center][/size][/right]A Nor-easterly, the forecast had said. It was a lemon-faced wind that found a way to permeate into each nook of the sea-front city, and sharpened the fast-coming rain so it each prick was painful. As she watched the newly budded branches bluster in the gale, for a second she was glad that the party was at her house. Then her thoughts turned to all of the people she was going to have to make contact with, all the people that she had not spoken to since her accident, and suddenly the idea was much more threatening. But the fact that all of those preppy girls in their ridiculously expensive dresses would have to blunder through horrific weather from their cars to her door, that gave her some small form of relief.
Although well insulated, the open-plan house echoed with the wind. The noise was like the grinding of ones teeth, and gave Iosanna gooseflesh behind her ears. In an attempt to mask this- like a sticking plaster on an amputation, Iosanna thought- her parents had put on a music track. Its empty words were yellow, and it tasted like pancakes, for it was a song that had oft been played on a Sunday morning in the summer, through ‘Sanna’s childhood. It did not suit a sour night of her adolescent woes. Had this night been two years ago, then it would have gone swimmingly in tune with her thoughts- harmonizingly, even. Her first Reaping Party had been a joyous affair- many nights had been spent pouring over dresses, her hair and makeup painstakingly perfect, and her excitement painted into fantastic patterns on her fingernails. Oh, but the fact that she was now old enough to go to a party, to get a reputation. Oh, how things had changed. Then, she would have given anything to have a high enough social status to host the ball herself. Oh, the irony. Although twelve months ago, when the host had been chosen, she had that sort of reputation, now she as a nobody, a formality, because tradition insisted that a host, once chosen, must not be changed.
Two years ago, having a custom-made dress would have made her squeal with delight. Now, the slick of beaded green stared at her patronizingly from its hanger, its well-pinned shawl carefully placed so that the dead stump, where an arm once grew, wasn’t completely obvious. Because, let’s face it, no-one wanted to stare at such an ugly disability, least of all Iosanna Bell. The choice, however, was not hers. It was stuck with her for good, highlighting it’s presence in her world in every fleeting moment that she lost, every moment that she would once have used to her benefit.
Roughly, she pulled on the dress, caring not as the material crumpled in pain. Turning to the mirror, she looked at herself but for a moment. It was a big step for her. Her own face had almost faded for a moment, but it took a breath to retrieve it. Her own face, her own stupid face glared back at her, and a full stop on her left arm told her who she really was- a cripple. There was a quaver in her pelvis- nought but an eyelashes’ fall, or a purse of the lips- that fought so bad to be the Career girl she once was. The naïve, stupid girl who really believed that social status mattered and that life was beautiful and forever. All too soon, she had been taught that forever did not exist. Infinite was but a perception, a phrase used by scientists and romantics- those who did not really know how the world worked. She was not that girl any more. And tonight’s social occasion would prove that, she was so sure of it- almost infinitely sure of it. But not quite.
The darkness had hungrily dissolved the city, turning the wintery greys into blacks. Fifteen minutes, and the guests would be arriving. Not that Iosanna cared. But still, she slipped into the marble-clad bathroom to lighten her face with make-up. Had she been watching a movie of herself, she would have scoffed- this character had been so adamant that she did not care about impressing any of the invitees tonight. But something deep down really wanted to show them that there was still a small part of her life that was beautiful- even if it was a part that Iosanna did not currently know.
And, indeed, Iosanna did not know of all the beauty in her life.
And now all your love is wasted
Then who the hell was I?
'Cause now I'm breaking at the britches
[/color]Then who the hell was I?
'Cause now I'm breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines [/CENTER] [/size][/blockquote]