:|If|:|I|:|Had|:|It|:|My|:|Way|: {Tsarashi}
Jan 9, 2011 21:38:03 GMT -5
Post by peanutpie on Jan 9, 2011 21:38:03 GMT -5
Phoenix Medona
[/size][/font][/color]
“I want you to love me…
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession…”
Phoenix slipped the simple green shirt over her head. The tent was pleasantly cool, and as she looked at her sleeping siblings, she sighed and blinked twice, reminding herself of the way that she used to sleep in forever.
Her Mother sat in the corner, propped against the wooden chair that Phoenix used for bringing home school work. She was half-asleep, with her lazy eye observing her daughter with an half amused, half-demented way. Her Mother had always been a little bit on the sad, and pathetic side.
"Goodbye, Mother." She said in a careful way, trying to let her voice ring instead of change itself. If she used the wrong tone, she probably would be able to create a conversation with her mother. Phoenix, who was decently intelligent, didn't want to get into an "intellectual" conversation with a woman who'd had eight children, and couldn't financially support them.
It made her sick to her stomach as she closed the tent flap behind her and stepped out onto the street. She lived in the part of the district that was on the woods side, where the leaves would crinkle when you'd step on them. The poorer side of town, in most opinions. She crossed her fingers as she stepped onto the dirt road, hoping to find her obsession within eyesight.
No Bear. She sighed slightly, before stepping onto her tiptoes and turning around on them to face the tent. She heard a rattling of pots and the scream of a small child.
Good 'Ol Mom.
Yes, the same Mom that was fairly pretty, and killed all eight of her lovers. And she didn't have a speck of jail time for it, mostly because she claimed insanity for it. So, they let her Mother go, as long as they "Didn't hear about it again." But, of course, by the time they found out, they forgot about the entire offense, and with the batting of her Mothers eyelashes, she was released.
Out to kill another life. Good 'Ol Mom. The very woman who's sanity sent her own daughters overboard, probably driving her to the stalking she was accustomed to. She brought her head to the bottom of the tent, before finally putting one foot infront of the other and taking a swirling pattern into the dirt. Her bare feet felt a little raw from hitting a rock in the twirling process, but when she looked out to the horizon, she saw the street path that contained the small trees across from the tent.
The spot where her first memory was. Before Mom went into insanity and murder. She shuddered, smiling at the thought. She just remembered... running. In circles, her arms extended out. She smiled, and then looked backwards towards the tent. Today she was being perfectly sentimental about that, for some reason.
With hesitation, she closed her eyes and thought harder. Could she remember her Father? She pictured a dark haired man, with light skin and the same black-frame glasses. Yep, the same image from the picture she found stuffed in her Mothers cigarette carton.
The one where he sat at a kitchen table of some variety, wearing a blue sweater. He seemed to be the type of district six dweller who worked in the scientific research field, probably curing some disease or another. The dark hair was cut in a particuarly nerdy fashion, meant for practicality. It seemed to be glossed down, if anything, slightly. It was the hair texture that was probably slightly curly, the type that never stayed the way you wanted it to, explaining the hair gel that was smeared in it. He had dark brown eyes, a medium sized nose and a mouth that was thin. The black frames he wore were slightly put on the edge of his nose, giving him almost a snarky quality. In one hand, he held a green coffee cup, and the other was placed on the table. He had a slight smile on his face, one that was saying "I know, just don't take a picture of me."
Phoenix remembered finding the picture when she was yet again watching the children who lived under her Mothers household. She had left the metal cigarette box around, and out of curiosity, she had opened it, and found the picture. On the back, it was labled "Johnatho" and the year Phoenix was born. And, just by common knowlege, she knew that she looked simmilar to the person on the picture. And her Mother had told her his first name, when she wasn't in a rage of craziness.
Fingering her top, she finally strode towards the street, her footprints echoing with eachother. She sighed, and finally decided to do something. She jumped up, landing back on her feet. And, something fell out of her pocket.
It was a ribbon, but important noneless. She decided to consult a girl who was walking by. "Hello? Have you seen my ribbon?"
“I want you to want me
I want you to need me
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession.”
I want you to need me
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession.”
