Have you ever created a vision of someone in your head and then actually met them, or paid attention to what they say, or at all noticed anything they’ve ever done and realized that your vision is complete crap? That’s what happened to me long after I wrote this story.
The characterization of Frankie and Gerard is… atrocious feels like the right word. And for a chapter that takes place at Thanksgiving there is very little thanks, and no food.
Thanksgiving day, I woke up at 6AM. I’m always the first and only person up on Thanksgiving. I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. I looked in all the cabinets and everywhere for something that I could whip up right then. Nothing. Not even a box of cereal, oh well; I guess I’ll just be hungry. I sat at the kitchen counter and tapped the table.
You could, like, go to the grocery store and buy some stuff. Sadly a lot of them are probably still open on Thanksgiving. Also, shouldn’t there be something in the house to eat?
My mind wondered, I pondered everything from death to what would happen if your shoes melted to the ground.
Naturally, I always jump from my own impending mortality to the most inane, idiotic thing in the world.
The attempts to be clever/funny in this story greatly pain me. But I know I had to go through it to get to where I am, which is making a lot of lame jokes on twitter and then laughing at my own cleverness.
“Maria,” Someone asked me walking into the room. They snapped in my face and my vision went back to normal.
“Ya sorry?” I asked looking up at Lisa, her hair was slightly tousled and she still looked asleep.
“What were you thinking about?” She tried to hint at something sexual. She yawned in the middle of it so it turned out as more of a “did you and Gerard make pancakes?” Type of thing.
WHAT?! WHAT? WHAT?!? That’s not a “thing” there is no tone of voice that implies making pancakes. That just doesn’t exist.
“I was wondering what would happen if your shoes melted to the ground.” I said staring off into space again.
“Well you’d be stuck there.”
“Really? I never would have guessed!” I sarcastically rolled my eyes and smiled.
“How would you get back?” Lisa joined me at the table. We pondered this thought for another hour until Frankie and Gerard came down in white lab coats.
Because that’s something people just happen to own. Totally normal, not out of the ordinary at all. *sarcastic eye roll*
“What’s with the two of you?” Lisa asked elbowing me in the ribs.
“Ow, what was that for?” I asked looking up at Lisa.
“These are for cooking.” Frankie said brushing some invisible dust off his shoulder.
“We don’t want to get dirty, and if we do then these will prevent us from becoming too dirty.” Gerard said.
“Gee Gee you do know that it isn’t that messy, cooking.” I said walking over to him. He smiled at me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Well we’re just being safe.” He said pulling away and taking out the turkey. “Alright, so how do we stuff this?”
“I think we put the stuffing down its mouth.” Frankie observed. I looked over at Lisa and we both burst out laughing. I walked upstairs and into my room to get dressed. I had showered when I woke up. I started to throw the clothes that were once neatly in my suit case all around the room Gerard and I were sharing. I finally found a long black to baby blue skirt and a sky blue lacy top, with black fishnets underneath. I slipped it on and then laced up my high-tops. I turned around and took out a red ribbon with the words “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS” neatly printed on them. I tied it around my wrist.
This is in reference to a Fall Out Boy song that I was obsessed with for a majority of the 8th grade. It’s the first song on From Under the Cork Tree, entitled “Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn’t Get Sued”
I thought I was so clever by doing the thing they said in the song. It was sort of like seeing an actor famous for one specific line say that line in something else. There’s a weird jolt of “in the know” excitement. It probably didn’t work, as I’m assuming post people needed this explanation to understand why there would even be a ribbon that says “DO NOT OPEN UNTIL CHRISTMAS” in the first place.
I turned around to see Lisa pulling clothing off her face.
“Hey! This is my shirt!” She proclaims looking at the Nirvana shirt that I had borrowed a few months ago.
“Well it’s mine now.” I said snatching it back.
“You know thanksgiving is supposed to be fall, not winter Ms. Ice Queen.”
“Oh well, Gerard will love me no matter what so mllll.” I stuck my tongue out her and traipsed down the stairs.
Mllll – the noise I think sticking your tongue out and mocking someone makes.
I was trying to be graceful, but it didn’t turn out too well, I never tie my shoes tight enough and…opps there I go down the stairs.
How many of you want to bet that I break something? None of you? Well you’re all…WRONG!!!
I talked to my readers then just like I talk to you now. Trying (and most likely failing) to estimate your intelligence and give you a fun insight into the writing of the story. It’s quirky and cool to break the fourth wall, Deadpool does it all the time.
I tripped on my shoelace and fell down the entire flight of stairs, making odd noises, and spitting out a few swears along the way. I fell to the last step and heard an unbelievably loud crunch somewhere in my left wrist. I could feel a shock of pain as the bones shattered underneath me.
Gerard and Frankie were looking at the turkey that they had put in the oven. My legs were sprawled on the stairs somehow and my arms underneath me. They didn’t even look over. What a nice boyfriend I have. I stood up, or tried; I sort of crawled into a ball and then stood as best I could. I stumbled slightly, and walked back up the stairs. I saw Lisa at the top laughing.
“It wasn’t funny!” I say dejected.
“It so was funny!” She replies, I smirk and walk into the bathroom wrapping my wrist. I wasn’t going back to the hospital. Only bad comes from hospitals.
Do you mean vampires? Because if that’s what you mean than I think it’s safe to say it was probably an isolated incident.
Also, this is wicked unsafe and not cool. If you think you broke something definitely get yourself to a hospital or your doctor to have it checked out, don’t just trust yourself one of your dumbass friends to bandage it up for you.
“FRANKIE!!!!!!!!!” Gerard screams.
The entire last two chapters of this switch tenses faster than I change hair colors.
I sit in the corner and watch them. It was quite comical, Gerard didn’t know how to cook, and neither did Frankie, they didn’t know the basic cooking terms, or where they put the butter. Gerard takes the charred turkey from out of the oven. The smoke billowed up out of the oven and I opened the window and door to let it out.
Once we could see again, I looked at what they had prepared. Nothing. I laughed it was already 10AM and we were eating at four. I knew this would end badly.
“Maria,” Gerard walks over to me and lifts me up sitting in my place and pulling me into his lap.
There is a startling amount of lap sitting in this story. But, as a 13 year old with no relationship experience I suppose seeing my dumb 13 year old peers sitting on each other sparked something.
For the record I am not a lap sitter, I find it sort of weird and uncomfortable and after a while my ass falls asleep and it’s just unpleasant for everyone involved.
“Yes, Gee Gee?” I asked leaning my forehead on his. I stared into the beautiful green, hazel eyes.
Are they green or hazel? or hazel/green? Or green with little flecks of hazel? WHAT COLOR ARE THEY? YOU DON’T TALK ABOUT IT ENOUGH!
“You know how to cook, and you can do it fast, can you help us?” He pouted adorably. I smiled.
“Sorry Gee, but I’m not helping you.”
“Fine.” He stood up pushing me onto the ground and walked over to Frankie. “Alright Frankie, I give up!”
“Me too!” Frankie said sighing and throwing his hands in the air.
“Wanna go out to eat?” Gerard asked. Everyone agreed and we headed to one of the only places open. A Chinese restaurant.
So that was my Thanksgiving. I helped my boyfriend and his best friend not explode my house.
Isn’t it actually Gerard’s house? Don’t you live somewhere in the big bad NYC?
Not that interesting, for some, but it got me through the day. I broke my wrist, and oh, there was something else that happened. But that’s another story, you don’t wanna hear it.
What’s that? You do wanna hear it? Well… you know, what’s the magic word? Gerard? Close. Engagement.
Oh man, I hate to leave it on such a cliffhanger, but next week is the finale. So you’ll finally learn… things? There will be an ending? I can for sure say that the last line of this story is pure gold.