1.11 ja se on viimein täällä ::) nano on nyt siis aloitettu ja sanoja löytyy 663 kappaletta tältä illalta, lisää tulee. ehkä lukijoille positiivisena seikkana on mainittava se, että olin hiukan kärsimätön aloituksen suhteen ja kirjoitin 37720 sanaa ennen marraskuuta. :___D postaan tänne siis näillä näkymin joka päivä uuden luvun. vielä tänään pidän blogin kaikkien luettavissa, mutta jos haluatte lukea tätä vielä silloinkin kun tämä on yksityinen, kommentoikaa GOOGLE-sähköpostiosoitteenne tähän viestiin (kommenttien kera:)). siten voin lähettää teille lukukutsun kun teen blogista vain kutsutuille käyttäjille näkyvän! mutta tässä siis on tämänhetkinen draftini ykkösluvusta - tulee muuttumaan todennäköisesti vielä erittäin runsaasti. nauttikaa!
1.11 and it's finally here! so, nano has begun and i've accomplished a total of 663 words for tonight, more is to come. and something positive to the readers: i was sort of impatient with starting and wrote already 37720 words before november, so i will be posting a new chapter every day. i'll still keep it public for everyone today, but f you are willing to continue reading after i make this blog private, please comment your GOOGLE-email adresses in this message (with comments!::) thus i can send you an invite after making this available only to invited readers. but here's my first draft of ch 1 (which will change a lot.) enjoy!
PART ONE
WIND
Chapter One
I never believed in fate, but I believed in coincidence.
Perhaps some things were meant to be. Some mistakes were meant to be made. We were meant to fall for the wrong people.
Perhaps I even was meant to begin my last year in High School believing my classmates would have grown up during the past two years. And perhaps some people were never meant to change.
Two words: Ashley Cera. The most narrow-minded kid in High School History. If you get a dictionary and look up the word 'homophobia' you'll find Ashley's picture in it.
Well, what does this have to do with me? Let me mention I'm bisexual.
I wasn’t one of those über-lesbians who dressed either very sluttily or decided to look like hicks just to attract other lesbians around them like magnets. Actually, I like guys, too. In my school they just tended to be shitheads. The girls then…
Well, the most shit of a thing in Ashley is that she’s as poisonous as she’s beautiful.
She led me into a hell of a mess I’ve been trying to repair the last couple of months. But to find out how it all began and how I ended up in this forsaken place, we have to take it back.
It was Friday the 13th when I left my very own closet-sized bachelor box the last time. Friday the 13th used also to be my mamma’s birthday. It’s odd to think it had been almost six months since she passed away. It was a white April day. She had found the keys to the medicine cabinet I had used to hide under the rug when I still was there. The same night I received a call from a dead serious guy who claimed my mamma to be gone. It wasn’t the bullshit. The next day I identified her body. They typed her name on a tag and attached it onto her cold ankle. It was too ironic her name was Joy. It didn’t describe her. She had been depressed for several years.
I had her picture taped onto my mirror, amongst the many photographs and postcards I had of the sky. Mamma had dark eyes and hair, she was tall and a little like me, like the darker side of me, my sorrow. She had given the photo as a housewarming gift to me along with a bottle of non-alcoholic German wine and a poem scrawled in letters of infinite curls: “Liebe ist wie ein Vogel: allzu leicht zu einsperren, allzu schwer zu loslassen.” I had moved to my own home when I turned eighteen. It wasn’t much of a home - I had a mini-fridge (which used to be empty all the time) a bed (which was actually a mattress with books of aviation as ‘legs’) and a toilet (I, too, had to answer natures call once in a while.) I managed, reassuring myself I was a child no more. Yet mamma’s sickness made me crawl up in a dark corner and dwell in a sadness which was like a reflection of hers, as if a little child’s on a stormy night. Since mamma had died I hadn’t cleaned up lately: my school books and expired-deadline-essays lied around and I didn’t show any effort to pick them up. I’d clean up after I came back from school – it wasn’t that far away.
But I was too wrong to think I was ready to leave the nest, flutter into the immense world like a flightless bird. The last memory of home was the broken glass I had used to carve the words on the inside of my left wrist. The door slammed shut, the safety chain chiming in accord with my blood. Love is a bird.
“Hil!”
The voice reminded me of the shrill ring of a bell.
I woke up in the middle of English class when Tessie poked me with her elbow. She was this kind of awkward girl with a weird style who I just happened to hang out with, though I was more of the loner type. She usually focused on class, so it was odd to see her dealing me a slip of paper under the desk – as inconspicuously as ever, of course. Our teacher was a Nazi and didn’t really like slips or anything like that.
“It’s for you.”
She handed me the pink post-it-slip which had been folded over carefully. I lifted it to my eye level and could smell a familiar perfume on it. I instantly knew who had sent it. From that second on my day was ruined. The scent filled my nostrils and dazed my senses, seduced them with a thrill for danger.
She handed me the pink post-it-slip which had been folded over carefully. I lifted it to my eye level and could smell a familiar perfume on it. I instantly knew who had sent it. From that second on my day was ruined. The scent filled my nostrils and dazed my senses, seduced them with a thrill for danger.
meet me @ grls bathroom 16pm. TODAY.
Ashley Cera wanted to play games with me.
I was as thankful as hell she sat in the back of the class with her blonde bimbos. From there she couldn’t see me blush.
The day which should’ve lasted for ever passed suddenly like on wings. The hours were glued together instead of being separate like they used to be. There was something to do with grammar and politics and music. But all I could do was to think of Ashley Cera.
She had been drop-dead-gorgeous since she was a kid. Not like I was hideous or anything, but I couldn’t make out with myself (Mein Gott!) Or as if I wanted to make out with Ashley. As if I could make out with her.
She’d had long, thick auburn hair ever since. Mine was shagged short about the same age as she got her first iPod, which was like at the age of five. My natural hair color was a simple dirty blonde with a tint of gold in the sunlight. My short shag highlighted my pixie-like features, and I was often compared to Emma Watson, with the exception that I was majorly taller than her. I was about the same height as the guys in our school – around two heads taller than women averagely were. Ashley was naturally shorter than me, but her high-heels equalized our difference. Every time I heard the clacking of them I wanted to hide: crawl up in my locker and wait until the rest of eternity. In the end of my last lesson I really don’t remember (reason = A.C.) I was almost about to do it, and I would’ve, unless she had spotted me among the crowd the very second I stepped out of the classroom.
I was so damn conspicuous. I truly wish all the other girls in our school would also have a rainbow-colored scarf, striped leggings and a bridge-piercing. Maybe I could hide behind one of them and Ashley would grab one of my copies instead.
She waited at her place until our sonorous stone corridors started to empty. She waited until the teachers left and smiled and nodded at her as they walked past. She was their pet.
Silence stroke and she shot a deadly smile at me. “Since when did you become so brave, bitch?”
She approached me and grabbed my arm hastily. Hell of a bitch.
The clacking of her heels filled the haunted corridors as we entered the girls’ bathroom. Some random chess club nerd passed by us, sneaking soundlessly into the staircase without batting an eyelid though he could absolutely see my face was full of horror. Ashley had bewitched the whole school. If she’d plant a bomb in the principal’s office the teachers would start hooraying and giving her straight A’s instead of kicking her the hell out. The same thing was with guys: if she dared to steal some unwitting person’s boyfriend, they’d just give her a thumbs-up and smile with constraint. She was playing a game and the school was her playfield. Now I would be her pawn.
With an occult smile, Ashley closed the door behind us. I leered around nervously, noticing the toilets were empty. Gosh, the whole school was empty! I had a seriously bad feeling about this. "Ashley, what are you up to? If this-"
My words were cut short as Ashley came close to me and sealed my lips with her manicured index finger. Noticing my abrupt blush she threw back her head and laughed. Her auburn hair flowed graciously behind her back and in the ugly, yellow light her hazel-tinted eyes appeared almost golden: amber like mine.
"Seriously, why are you doing this?" I stuttered, hoping she didn’t notice the tremble in my voice, because I did. I could see she was up to something from her eyes. Her usual, haughty look had changed into something different, something almost intriguing. I noticed I was staring at myself from the wall-length mirror in front of which Ashley and her bimbo bitches spent most of their days talking bullshit. My brown, patterned jacket, striped scarf and stockings didn't really match Ashley's street whore-garments - not to mention the neon pink combat boots I was wearing. What the hell was I doing there?
"...kay, it's starting to get late and awkward. Tell me what the hell do you want and give me a break."
Instead of answering, Ashley let out a wicked laugh and cornered me against one of the graffiti-painted toilet booths, doing something utterly shocking and random. With a swift movement she had pulled off her minty tube top and bared me her breasts. Almost. The lacy nude bra she was wearing didn't actually cover anything. Unwillingly I could notice my breath had quickened. I couldn't set my eyes off them - though I really shouldn't have been looking. I just kept standing there like a moron until I did something very inconsiderate.
I reached out my hand, willing to grab her top and pull it back on and escort her out of the doors, but I guess she didn't interpret it the same way I did. Swiping my hand away as if she had been the victim, not me, she let out a shrill, noisy scream.
"Fucking lesbian bitch! Go to hell!"
When she slapped me with such force I tumbled down and hit my head on the porcelain toilet seat, I could still hear her suddenly worried voice somewhere, out of my conscience.
"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh. I didn't actually mean to! Hilary, wake up..."
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