Post by kyleroxmysox2010 on Dec 10, 2011 22:48:38 GMT -5
I was going to write Jondy, but then I accidentally Rebohn. It was a better plot anyways. Enjoy!
Slut.
She’d heard that word a lot since her, ahem, performance at the South Park Elementary dance. She didn’t know its meaning immediately- this surprised her until she realized it was what people referred to as “slang”- but the harsh tone people spoke it with made her flinch every time she heard it, and she knew it was not good. Even when she retreated to her home schooling once more, the memory of it echoed in her ears constantly, and it was becoming painful. Not only did it hurt knowing they were insulting her- she felt stupid for not knowing what it meant.
Sitting lightly atop the sheets on her bed, she pressed her forehead against the cool steel bars beyond the window, staring blankly down at the ground as the wind chilled her face. If she wasn’t smart, then what was she worth, she pondered. It seemed it was her express purpose, to be intelligent- the one thing that would make her parents proudest. Was everybody’s opinion of her broken now?
She sighed and got out of bed. 8:00 was her bedtime, but ever since that night at the dance she hadn’t been able to sleep so early. Usually she’d read (Machiavelli and Shakespeare were her favorites, naturally) or listen to music (classical music… naturally) until she was able to fall asleep about an hour later, but that night she felt the pressing need to speak to somebody. She wouldn’t dream of waking her parents at this hour- they were asleep even before she was, usually. Her brother had the same bed time as her and fell asleep quickly as well. Besides, she couldn’t ask her family about this, especially so soon after it had happened! She dared to walk silently out in to the hall, and from there her feet guided her downstairs.
She stumbled through the darkness, and made her way to a small point of red light, in a daze. When she reached the glowing point, she realized it was where the telephone sat. She rested her hand on it uncertainly, curling her fingers around it but not lifting it yet. Who would she call? Definitely not Kyle, no… She didn’t know what exactly she done, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never forgive her. But his was the only number she had!
… Or was it?
She reached in to her pocket and took out a small slip of paper. She wasn’t sure when it had been given to her, but after she’d been driven home and sent to her room after the dance she’d discovered it in her pocket. When she first looked at it, she thought it was some kind of seven-digit code and decided to decipher it later, but now she realized with a jolt that it was a phone number. But whose? She didn’t care very much at the moment, knowing that somebody had deliberately given her their number and therefore expected her to call them. It was perfect, really.
She set the paper gently in her palm and lowered her hand to the soft glow of the red light to see the numbers written there. She quickly memorized them, set down the slip of paper, and picked up the phone, pressing it to her ear as she’d seen her parents do many times before and pressing the numbers in delicately, just a little bit uncertain. Her parents usually did not permit her to use the phone to call anybody, so she was unsure if she was doing this quite right. Relief caused her to smile when she heard somebody pick up on the other line.
“Hello?”
“H-Hello… It’s m-me. Rebecca.”
“Well, long time no see! How’ve you been?”
“Th-this may sound strange b-but, um. Wh-who are you?”
“Oh! Right. I just kind of slipped my phone number in to your pocket when you kissed me. The name’s John.”
“O-okay. John. D-do you think I could t-talk to y-you?”
“I gave you my number for a reason,” he pointed out with a welcoming tone.
“Th-th-thank you… It’s j-just, u-u-um… What means ‘slut’?”
“… Oh boy. Well it means… It means someone, usually a girl, who does things outside of a healthy relationship, usually.”
She felt a stab of apprehension. “Th-things?”
“Well yeah, usually sex, kissing, sometimes even holding hands…”
“Oh…” The moment he said kissing, everything seemed to fall in to place.
“You asked because… because people were calling you one, didn’t you?” John asked her, his voice getting softer, filling with sympathy.
“… Y-yes. I f-felt stupid f-for not knowing wh-wh-what it meant, s-so I a-asked you!” She fought to control her rising voice as hysteria began to take over. “N-now I understand! Wh-why K-Kyle… and my b-brother, and m-my parents… Those l-l-looks I was getting…”
“Rebecca, please don’t cry. It’s all right, everything’s okay.”
She sniffed once and felt the piercing sadness suddenly being dashed from her body. Her grip on the phone was tight, and she was holding it against her ear with considerable force despite how flimsy her grip should have been with all of her shaking. Her hitched breaths calmed again at his reassurances, and she sat down on her couch.
“O-okay. I th-think I’m okay n-now.”
“Good. Look, Rebecca… If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re a slut at all. You just didn’t understand because nobody ever explained it all to you. You’re honestly just a victim of circumstance, and I feel bad for everything that’s happened to you. You must be so confused and lonely right now.”
“H-how did you kn-know?”
“Eh, I just know. Anyways, I also think you’re beautiful. And it’s not just because you kissed me, I’m serious. I saw you a couple of times without the… strange… clothes and makeup on, and I thought you were so pretty. Remember the spelling bee? You were so epic in that.”
“R… really…?”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t listen to those stupid people saying you’re a whore and it’s your fault, because it’s not your fault and really you were just dragged in to all of it. You’re a smart, wonderful girl, but you just weren’t ready for all of… that, the outside world, yet. If only it all hadn’t been unleashed on you at once, this wouldn’t have had to happen.”
“J-John…”
“Which leads me to a question I’ve been dying to ask this past…” There was a short pause, and she guessed he was checking the timer on his phone. “… Two minutes. Do you think maybe you would give the outside world another chance? For me?”
“I-I’m not sure… Wh-what if I do e-everything wrong a-again?”
“You won’t,” he reassured her firmly. “I’ll tell you everything. Show you everything. It’s even more wonderful than Kyle made it out to be, if you can go about presenting yourself correctly. I’ll help you.”
“Y-you will?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course! This time things will go right. I promise. In fact, can I meet you tomorrow? You know where Sizzler is, right? Will you meet me there, tomorrow at five?”
“O-okay… I-is this what y-you call a, u-um… a d-date?”
“Yeah. I’d say it is.”
“G-good. I w-will see you t-tomorrow, then.”
“Goodnight!”
“G-goodnight, John.” She hung up, and for the first time in a long time she smiled, resting her head against the armrest of the couch.
A date with a guy. He’d help her be like everybody else. She liked the idea. And this John boy… He was very kind. The things he said to her made her feel so happy. Maybe not everybody’s opinion of her was shattered after all. And for what had been shattered, she hoped to mend. It would only take time.
Slut.
She’d heard that word a lot since her, ahem, performance at the South Park Elementary dance. She didn’t know its meaning immediately- this surprised her until she realized it was what people referred to as “slang”- but the harsh tone people spoke it with made her flinch every time she heard it, and she knew it was not good. Even when she retreated to her home schooling once more, the memory of it echoed in her ears constantly, and it was becoming painful. Not only did it hurt knowing they were insulting her- she felt stupid for not knowing what it meant.
Sitting lightly atop the sheets on her bed, she pressed her forehead against the cool steel bars beyond the window, staring blankly down at the ground as the wind chilled her face. If she wasn’t smart, then what was she worth, she pondered. It seemed it was her express purpose, to be intelligent- the one thing that would make her parents proudest. Was everybody’s opinion of her broken now?
She sighed and got out of bed. 8:00 was her bedtime, but ever since that night at the dance she hadn’t been able to sleep so early. Usually she’d read (Machiavelli and Shakespeare were her favorites, naturally) or listen to music (classical music… naturally) until she was able to fall asleep about an hour later, but that night she felt the pressing need to speak to somebody. She wouldn’t dream of waking her parents at this hour- they were asleep even before she was, usually. Her brother had the same bed time as her and fell asleep quickly as well. Besides, she couldn’t ask her family about this, especially so soon after it had happened! She dared to walk silently out in to the hall, and from there her feet guided her downstairs.
She stumbled through the darkness, and made her way to a small point of red light, in a daze. When she reached the glowing point, she realized it was where the telephone sat. She rested her hand on it uncertainly, curling her fingers around it but not lifting it yet. Who would she call? Definitely not Kyle, no… She didn’t know what exactly she done, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never forgive her. But his was the only number she had!
… Or was it?
She reached in to her pocket and took out a small slip of paper. She wasn’t sure when it had been given to her, but after she’d been driven home and sent to her room after the dance she’d discovered it in her pocket. When she first looked at it, she thought it was some kind of seven-digit code and decided to decipher it later, but now she realized with a jolt that it was a phone number. But whose? She didn’t care very much at the moment, knowing that somebody had deliberately given her their number and therefore expected her to call them. It was perfect, really.
She set the paper gently in her palm and lowered her hand to the soft glow of the red light to see the numbers written there. She quickly memorized them, set down the slip of paper, and picked up the phone, pressing it to her ear as she’d seen her parents do many times before and pressing the numbers in delicately, just a little bit uncertain. Her parents usually did not permit her to use the phone to call anybody, so she was unsure if she was doing this quite right. Relief caused her to smile when she heard somebody pick up on the other line.
“Hello?”
“H-Hello… It’s m-me. Rebecca.”
“Well, long time no see! How’ve you been?”
“Th-this may sound strange b-but, um. Wh-who are you?”
“Oh! Right. I just kind of slipped my phone number in to your pocket when you kissed me. The name’s John.”
“O-okay. John. D-do you think I could t-talk to y-you?”
“I gave you my number for a reason,” he pointed out with a welcoming tone.
“Th-th-thank you… It’s j-just, u-u-um… What means ‘slut’?”
“… Oh boy. Well it means… It means someone, usually a girl, who does things outside of a healthy relationship, usually.”
She felt a stab of apprehension. “Th-things?”
“Well yeah, usually sex, kissing, sometimes even holding hands…”
“Oh…” The moment he said kissing, everything seemed to fall in to place.
“You asked because… because people were calling you one, didn’t you?” John asked her, his voice getting softer, filling with sympathy.
“… Y-yes. I f-felt stupid f-for not knowing wh-wh-what it meant, s-so I a-asked you!” She fought to control her rising voice as hysteria began to take over. “N-now I understand! Wh-why K-Kyle… and my b-brother, and m-my parents… Those l-l-looks I was getting…”
“Rebecca, please don’t cry. It’s all right, everything’s okay.”
She sniffed once and felt the piercing sadness suddenly being dashed from her body. Her grip on the phone was tight, and she was holding it against her ear with considerable force despite how flimsy her grip should have been with all of her shaking. Her hitched breaths calmed again at his reassurances, and she sat down on her couch.
“O-okay. I th-think I’m okay n-now.”
“Good. Look, Rebecca… If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re a slut at all. You just didn’t understand because nobody ever explained it all to you. You’re honestly just a victim of circumstance, and I feel bad for everything that’s happened to you. You must be so confused and lonely right now.”
“H-how did you kn-know?”
“Eh, I just know. Anyways, I also think you’re beautiful. And it’s not just because you kissed me, I’m serious. I saw you a couple of times without the… strange… clothes and makeup on, and I thought you were so pretty. Remember the spelling bee? You were so epic in that.”
“R… really…?”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t listen to those stupid people saying you’re a whore and it’s your fault, because it’s not your fault and really you were just dragged in to all of it. You’re a smart, wonderful girl, but you just weren’t ready for all of… that, the outside world, yet. If only it all hadn’t been unleashed on you at once, this wouldn’t have had to happen.”
“J-John…”
“Which leads me to a question I’ve been dying to ask this past…” There was a short pause, and she guessed he was checking the timer on his phone. “… Two minutes. Do you think maybe you would give the outside world another chance? For me?”
“I-I’m not sure… Wh-what if I do e-everything wrong a-again?”
“You won’t,” he reassured her firmly. “I’ll tell you everything. Show you everything. It’s even more wonderful than Kyle made it out to be, if you can go about presenting yourself correctly. I’ll help you.”
“Y-you will?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course! This time things will go right. I promise. In fact, can I meet you tomorrow? You know where Sizzler is, right? Will you meet me there, tomorrow at five?”
“O-okay… I-is this what y-you call a, u-um… a d-date?”
“Yeah. I’d say it is.”
“G-good. I w-will see you t-tomorrow, then.”
“Goodnight!”
“G-goodnight, John.” She hung up, and for the first time in a long time she smiled, resting her head against the armrest of the couch.
A date with a guy. He’d help her be like everybody else. She liked the idea. And this John boy… He was very kind. The things he said to her made her feel so happy. Maybe not everybody’s opinion of her was shattered after all. And for what had been shattered, she hoped to mend. It would only take time.