from the OTHER archives: Socks, Part 1

Hello, MayVaneDay readers, and welcome to a new segment on this blog! It’ll most likely be updated irregularly, as I’m in the first stages of writing The White Line Fever and in the last week of summer vacation.

Recently, I’ve been trying to clean out old and unused data from as many of my accounts as possible in an attempt to organize everything before the school year really gets hectic and all my documents get lost under a deluge of essays and presentations for topics I will probably forget all about within a day of finishing the dang thing. No, this does not mean that I will be deleting old posts, but hiatus announcements and otherwise time-sensitive data might get swept up into the digital trash bin.

While looking through documents that hadn’t been edited in over a year, I stumbled across a… treasure. At least, if a trilogy you wrote in seventh grade and now shudder at years later could be considered a treasure. The first book, Socks, was divided up into four parts, the first two of which had no chapters and were just one short story with barely any formatting. So why not some cringe to ring in the new school year?

Laura was sleeping. And snoring, too, or else Rave wouldn’t be awake. Dolls didn’t sleep, but they could sure pretend. But it’s kind of hard to pretend when your owner is snoring super loud, at least to a doll’s ears.

I believe this was the phase of my life where I was having a severe identity crisis and debating whether or not to pack up my dollhouse. Twelve-year-old me didn’t have anything more important to worry about since this was before the ruckus of eighth grade and all the crap that came with it. Also, that last sentence… isn’t there a better way you could have worded it?

Rave pulled herself out of her bed and rubbed her forehead, clearing off some of the crayon smudges from the previous day. Laura played hard and had decided to color all over Rave’s plastic body, which had gotten Laura’s mom whipped up into a fury. Then Rave had been subjected to a scrubbing in the kitchen sink to get all of the crayon marks off. Only about half of the marks had come off so far, but more flaked off every day.

Perhaps there was a better word that G (as we’ll call the person I was back then) could have used instead of “clearing”- maybe “scratching” or “scraping” would have worked better. And the coloring all over? I’m getting whiffs of the doll book that I was obsessed with in that particular moment. If you wanted to write a fanfiction, G, then go ahead. Nobody’s stopping you.

In addition, “more flaked off every day” would imply that the coloring happened quite a few days ago, but it was only the previous day… G, you should work more on your timing.

Laura didn’t know that her doll was alive, and neither did her mother. Rave had to keep that a secret, at least for now.

Oh goody, the secret life of dolls. Yet another thing you ripped off from the doll book.

It was morning, and Laura was all over the place getting ready for school.
Brush your teeth!
Put your clothes on!
Get your backpack!
No, the other backpack!
Rave dove into the traffic cone that she unofficially lived in as the chaos whose name was Laura dashed around the house getting ready for the school.

What, you have nothing better to live in other than a traffic cone? I mean… I’m happy for the deviation, but why a traffic cone? If Laura can have a doll which she obviously gives enough of a crap about to vandalize, then there should be at least a crappy “house” made of an old cardboard cereal box.

Plastic chairs were thrown here and there as Laura dashed around the mess that she called her room. At last, the door slammed shut, and Rave relaxed into the cone as she acknowledged that in six hours, the chaos would be home again with a different intent- the dreaded homework.
Homework. Laura’s excuse to not play with Rave. The very thought filled her with dread. Not being played with- that was a toy’s worst nightmare. Of course, Rave was the only living doll she knew. The rest of the toys that Laura owned were as lifeless as the food she ate.

Laura ate, excuse me. Dolls didn’t eat.
Rave sunk into a troubled sleep. Something bad was going to happen today.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep my gif usage low. It’s just been a long day.

“LAURA! WHERE ARE YOU?” her mom shouted. It woke up Rave almost instantaneously as Laura’s mom crashed into the room and started tearing it up, trying to find Laura.
“LAURA, QUIT HIDING!” her mom was shouting at the top of her lungs.

I have the feeling that this is going to be a very, very long series- both mentally and in terms of word count. And also time, time that I could be spending working on TWLF. Oh, G.. why did you have to write this?

I guess everyone has to start at the bottom.

That night, Rave hallucinated that a fairy made of light told her that if she was ever going to save Laura, she was only allowed to tell about it using poems. We must respect that hallucination or else it will come for us.
So how about some haikus?

And just like that, G simultaneously did three things: 1) give up any effort on attempting to write prose, 2) acknowledge that the story was boring enough not to hold anybody’s attention span for long, and 3) have mercy on all why would read it. I’ve destroyed this ePUB files on all my devices, but it still floats out there, out of my control forever…

Over the hill and / over the river, Rave was / looking for Laura.
Little did she know / Laura had been kidnapped by / lots of red-eyed squirrels.
The red-eyed squirrels were / controlled by the Sock Puppets. / They were evil. Blah.

For the purposes of saving screen space, I’ve condensed the shittily written haiku into lines. And also, “blah”? Really, G? You couldn’t find a better word to take up that last syllable?

At last, one day she / came to the Socks’ suspicious / lair. There was Laura.
A Sock asked Rave, “Do / you want this child back? Well? / Do you?” Rave was mute.

“I dunno,” Rave responded, shrugging her shoulders. “I mean, I would like to have someone play with me, but you see- I’m not her legal guardian. I frankly don’t give a crap because Animal Control is on their way here regardless.” She turned to one of the Socks, a neon-green one. “Dammit, Frank, you were always one to get a kick out being mind-controlled. Pathetic Mimikkyu wannabe.”

“ANSWER ME!” the Sock / screamed, and more Socks came out of / the cave. They were now
quickly shuffling / towards Rave, and soon they were / engulfing her. Blank.
Rave soon woke up in / a dark damp room. Laura was / nowhere to be seen.

Gotta love both the random “blank” and the awkward line break.

The fairy made of / light appeared again to Rave. / “I can help you.” The

I just love doing LSD in dark caves! And also more awkward line breaks! Hooray!

next thing she said was, / “You must make a choice. Do you / want to save Laura,
or do you want to / become a human? Pick one / right now, or – UH- else!”

You know you’re on LSD when the doll you’re forced to read about is named Rave. Wait… did G think of that already?

“Um, um, um,” was all / Rave could say. “I guess I want / to save Laura, then.”

Good choice. Bad choices don’t result in shitty trilogies and embarrassment for the rest of your life.

Rave knew nothing but / darkness for the next couple / of days. But Laura
was now safe at home. / And that is the end of my / very short story.

And just like that, it’s over! Tune in next time for an angsting human/dragon hybrid who drinks to forget that she’s the result of a woman and a dragon having a little too much fun! (No, I don’t know what was going through my head either…)

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