from the OTHER archives: Socks, Part 3, Chapters 1-2

Here we go, people. Here’s the real beginning of the story, of the nightmare that was seventh grade and all the identity crises that poor G suffered. Although she was quite a brat in that time, so maybe I shouldn’t sympathize with her. Oh well.

Yawn. It’s hard being me, especially at 4:30 in the morning.
‘What are you doing up so early?’ you might ask. And I say, ‘Flying’. You know, with wings. What else would you fly with?

Unfortunately, G had not yet learned that you should not open a book with the declaration that the main character is “different from everybody else” and that it’s “so hard” to be them. It just makes everyone look pretentious. Yes, we get it, you’re special- but so is everybody else on this damned planet.

And then you say, ‘What!? You fly? Are you a cheap imitation knockoff of-’
And I cut you off, because I was that dream before Emma read that book.

We get it, G, you think that writing fanfiction is beneath you. And, at that point in your life, the word “stormy” only referred to a weather condition. It’s okay. Denial is the first step to acceptance.

You see, I’ve had a rough life so far. It isn’t easy being the only girl on your block who has fairy wings. And they don’t go buzz buzz, by the way.

W̵̪͎̘H̺̲̯͈̮̟̟Ò̝ ͡Ỵ̬͉O̧͔̦Ú̪̠̺̥͉̭ ̷̫ͅG̹̮̭O̧̖N̯̪͈̩ͅN̸͇A͉͈͍͘ ͖͜C̙A̝̖͚̼̗̺͝ĻL̹̞̝̥͕̹?̸̰̠̲͇͔͇̝  M̶̨̡̩̻͖͖͔ͅA̜̤̩̗͜R̭͎̩̪͎̳̖̱̕Y̢̪ͅ ͈͝S̀͏̝͓͔̯͙̙U̟͖͔͟͞E̛̹̤̟̰̻̯͢ ̙̱̀͠͠B҉͓͔͉͚U̯̮̻̲͠͞S͓̞̦̹̩̳͠T̗̞͈̯̗͕̮̗̀E̺͈̮̮̬̯Ṟ̛͍̞̫͟S͚̫͉͎͉̠͝ͅ

 See? One reason I’m not a copycat. The wings are different. And they’re not white and feathered, you bookworms- they are pink and purple and they feel like silk. They were supposed to be mint green, I’m told. But, oh well, everyone makes mistakes, including the people who want to kill me, and/or capture me.

I have a waterbottle here on my desk, and as far as I know, the house is empty. I could fill this up with cheap wine and die in a few hours from alcohol poisoning. Then I wouldn’t have to go any farther in this book.

Are you one of those people? If so, stop reading and slap yourself in the face. Repeat. Good.
I think I can trust you now, because if I couldn’t, then this entire page would be blank, because I wouldn’t tell you anything at all, now, would I?

G? G, you’re not funny. I realize that you’re so emotionally repressed that you overcompensate with trying to make people laugh. I understand that you want validation. But you’re simply not funny.

Aren’t I annoying? I’m quite annoying to most people, especially those who are going through this book the first 3 times.

You’re suicidal thoughts-inducing. You are, by far, one of the worst characters that I have ever created, aside form the whiny transgender token character and that one black kid with vitiligo specifically written to fall in love with my self-insert.

Alex-Kyle, if you’re out there living a fictional life as a sap in Soona Bris, you’re still an asshole. And I’m attracted to girls. Go find someone else to feed your victim complex.

Trust me, you will warm up to me by then. I guarantee it.

And on that note, Chapter 1 is over. Only about fifty to go, and that’s in Part 3 alone.

 There’s nothing in the world like flying in the early morning.

Now that I think of it, I don’t know your name, Mary Sue. How am I supposed to address you directly when I hire a private assassin? Surely, if you were so important, you would have told us already…

Flying lessons today, and hopefully just today.
What? I prefer to fly by myself. You’re kind of forced to when you’re being chased by department store butchers. Oh, oops… I wasn’t supposed to share that with you yet.

I have the vague feeling that this was based off a lucid dream I had after one of my many bouts of all-nighters fueled by religious paranoia at the time. I also have the feeling that this will be forgotten and not touched upon again for the entirety of the book series.

Anyway, planes are good for learning to fly. Learn from the planes, or go skydiving, which isn’t as good, but still gives you a rush of freedom. But if you do, pack a parachute. You’ll need it, because I’m guessing you don’t have wings.

This is going to be a long ride… Heh, get it, because it’s a… you know what, never mind. My pride has already been tarnished enough today.

I walked to the cherry orchard, where the plane was kept. Well, ok, maybe it was more of a jetpack with wings.

Then why didn’t you just say that? Why the extra sentence? We could have gotten out of here faster hadn’t it been for that!

The guy who owned it let me borrow it, because, hey, it was Emma’s Dreamland. I could do anything I wanted, good or bad. But, I mostly only did good stuff, because I try to be a good person, at least most of the time.

“Kellin! Add that to my case folder of why this character is a Mary Sue. She admitted that the laws of the universe allow her to do whatever she wants!”

“The case folder is bursting at the seams, Vane…”

“Dang it, Kellin! Do you want that breast binder or not?”

“We’re financially strained at the moment, Vane…”

“Make it fit as best you can. Or start a new case folder. We’re in for the long run.”

Then went by about 2 minutes of me flying over trees. Sadly, it required a running start. But it was still fun. A lot of fun.
Then, after that, we had some apple cider and such. Good stuff. I met a girl named Tomorrow. She had short, black hair and glasses, and she seemed to take a lot of interest in me, although I couldn’t figure out if it was the good kind or the bad kind.

>tfw you accidentally write a gay character but don’t want to admit it

Tomorrow is a weird name. It makes me feel like tomorrow she’s going to kill me.
Nice name, I thought, and smirked. (That’s sarcasm for you people reading this. What? In addition to being annoying, I’m quite sarcastic sometimes.)

Hold up, I’m getting a phone call from G… she says that the name Tomorrow was supposed to be symbolic, but I’m not allowed to say why though.

“Hey, Algeria,” Tomorrow said, “Did you know that the roof is a hologram?” It was almost like she knew what was going to happen-I looked up, and when I did, the roof suddenly blurred, revealing a bunch of FREAKS busting through the roof! As if!

I hope that they get you, Algeria. You’re discriminating from those poor deformed people. I’m going to tell your mother about this.

All of them had reddish glinting eyes, and one had a bazooka that was pointed at me. I did a quick somersault to roll under a chair while I thought about it quickly. You see, it was supposed to shoot a net to trap me, but they underestimated just how fast I can fly away. You’ll probably see that again later.

That’s a lot of empty details you left behind in that scene, Algeria. They’ll probably catch up with you later.

They came down from their midair standstill when they realized that it was going to be more of a fight than just a simple grab-the-girl-and-go stunt. Tomorrow was laughing like crazy at my shock of the turn of events.

Where’s the popcorn?

That forced me to come out from underneath the chair. “Who’s ready for some damage?” I called out to them, teasing them with a smirk on my face.
“COME OR WE WILL DESTROY YOU!” they loudly droned. Apparently they had no emotions. How sad. So sad. (Sarcasm…)

Algeria, you broke my popcorn machine with all your bravado. I demand restitution! Where’s my justice?

“Don’t be such scaredy-cats! If you want me, come and get me!” and I zipped out of there, and my day would have been ok, sort of, if they hadn’t followed me.
What? I had thought that they were too stupid to follow me!

What did you think was going to happen? You gave them an open invitation to follow you! How have you been alive so long?

Oh, wait, it’s because you can bend the laws of the universe to your will. But then why are they following you? You can just wish them out of existence!

I took off and started flying through the crisp, sweet air, finally at ease, and I relaxed a bit. Nothing to fear here, right in the open air, except when they shot a noiseless tranquilizer dart at my neck, and right before I blacked out, I was falling like a stone.

I’m going to create a charity called The Society for Comma Abuse. Please donate at one of the twenty links above. Please… I’m begging you…

It’ll get better in the following chapters. I guarantee it. 😉


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s