Ignorence is bliss? (Open)
Oct 11, 2011 0:27:00 GMT -5
Post by Sophie-Rosaline St.John on Oct 11, 2011 0:27:00 GMT -5
Hey pip-freak.
Nah, I'm kidding, I miss you. How is school? Have you managed to ignore everyone there so far? I'm only kidding, you know that. I miss you never being around, as odd as that is. With you not around for mom to fuss at for being a natural disaster, she's turned her dis-approving eye on me. So yeah, I miss you. Write me back. Prove you still know how to use a pen.
-Julie
P.S.- If you write me a letter about that damned doll, I'm gonna tell mom that you want her to buy you dresses.
Sophie slouched in a chair in the lounge area, the letter laying in her lap. Leave it to Julia-May to know how to be a buzz kill from a million miles away, and to be able to to it so crassly. Her sourly endearing term of pip-squeak had evolved into pip-freak shortly after she had manifested. Amber sat on the table next to her chair, her head having somehow shifted to the side, as if to say, Why so glum, darling? A deep sigh from Sophie blew the letter off her lap and onto the ground where it was promptly ignored. Pulling herself up, she drew her legs and bare feet up and leaned her forehead against her knees, her fingers lacing themselves between her toes. She didn't know what to do about the situation, and her usual decision of ignoring the problem until it went away would merely lead to shipments of frilly, stupid dresses from her overly excited mother.
She tried to listen to the sounds around her and ignore the pulsing frustration bubbling up in her gut. Someone had managed to keep the television on one station for a whole show, and that person had chosen some documentary, it sounded like something about animals. Boys were jostling each other somewhere to her forward lefterly direction, probably waiting for the girls to finish their round of pool. For the most part, it was just a pollution of voices and noise and jostling. She felt claustrophobic, like the bodies were crushing around her, and she couldn't figure out why. Why couldn't her sister just leave her alone? She squeezed her fingers together, cutting off the circulation to her toes until it hurt, and then letting go.
Picking up her head, she rested with just her eyes peeking up above her jeans and just below the fringe of bangs that had escaped the single plait of hair. She stared a hole in the center pocket of the pool table, thinking herself in circles about how to respond to her sister's letter. Ignore it and gift the dresses away to random girls in the dorms? Write her back and invite more jabs at her in-human-ness? She watched as the girls finished their game and three of the boys broke off from the group near by to start up a game. She tried to pay attention and possibly learn the rules, but her sister's letter sat indigently on the floor, as if paper could be indigent.
Nah, I'm kidding, I miss you. How is school? Have you managed to ignore everyone there so far? I'm only kidding, you know that. I miss you never being around, as odd as that is. With you not around for mom to fuss at for being a natural disaster, she's turned her dis-approving eye on me. So yeah, I miss you. Write me back. Prove you still know how to use a pen.
-Julie
P.S.- If you write me a letter about that damned doll, I'm gonna tell mom that you want her to buy you dresses.
Sophie slouched in a chair in the lounge area, the letter laying in her lap. Leave it to Julia-May to know how to be a buzz kill from a million miles away, and to be able to to it so crassly. Her sourly endearing term of pip-squeak had evolved into pip-freak shortly after she had manifested. Amber sat on the table next to her chair, her head having somehow shifted to the side, as if to say, Why so glum, darling? A deep sigh from Sophie blew the letter off her lap and onto the ground where it was promptly ignored. Pulling herself up, she drew her legs and bare feet up and leaned her forehead against her knees, her fingers lacing themselves between her toes. She didn't know what to do about the situation, and her usual decision of ignoring the problem until it went away would merely lead to shipments of frilly, stupid dresses from her overly excited mother.
She tried to listen to the sounds around her and ignore the pulsing frustration bubbling up in her gut. Someone had managed to keep the television on one station for a whole show, and that person had chosen some documentary, it sounded like something about animals. Boys were jostling each other somewhere to her forward lefterly direction, probably waiting for the girls to finish their round of pool. For the most part, it was just a pollution of voices and noise and jostling. She felt claustrophobic, like the bodies were crushing around her, and she couldn't figure out why. Why couldn't her sister just leave her alone? She squeezed her fingers together, cutting off the circulation to her toes until it hurt, and then letting go.
Picking up her head, she rested with just her eyes peeking up above her jeans and just below the fringe of bangs that had escaped the single plait of hair. She stared a hole in the center pocket of the pool table, thinking herself in circles about how to respond to her sister's letter. Ignore it and gift the dresses away to random girls in the dorms? Write her back and invite more jabs at her in-human-ness? She watched as the girls finished their game and three of the boys broke off from the group near by to start up a game. She tried to pay attention and possibly learn the rules, but her sister's letter sat indigently on the floor, as if paper could be indigent.
