#he's such a good dad man when i think about him and rebecca i weep and then I'm happy it's good now atleast

[firefistjaigio]

I've been thinking about Kyros being one of the best dads in one piece tbh

[hacash]

ted lasso thoughts 2x08

hey, remember when everyone was worried that Ted Lasso Season 2 had too much fluff and not enough conflict? huh? everyone remember that?

everyone remember when we watched this because it was light and hopeful enough to get us through lockdown?

remember last episode when we thought all the dark forest would be about nate’s downward spiral and thought nothing else heavy could happen?

hell, remember when we first saw jamie tartt and thought there was no way we could sympathise with him as a character?

I’m not going to lie, the dark forest is dark and it is scary, but even in the midst of the trees there’s flickers of light. jamie’s entire storyline in this ep was building scene by scene - we could feel the tension growing, from that first screenshot of his phone saying “Dad” (not Dad, “Dad”, I mean fuck this show) right up to the moment when Tartt Senior bursts into the changing room. If Phil Dunster doesn’t get an Emmy nomination next year he will have been absolutely robbed - and then to put the icing on the cake, having Roy be the one to step up and hold him through the pain. I mean, damn.

A little underrated scene was Jamie and Higgins chatting: there’s no way in hell Jamie would have taken the time to so much as pass Higgins a word one season ago, let alone ask if he wanted the door to his closet-office closed. I particularly appreciated Higgins’ chat about his own father - it wasn’t straight-up ‘screw your dad if he’s a bad dad’, but neither was it a ‘you should always be there for your family no matter what’ message that children of abusive parents often get from well-meaning but ignorant bystanders, once again showing that Higgins picks up on more than not. Personally I’m waiting for Jamie to be invited around to the Higginses for Sunday lunch.

The shock on the entire Richmond team’s face through that scene. Oh man.

I never thought they’d have the audacity to kill off Sharon before the credits but whoa that still had me yelling at my screen while the theme song was still playing. I love how we’re seeing more of her as a character, not just a therapist. (And hearing her voicemails to Ted were something else.)

Ted. Oh Ted. I think a lot of us knew it was coming but still, that line hit more heavily than anything else in the episode. The bluntness of it coming out of nowhere - the fact that Ted is unsure whether or not that was what gave him his issues - the fact that we’re still scratching the surface... *weeps in football*

The Diamond Dogs exchanging vulnerabilities was such a precious moment. I’ve seen some say that they thought Nate’s expression was one of disgust at Ted’s revelation, and some that they thought it was relief at not being the only one struggling with mental health issues. For myself, I read it as shock - Nate’s always seen Ted on a pedestal, and the idea that your idol can suffer from the same weaknesses as you...well, that’s always a heavy moment. (Whatever it was, I’m sure it’ll come back to bite us in time.)

SAM ‘N REBECCA. It’s a testament to the two actors that even though everything in me feels iffy and odd and that this ain’t a good thing, their chemistry and acting is so good that you end up thinking ‘oh man, I wish this was workable for them’. Rebecca knows it’s not going to work, but comes up against Sam’s irrepressible youthful charm and hope, and after everything she’s been through...suddenly it’s so easy to understand why she’s sailing so close to the wind. But it’s almost definite that this ain’t gonna work out, and all we can do is hope like hell it ends as well as possible.

Seriously, look me in eye and tell me that if Toheeb Jimoh came up to you looking like he did all through that episode and asked to have dinner that you’d say no. I dare you.

Is Roy’s sister the doctor from the ER???? I really hope she is.

Roy taking on board everything he learned about being a good role model for Phoebe and comforting Jamie is just...just... *flails*

There wasn’t much to laugh at in this episode but my boy Colin never lets me down. That dumbbell scene had me cackling. Seriously, someone protect him. (I particularly loved the fact that we have Overprotective Boyfriend Isaac lambasting him for letting Colin nearly choke to death and then thirty seconds later does the exact same thing.)

THE HAIRCUTTING SCENE. There are no words other than cinematic masterpiece. I remember thinking at the beginning of this season that I wanted more for Isaac to do and to see him coming into his own as Captain and holy hell did I get my wish. Watching all the boys hoot and applaud and gush over Isaac’s effortless mastery of the clippers was the purest form of ‘boys will be boys’ I have ever seen or will ever see. (Until the next Richmond Himbos scene, ofc.)

And as a nice touch, watching Will take part and be included (holding the clippers’ tray ‘like a squire to a knight’) was lovely, particularly given the last episode.

The football match itself - it says a lot that this wasn’t even the focus, only as a tool to make our hearts break even more for Richmond FC - was hard to watch, particularly because it really felt like we were meant to feel like they just weren’t playing well? and I don’t quite understand why - I’ve already written about how Nate kinda had a point in this episode, that Roy and Ted dashing off for emergencies without telling anyone what they were is weird under any circumstance (let alone before such an important match) and possibly is a sign that while the team themselves are stronger than ever, everything is not quite well with the coaches of Richmond.

(seriously: ‘Sharon’s in the hospital and I’m going to make sure she’s ok’ ‘My niece has an emergency at school.’ Would that have been so hard? From a show that prioritises communication?)

And I really didn’t understand that little moment of Beard letting Nate - a junior coach, before a really important match - lead training. That, coupled with Beard being focused on as struggling to take the result, really intrigues me. It could be nothing, but so often this show drops little nuggets leading up to a big reveal, and the fact that the next episode looks to be Beard centric has me very interested, and more than a little anxious. As I am leading up to every episode of Ted Lasso these days, I suppose.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker - Through the eyes of Uncle Ben

“Is he adjusting okay?” Rebecca asks, one of the moms who frequents this park almost as often as Ben does.

“I think so,” Ben murmurs, a small smile on his face. It’s been about a year, and he never really knew Richard and Mary, but May doesn’t tear up when she talks about them anymore, though a long look of sadness pinches her cheeks. Peter doesn’t have nightmares anymore either. They haven’t healed, but they’re doing okay. He turns out to look at the playground where the little boy is an impassioned argument over who gets to keep the ladybug he’s found.

Peter’s only four, but he’s perfect. He’s strong and brave and Ben knows he’s the best of Richard and Mary, and some nights, the early ones especially, that was the only thing that really kept May going. It hurts him to know that she hurts, and sometimes Ben can’t do anything- and his hands shake with how badly he wants to comfort her, but he can’t make her smile. And then Peter ambles into the room with chocolate smeared all over his mouth and a tub of play-dough he can’t open, and then May will smile. And she’ll lift the little boy into her arms and just breathe him in, and Ben can breathe a little easier too.

He loved Peter before Peter was theirs. (Is it okay to say he’s theirs? At first it seemed like he could never be anything but Richard and Mary’s, but as the months go by…it hurts in a good way, May feels it too, Peter is their son). He’s a precious little boy, and he looks so much like May that most people don’t question it.

Rebecca though, she knows.

“He looks really very happy,” she says, squeezing Ben’s shoulder and then heading off to find her own daughter.

Ben hums around a smile, and sips his coffee, watching as Peter and his friend appear to decide to free the ladybug instead.

He ends up a little caught in his newspaper. The crime rate in this city is clawing its way back up into a zone that makes his skin prickle with protective fear over his wife and-and- son? nephew? Son. And when a little voice clears its throat, Ben is yanked out of a reverie of fine print and faced with a stern looking six year old boy.

It’s Howard’s boy, Ben thinks. He reaches for a name...Anthony. Tony. Howard isn’t the most pleasant man, but Maria is nice. Anthony goes to the private pre-school around the corner, the one that May hopes Peter can win a scholarship for someday, given his genius genetics. Ben’s not sure quite how Tony and Peter became such fast friends, not because Peter isn’t friendly. He is. A little too friendly, really. Happy to follow complete strangers if they have a dog or a pretty dress.

Ben’s had to reiterate the concept of ‘stranger danger’ but he’s not sure Peter had really taken it in.

Tony and Peter go to the same junior-playgroup on Tuesdays. Maybe that’s how they’re friends.

Ben looks around and spots Maria on the other side of the playground, muttering angrily into the phone. Ben holds back his sigh. He’s not surprised. Howard doesn’t seem to approve of his son hanging with ‘the riffraff’. God, Ben hates the man.

Anthony though, is a sweet boy. Clever and blind to the differences in people that Howard is so sensitive to.

“Mr Parker!” The boy exclaims, and Ben raises his eyebrows a little, setting down his newspaper in a show of attention. “I have an ‘nnouncement.”

“Ah, of course,” Ben nods.

The boy, decked out in clothing almost obscenely expensive, is holding Peter’s muddy hand. The four year old is beaming up at the sky. Tony clears his throat, and Ben bites back his amused grin. He’s like an adorable mini-Howard. Wait, no. He’s trying to be like Howard. But Tony is better than Howard. Ben hopes it stays that way. “I’m askin’ for your permission to marry Petey.”

“Yay!” Peter exclaims, bouncing up and down on the spot.

Ben has to cover the lower half of his face behind his fingers so he doesn’t laugh in front of the very serious proposal. “I see.” He manages graciously, “and why should I say yes?”

Tony nods thoughtfully, like he expected this line of questioning. “Um,” he begins, rubbing his little fist against his eye, “cuz we love each other, and um, we both like turtles the best.”

“The bestest,” Peter reiterates safely, before throwing his arms around the taller boy and hugging him tight. “Tony is my bestest friend!”

Tony seems to glow with pride.

“Well, that settles it,” Ben decrees, using his newspaper to pat them both on the head. “You have my permission to be married.”

“Yay!” Peter squeals again, and Tony goes all soft and privately pleased, as Peter picks up clumps of grass and sprinkles it over them like confetti.

As Ben gets out of his car and heads into the school, he thinks about things.

He thinks about the fact that his fourteen year old boy, his boy, is kind hearted and good. Peter is a good person, deep in his bones, Ben knows that. And yet this is third time this week he’s being called in for some kind of disruption.

Maybe this private school scholarship wasn’t the best thing for him. But May had been so insistent. Ben doesn’t see what’s wrong with the other schools...

Peter’s been different the past two weeks. Off. He’d come down with a bad flu, and then just…he’d changed.

When he gets in, Peter is sitting in one of the chairs outside the headteacher’s office, his head hanging down and radiating shame.

Ben softens at the sight. He sighs, and sits beside him. “What happened?” He asks, surreptitiously looking for signs that Peter might be hurt or bruised. There’s been lots of that in the past. It had made Ben so angry, but then it had stopped, and he’d heard that Tony Stark had been suspended for three weeks for breaking the noses of four boys.

Ben had given Tony an extra serving of dessert the next time the boy was over.

“It’s so stupid,” Peter hiccups, wiping his face with his sleeve and shaking his head, “I didn’t mean to- they were just-“

“Mr Parker?” The headteacher says, opening the door, and beckons the two of them inside.

Ben’s anger swiftly returns. He doesn’t like bullies. He won’t tolerate it, and even though it’s hard to see his Peter as a bully, the facts don’t lie. Peter had humiliated that jock in front of everyone, and shattered school property and punched him so hard that he’d almost fractured his cheek.

Ben’s not totally sure about that last one, even though the head teacher insists that’s what happened. Peter doesn’t know how to punch. He doesn’t have any bruising on his knuckles either.

When they get out of the office, he looks down at his boy and he shakes his head as Peter curls in on himself in disappointment. “Peter…what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Uncle Ben,” Peter chokes out, eyes sparkling with tears, “I didn’t mean to-“

“This is the third time this week, Peter! What’s happening? Your Aunt is sick with worry-“

“It was an accident,” comes another voice, more like a snarl, and Ben turns to see Tony. The sixteen year old is almost as tall as him, and he hooks Peter by his backpack straps into a tight hug. Peter sobs into his shirt and Ben feels lost in a way he hasn’t felt since May lost her sister and he couldn’t do anything.

“Tony,” Ben shakes his head, grasping, “what’s happening? What’s happened to my boy?”

Tony cups the back of Peter’s head and gives Ben a glance so mature Ben almost can’t believe it. “He’s going through something right now, Mr Parker,” Tony whispers, voice hard but even, “we’re working through it, and when he’s ready, he’ll tell you, but for now…He’s your kid. You know him. Cut him some fucking slack.”

Ben doesn’t take parenting advice from sixteen year olds, but Tony essentially raises himself, and Peter is clinging to him for dear life and-

Ben likes Tony. And he just wants Peter to be happy.

So he does.

(It’s the right thing to do)

Age comes before he can do everything he wants to do. Celebrate his sixtieth wedding anniversary with May. Spoil a grandchild. Walk Peter down the aisle.

As his breath becomes more laboured, and his vision becomes more blurry, he thinks he very nearly did that last one.

He feels selfish, ruining Peter’s big day- only a week away, by drifting towards the light. Will the boys postpone it? He hopes they won’t. It’s his time. There are times for things. Like Peter getting bitten by a radioactive Spider when he was 14 years old. That happened for a reason, though Ben can still remember through fits of laughter the way that he and May had sat across from Tony and Peter at the kitchen table and wondered if they were on drugs. Like the time Peter had said that he and Tony were more than friends, and Ben had nearly choked on his coffee but May had rolled her eyes and asked how he hadn’t realised already.

There are times for things.

For the first time ever, Peter calls him dad. Croaked out and heartbroken.

Ben’s got the best medical care money can pay for, and he doesn’t need to ask to know that Tony, the ever-present pillar of stability in the corner, 24 and already a force to be reckoned with, is the reason why.

May never leaves his side.

Ben smiles at that, and thanks the lord that he’ll be wearing his wedding ring for eternity.

“When I wake up,” he says to her, as she weeps, “I’m going to see you.”

From a place of bliss, somewhere above and beyond, he watches the wedding.

It was postponed by a year, but maybe it’s better this way. May gets to walk Peter down the aisle, and Tony is crying, and so is Peter, but they’re good tears.

“Come on,” Richard says, a smile in his voice, ageless and happy, “I don’t think we’ll want to watch the honeymoon.”

Ben laughs at that, and takes Mary’s hand.

Somewhere, down there, Peter throws a clump of grass in the air as confetti and smiles, and then he turns to the sky and whispers words of gratitude to his lost parents.

All three of them. 

[recentanimenews]

Why Monkey D. Garp Is The Best Anime Grandpa

  In the One Piece anime, we're entering the Reverie Arc. Now, for those of you that don't keep up with One Piece, I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what you're doing with your time, but I only hope that it makes you happy. But if you don't stay up to date with it, the Reverie occurs every four years, when the various rulers of the nations that exist under the World Government come together to, I don't know, decide stuff. And since the Straw Hat Crew have been island hopping like Instagram celebrities with trust funds for the past few years, they've met a lot of these rulers.

  That means that we're gonna get to see Vivi, Rebecca, Shirahoshi, Cobra, Dalton and, sigh, Wapol, among many others. But also, and this is the main reason that I'm excited for it, we're gonna get to see Garp, Luffy's Grandpa, again. We haven't seen him in a while, and that's a shame, because Monkey D. Garp, as far as I'm concerned, is Anime's Best Grandfather. Someone should buy him a coffee cup that says that.

    "But Daniel," you say, probably. "How did you get to this conclusion? What scientific method did you use?" Well, I looked at three key areas. And I'll explain them to you now, mainly because it would be weird if I didn't and was just like "Here's my opinion! Now watch Mob Psycho or something. Later!" 

  HOW DOES GARP STAND APART FROM OTHER ANIME GRANDPAS?

  First of all, he stands apart because look at him. If you need to find him in a crowd, just look for the dude with shoulders as wide as most condos. He looks like a man that's done nothing but compete in arm wrestling tournaments for eighty years. But aside from that, Garp doesn't fall into many old man tropes. For example, he's not a pervy senior. His nose doesn't gush buckets of blood when he sees a pretty girl. In fact, as you'll see in the upcoming arc, he accompanies Shirahoshi and Neptune up from Fishman Island just to make their journey more comfortable.  Aww. Good Guy Garp.

  And he also doesn't try to shy away from a battle because he's old, or make jokes about just how decrepit he is in order to get you to drop your guard. Garp is perfectly capable of handling himself in a fight, which brings me to my next point:

  WE STILL DON'T KNOW HOW STRONG GARP IS

  Sure, we hear stories about his time in Gol D. Roger and Whitebeard's era. And yes, he can punch Whitebeard's first division commander Marco out of the sky. And he can also throw cannonballs, which must make him an absolute menace during the Marines' annual Dodgeball Tournament And Picnic. But even still, the question remains: Just how powerful is this dude?

  Is he stronger than Luffy? Or how about Rayleigh? We assume that he's not as powerful as Big Mom or Kaido, but again, we're just not sure. He's a Vice Admiral, but he could've easily moved up a few ranks if he wanted to. Heck, when Akainu punched a hole through Ace, Sengoku had to hold Garp back from killing the magma jerk. Could Garp have killed Akainu? We don't know! But probably, as he certainly seemed confident about being able to rip his head off. 

  That kind of thing is fascinating. One Piece has been going for about twenty years, and it isn't like Garp is just a non-speaking cameo role. The dude's shown up a few times, but we're still endlessly debating who can out-brawl him.

  WHERE DO HIS LOYALTIES LIE?

  It's Marineford. A war is going on, and you're on the edge of your seat because Luffy is running up to the platform to save his "brother" Ace from execution. But Garp stands in the way. Garp, who had a hand in raising both of these precocious pirates, has finished talking to Ace about how upset he is that Ace is getting executed, and now he looks like he's gonna punch the rubber out of Luffy (or at least he's making a really good show about it.)

  But he turns away. He closes his eyes. Sad music plays and he allows Luffy to punch him. You're crying. I'm crying. Your Dad is crying because you're crying about cartoons. Your Mom is crying because your Dad is crying about you crying and she always wished that she could get into One Piece, but couldn't work up the courage to ask you to explain what a "Grand Line" is. Your dog is crying because pets feel emotions, too. The whole world weeps.

  But if Garp was such a career navy man, couldn't he just swat Luffy off the platform? Couldn't he have just strangled Luffy back at Water 7? Couldn't he have just sat in Luffy's way and not let him leave the Windmill Village? Where does Garp the Navy Savior end and Garp the Lovable Grandpa begin?

  Garp certainly likes his job, but he takes liberties with it, which makes me wonder if Garp wouldn't be perfectly happy doing something else that would fit into his definition of "the right path." He certainly likes training Koby and Helmeppo, but he could just do that elsewhere, and he wouldn't even have to wear a uniform. He could probably just dress in a Hawaiian button-down and challenge tourists to push-up contests. That seems his speed. 

  I LOVE GARP

  I do. I think he's great and I think he's one of the most underrated characters that One Piece has to offer. And I hope that whatever character arc he has comes full circle. Garp had a habit of knocking Luffy around, even when Luffy was just a tiny rubber lad, and though it was mostly played for laughs, I think it would be cool to one day see a Garp that has further recognized the mistakes that he's made in child-rearing. Some of the progress is already there, and I believe that Garp could be a great example of the fact that, even though you may be old and set in your ways, you can still change for the better. 

  So I can't wait to see him again in the Reverie Arc and in any other arc that Eiichiro Oda can toss him into. So keep watching One Piece on Crunchyroll, and keep hoping that, eventually, Brawny Best Grandpa Garp gets the respect and love that he deserves.

  Do you also love Garp? Are you excited for the Reverie? Let me know in the comments!

--------------

  Daniel Dockery is a writer for Crunchyroll. You can find him reading the Gospel of Garp on Twitter.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

    By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[cinnamonroll-duffy]

The Last Girl on Earth--#ChoicesCreates29

This is in response to the Villian Prompt by @moonandstarscollide and @holly-park​

Summary: As Becca runs away from her problems, she finds herself faced with a new one. 

Starring: Becca Davenport, Madison, Lila (ES), Taylor (ES MC)

(Gruesome Scenes Warning)

Why was she blocking my way? I was ready to walk into the private jet, but Madison decided to be annoying and hug me before I walked up the stairs. 

“Look, I know things have been terrible between us, and I feel awful about it. We need to talk. I don’t want our last conversation to be a bad, shouty one. Becca, please, just listen to me.” I pulled my arms away from her and shook my head.

“No can do. I’m tired of your crap. Everyone’s crap. You’re Chelsea’s minion now.” Of course, Madison began pouting and almost weeping. That was too much to bear.

“How could you say that? Chelsea has been nothing but nice to me since you left the sorority. I thought we were like sisters, but I guess you had other things in mind.” Even if I hated her right then and there, Madison was right. I had too much on my mind.  

“Bye, Madison. If I never see your face in 4000 years, that would still be too soon.” I walked into the plane for my own private getaway. Yes, I was headed to the island paradise of La Huerta. I was able to ask my Dad to fork up some cash for this trip. Since he was feeling guilty about what happened to me and Mom, he agreed to it. I needed my own personal retreat, and it was coming in the form of tropical beaches, sunny days, and a secluded 5-star hotel.

Sitting in my seat as we took off, I shut my eyes and thought of all the reasons I was leaving Hartfield behind for a whole semester. I thought about how my relationships with Chris, Sebastian, and later Zig...all fell apart. Later, I thought of how I lost the trust of my new roommates when I still haven’t fully changed my ways, especially one who fought everyone else for the right to have me around. Last of all, I thought of how I wasn’t making my mom proud. I was still a terrible bitch to everyone in my life and I haven’t grown up. Exhausted, I fell asleep during the whole flight...

I woke up to see the plane in the middle of the jungle. Then, I checked the cockpit and didn’t see a single sign of the pilots. In the corner, I saw the emergency exit open. As I exited the jet, I saw a lady with short hair and an unmistakable tan. 

“Welcome to La Huerta. I hope your trip was enjoyable. My name is Lila, and I’ll be your host for your stay here. Let me get your bags for you.” I swear this woman must have been under all kinds of medications, because I had no clue why she was perkier than a Jack Russell Terrier.

“Why was the plane stuck in the woods? Where are the pilots? Most importantly, where’s the hot tub? I’m really irritable right now.” I knew so much mysteries were around me, but I couldn’t have given a damn as I needed to just kick back and relax. 

“I myself don’t know the answers to the first two questions, Miss. I could lead you to the hot tub, though. It’s in our world class outdoor spa facility as well as in each of our premium suites.” She had me sold. As we cruised down the path toward the hotel in Lila’s golf cart, I saw blood on Lila’s shirt, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. 

When we arrived at the Celestial, I was taken to the biggest suite, facing the ocean on two sides. I laid down on the King bed and felt the softest silk sheets I ever had the chance to touch. There was a hot tub by the balcony, so I turned that on and just allowed myself to breathe along with a glass of Chardonnay. Afterward, I turned on my phone and looked through my photos. The Wi-Fi password was “Andromeda”, which I found on a card in the desk. As I was fiddling with the card playing Dopey Cat and posting my window views on Snapchat, I saw on the back of the card a frightening message:

Running down the lobby, I thought of many scenarios in my head. I remembered the contest winners from Hartfield having vanished on a flight toward La Huerta, but I didn’t piece together that Taylor was one of them until I saw the note. By the time I reached the entrance, I saw a man in a suit nod at me. I knew that face anywhere.

“Miss Rebecca Davenport, I hope your stay in the Celestial has been everything you’ve wanted and more.” Everett Rourke had been one of my dad’s good friends, as they both worked on many business negotiations together.

“Mr. Rourke. Everything’s fine. Amazing Chardonnay from the bar, by the way. I’ve got a question and you’re gonna have to answer me.” I handed Mr. Rourke the note from Taylor. He studied it up and down before saying to me,

“Hmm, I’ll have you know that it was Taylor himself who went on a killing rampage. Apparently, he joined up with some of the Hostiles in this island to slaughter each and every one of his friends.” I knew right then and there Rourke was lying, as Taylor would never do that with a sane mind. However, I didn’t want to tip off Rourke’s hand. 

“OK, well, can you take me to the North of this Island? I know I’m the only guest, so surely you can accommodate that. The note says I need to speak with him. If he’s really the murderer, then I’m gonna kill him myself.” I knew that if I could find Taylor, he could explain to me everything. 

“Miss Davenport, check your phone calendar.” I looked through it and saw the date, [15 September 2024]. I did a double take and dropped my phone on accident. How did I lose 7 years of time? 

“What does this mean? I’ve been gone for 7 years? Look, Mr. Rourke, this is getting weird. I need to go home.” I didn’t know what happened during the plane flight to La Huerta, but I knew something wasn’t adding up and that my life was endangered every further second I spent in that island. 

Stop right there. You need to see this. This is what happened immediately after you left for La Huerta.” Mr. Rourke handed me a tablet. “You see, we sent a drone through the Lernaean Gate to document what was going on there with our various experiments.” I took a look at the video playing on the tablet. A volcano popped up out of nowhere and began spewing lava all over Hartfield. I saw the coffee shop I used to go to and people I knew dying all over. Then, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Madison die trying to help Chelsea up the sorority house for safety. The dread came over me of the fact I would never see or get the chance to say sorry to her for what I had done.  

“You sent a drone there and you couldn’t do a damn thing TO STOP ALL THE DESTRUCTION? What the hell was this experiment?” I slapped Rourke on the face and he just laughed.

“Now, young lady, save the anger for the forces who will try to stop me from making a better world. I will save your friends and much, much more.” His condescending tone was too much to bear. He obviously had something to do with Madison and everyone else dying.

“Shut up. I’ve had enough of you. I’ll find my way to see Taylor and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” Before I was to go, Lila came out of nowhere and pleaded with me.

“Please, don’t make this harder on Mr. Rourke than it has to be. Don’t make me have to kill you too.” I looked over at Rourke and then Lila, wondering if Lila was really capable of murder like Taylor warned me.

“Miss Davenport. I took the liberty of recording your friends’ execution. See, this is where Michelle Nguyen got stabbed by our own Lila. Look at the grace of how Lila slammed that knife into her...” I grabbed the phone and threw it to the ground.

“ENOUGH. Do your worst. Seeing Madison and Michelle die...I’d rather be with them than you two freaks.” That’s when Lila peered over to Rourke, who gave her the thumbs up. She pointed a gun at me and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit my head and fell to the ground, blood spilling out of my skull....

I was in a dark void...and someone tapped me from behind. Turning, I saw Taylor’s face. He looked just as hot as I remembered him. Short brown hair and that smile.

“Am I dead? I bet I’m in hell. That’s what I deserve anyway.” After walking toward me, Taylor gave me a hug.

“No, you could never be in hell. You helped me get through my worst year in Hartfield by giving my stupid roommates who hated me...some hell. Yeah, you’re dead. You never were able to follow my note to see me. By the way, you’ve got to do something about those bangs; They’re ugly.” I then wondered if Heaven was a dark place with only me and Taylor.

“Funny, but I don’t see any hairdressers around. Look, how did they kill you, Taylor? Did that Manson disciple Lila get to you too?”  

“So, um, I’m not dead yet and neither will you in a few minutes. I’m using telepathic energy to speak to you...to give you courage for the next step.” All that metaphysical mumbo-jumbo started to bore me at that point.

“That makes zero sense, Tay. Seriously. Are you high?”  At that point, Taylor laughed,

“You got launched to another dimension, skipped years in time, and saw all your friends die. However, you say that telepathic energy makes no sense?” Eh, Taylor, as much as I didn’t want to admit it, had a point.

“Whatever. Let’s just fast-forward to this next step.”

My eyes jolted open, I saw the blood rush back inside my head. Later, I saw the bullet ricochet out from my skull and into the open air. Lastly, my legs picked up and I was back with Rourke and Lila.

“What the, Mr. Rourke? I shot her and she just popped back up?” Confused, Lila tried to shoot me again, but she had no more bullets.

“Lila, this is no ordinary girl. Miss Davenport is...the Endless.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I felt like my adventure was about to begin...

[seanslaters]

Week 4

So let’s all pretend I posted this about a week ago, just to keep up the illusion of any kind of structure to me posting these, that’d be gr8. As of next week I’ll be free from the shackles of employment so fingers crossed updates will be more regular.

This week we have my phone case  which combines two of my favourite things in life: glitter and pineapples.

 Let’s finally get to recapping:

So we open with week with Smugden smirking in the Home Farm kitchen in Larry’s jim-jams (bit weird, ngl.) Chrissie’s probably in another room being oblivious as per while Robert’s probably trying to come up with some plan to shag Aaron on the down low without his wife figuring it out… Oh wait - no, we’ve not been hit over the head with a spanner a la Jimmy King circa 2010 and got amnesia. No, apparently we’re having our own version of the Time Warp right before our very eyes and gone back to 2015; the difference this time being that he’s just manipulating a different White sister who’s even more oblivious - it’s cool because it’s not like my patience was already wearing thin. But Rob’s not chilling for very long though - someone’s home! So he swiftly legs it up the stairs.

It’s Rebecca *internal groaning because more Robecca scenes = unhappy Chloë* and Robert’s back in his own clothes looking suitably dishevelled - really subtle babe, but at least your hair looks good when it’s all mussed up. They have a conversation that can be pretty much summarised as: dull business chat, zombies, more dull business chat, Rebecca being oblivious and oh look Lachlan’s here! (when are you going to start killing people Lucky? That’s the real question) Lachlan smells the poop with Rob being back in the mix but Rebecca lives up to the dumb blonde stereotype and conveniently brings up the CCTV that’s been switched back on. Oh no, what will he do? *looks to camera like I’m in The Office*

Rebecca is being annoying on the phone/oblivious once again (count the number of times I use ‘oblivious’ this week since it’s a big recurring theme) while Robert deletes the CCTV footage - shocker. Cue Lachlan announcing that Larry’s coming home. Cannot wait (said no one ever). Oh well Rob, you gave a good shot but maybe it’s time to call it a day now? Right? RIGHT?!

In the Woolie Robert orders more Armagnac. WAY TO GO ROBERT, SUBTLE AS A BRICK, ESPECIALLY WITH REBECCA CONVENIENTLY IN EARSHOT. She figures it out for once, but it’s ok that he drank her Dad’s special booze from Ronnie because Robert could literally punch her in the face at this point and she’d probably be grateful. I digress. News of Larry’s little nightcap gives Robert a brainwave and the next thing we know he’s managed to get a doctor’s appointment. On the same flipping day! Wonders truly never cease in Emmerdale. Rob gives his best Oscar-worthy performance for my one true love and light of my life Dr Cavanagh, explaining that he’s suffering from insomnia which isn’t technically a lie but as always will be glossed over…  so Dr C prescribes him some sleeping pills and oh look there’s the villain smirk again, love it *sarcastic thumbs up*.

Robert scrambles when Aaron shows up mid-pill crushing at the scrapyard, just as I’m about to give up all hope again. It’s cute and awkward and I just want them to make heart eyes and kiss again because goddammit I have needs ok? Later that night, Robert ninja stealths back into Home Farm and spikes the booze and tbqh the less said about it the better because it gave me war flashbacks *shudders* Because I know that personally I just love a casual bit of drugging a pensioner *even more sarcasm*

Next day in the café everyone is getting prepared for the random as f*ck Zombie Run and Rebecca’s stressed about Larry being woozy because she is literally the only person that gives a stuff. Rob’s going for the BAFTA this time, faking sympathy and suggesting she cancels the event if she’s that worried. Absolutely stellar performance babes. It helps when the person on the receiving end is super oblivious (Bex, when has Robert ever cared about Lawrence’s wellbeing? The answer is never). Lachlan refuses to cancel and tells him to keep his cute nose out. (I’d like to take a brief moment here to say that if you are reading this, I hope you appreciate the struggle I put myself through rewatching this particular episode in all its terrible, plotty glory)

Anyway… Bartsy are playing video games in the Mill in those awful massage chair things when Robert interrupts to say he’s lost his watch. More awkwardness ensues and Rob walks out with his tail between his legs for the 15869th time and Aaron looks #conflicted and I become more acutely aware that I need a reunion more than I need oxygen at this point. I don’t make the rules. At the scrapyard Aaron and Adam procrastinate more than me writing these recaps and Aaron reveals that he does in fact have the watch (and pretends he’s not kept it because he’s a soppy, sentimental git). Adam asks if it’s really over with him and Rob (IT’LL NEVER BE OVER AS LONG AS THEY’RE BOTH BREATHING MATE) and suggests they go out on the pull. No way blasé, I am emotionally fragile enough without that thank you very much. 

Meanwhile, in scenes that are so utterly ridiculous I can’t mock them because John Bowe has actually done my job for me (sorry guys, I tried) Larry, in his drugged up state, manages to drive a Jeep into a bunch of people (including Victoria) at the Zombie Run. What I will say is, I hope Vic has the personal injury lawyers on standby. Up at the house, compo comes in the form of Home Farm covering Vic’s loss of earnings but then again she has to be subjected to Rebecca trying to act like she’s angry at Lachlan, flapping over Larry and blinking at a million miles an hour so I’m not sure if that compensates for much. Get dialling Vic - sue the b*stards for every penny!

Back at the yard, Aaron stumbles across a little blue pill (I know what I’d be thinking if I found a pill of that description but that probably says more about me than anything else) and voices his concerns to Adam in the Woolie while Robert and Vic have some cute sibling banter and Robron make more awkward eye contact.

The next day in the pub, Aaron and Adam are both pining over the their Sugden other halves; we get confirmation they didn’t go on the pull (#blessed, my monoshipping heart is safe for another day); and Aaron basically says he’s still in love with Robert in a really inadvertently cute way (shut up, my recap, my interpretation, ok?) Aaron goes to the café and as soon as he walks in he literally takes Robert’s breath away (my god he’s so Extra™ and far gone I just love it). More mundane Robecca chat i.e. the same conversation they’ve had in various forms over the last 3 episodes *yawn* which Aaron interrupts to pull Robert away for a private chat.

Aaron whips out the pill and is super concerned while the iconic break up tune 'Out of Reach’ of Bridget Jones’ Diary fame plays in the background (I see you Emmerdale). Robert explains that he’s been struggling and gives us the line of the week “I don’t usually get dumped by the man I love” CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT? He sees this as a sign that they should get back together (Aaron love, you are literally his conscience at this point) but Aaron’s still not having it and says he’ll give him the number for his magical counsellor. Then we have another variation of the same Robecca chat except this time Robert is telling her to take control herself so he can take it for himself because she is (yep, you guessed it) oblivious. But his plan’s been foiled because the laced booze is now down the sink thanks to Bex. Rob looks p*ssed off but I breathe a sigh of (as it turns out, temporary) relief as that’s one less criminal charge to worry about.

Meanwhile Aaron looks really really really really pretty in the café and tells Vic to look out for Robert (HE STILL CARES SO MUCH *weeps*) She’s true to her word but he tells her he’s fine but one look at his face when she’s out of shot shows that he’s really not *weeps some more*

The following day at Home Farm, Robert’s helping out but Rebecca wants to keep it secret from Larry. Whoops too late. John Bowe decides to perk up a bit; he and Robert snipe at each other like the glory days and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself until the baby is mentioned (tbf it’s been a while since it’s been mentioned now that it doesn’t need to be used like a baseball bat to hit Robron like a piñata all the time now they’ve split but still. No.) Following on from last week’s lesson in reverse psychology 101, Rob tries it with Larry (not like that) and it works an absolute dream when Larry and Rebecca storm into the café arguing over a shiny new bottle of booze. The fools.

Vic’s crying in the pub because Jack’s grave has been damaged and her and Diane have already had an emotional heart to heart in the graveyard sans Robert but at least he knows now eh? Oh wait the Whites are here and my blood pressure’s on the rise again because it’s another baby mention and legacy character Jack Sugden is literally being used to manipulate that sh*tty family once again. Later on in the kitchen at Home Farm Robecca are being far too nicey nicey (yes I’m still that bitter) when Larry decides to call a truce. It’s like 2015 again but sh*tter and I’m just longing for my fave Chrissie to return from war and kick up f*ck. I think we’re finally out of the woods when Robert gets out more crushed pills. WHEN WILL YOU EVER LEARN YOU ABSOLUTE PLANK? DO YOU NOT KNOW THE RULES OF SOAP? YOU WERE FREE AND CLEAR WHEN IT WENT DOWN THE SINK, THIS MEANS YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO GET FOUND OUT AT SOME POINT NOW YOU ABSOLUTE WALLOPER. Smh (this plot unleashes my inner angry Glaswegian, soz)

Anyway, I’m not one to end things on a sour note, so to lighten the mood, here is a summary of my current feelings on the Whites, but one in particular 😉:

(Would’ve probably saved me a couple hundred words tbh 😂)

[queenlupitajones]

Becoming Lynette

“Models! Models! Models!” 

Shouts the floor manager in precise conviction as he ran around the corners of the fancy room where long-legged fashion entities dressed themselves in their most daring and unapologetic Twinkie tops and lace garments that draped their sun-kissed perfected nature. The boudoirs were lighted in incandescent luminosities reflecting beauty in gesticulation. Shades of luminous pink and high profile beige painted to hide freckles and the dark circles of the cruel world. Permed and ironed hot blondes and auburns and the plain dark waves arrayed in diversity as the music bombarded the runway with its beat and melancholic grace. Euphoric and agitated, fashion monsters sat still and spotted on the next big thing in the fashion world.

“Models, ready! In 3, 2, 1!..”

I walked towards the light, smiling with delicate consistency and vigor. My insipid legs swathed with sweat and the sparkling gems they pasted on me. I saw no one but myself in that moment. It was my moment. It was Jamaica Santorini’s magical moment.

Then I reminisced, in every pace of my Jimmy Choo stiletto, comes the flashback of a distant memoir. The echoing cheers were the roars of poverty that struck me pale and hungry for some dreadful nights, my girlfriends turned their backs and looked at me in the eye, their biting grin and scary scowls reminded me of the people who once challenged me and my dreams, stepped on me at times, and discouraged me a thousand fold.

“My catwalk was a killer, I did the Naomi Campbell twist with the Tyra Banks ‘smize’,” as my assertive mind exclaimed.

Another step to the aisle of fame and luxury, when I heard a gentle tick coming from the bottom of my tip-toed 6 inch heel. I tripped, and saw myself already on my knees, helpless, and nobody cared. Like a waterfall, my tears dropped to the floor and all the blinding lights went out, the crowd disappeared and I’m back to my dainty, old, pitiful self. The Jamaica from the hood, who counts stars and creates her own constellation out from the oblivious dots of her ambitious soul.

There I was, staring blank to the ceiling of my small space, enduring the redundant buzz of my dilapidated fan, blowing the sticky notes posted in my “Bucketlist Wall.” I stood and started picking the notes I have written religiously for the past 4 years. One by one, I contemplated the inspiration behind each note; “I will go and study in a prestigious university in the city.” I smiled, and realized I was already in it, studying in Crimson University was a privilege that won’t measure to any material bribe. That was my dream. I studied as an academic scholar grantee, after I graduated valedictorian in high school. I need to get a scholarship since my parents won’t be able to send me to college, I still have seven other siblings who will depend on the success of this journey. Yes. I am the family’s breed winner--a typical plot in our village.

It all started when mom passed away when I was five. I was playing with my friends in the neighborhood when I found out she had already gasp for her final breath. I knew my mom has an ailment, she was already bed-ridden for the past 6 months, I knew how much she wanted to stay and live long, because my mom was a fighter. She would always defend us when the bad guys come around, and she’s talented too, she sings her favorite song “Paper Roses” until we fall asleep, she’s the woman I adored so much, who won’t like to see us weak and weeping. She aspires her children to become strong and sensible men and women in the society. But I guess, she won’t be able to see us achieve our dreams for her.

Tears rolled from my eyes, the moment I started imagining her face. I snapped and scolded myself for being a melodramatic. “Positivity.” I uttered, and exhaled with enthusiasm. Another note, this time the purple one flew and landed on my side table; “Make my dad proud,” it read. “Oh, my dad,” I sighed.

Dad remarried 2 years after mom died. Instantly, my stepmother bore our youngest sibling. I knew how much dad would have wanted a complete and happy family. I would want that too. But, soon after he got married to that mischievous woman, his eyes withered and forgot all the emotions his children deserve. He’s always upset and frustrated. Like any man, he never spoke to us with such endearment, no “I love you’s,” just silence. No birthday parties, but early sleep roll calls. My dad has always been like that, strict, hushed, insensitive, and passive.

It was during my high school graduation that I felt all the world’s boulders wedged on my shoulder. He didn’t show up. In fact, I dedicated my speech to him, thinking that he’d be happier if he will hear all the beautiful words of gratitude that I toiled with the night before. I was such a cry baby, a weak spirited lass. But I never hated my father after what he did. I have to understand everything has changed. I am no longer his princess because he found her evil queen.

I came to my senses when I heard my phone rang. It was my best friend Lynette.

From the other line she said, “can you come to my apartment? It’s kind of boring here, I need someone to talk, and guess what? I bought you’re favorite Dunkin Donut, Bavarian Supreme!”

“I knew you’re gonna call. I’ll be there in a bit, I’m gonna claim my Bavarian Supremo! And one thing, I’ll sleep over, okay?”

“That would be great! See you because I missed you,” then she hanged up.

I immediately packed my things, my two-day-not-yet-ironed school uniform, my three year old black flats, my thesaurus, toothbrush, and a pair of fresh clothes. I walked from my dormitory to her apartment not minding the danger that could commence in this wild city street. There were prostitutes flaunting their flesh to the blind drunkards across the road, I couldn’t dare to watch the lewdness of the scene, nor the cat-calling and the obnoxious whispers of bigotry. I walked as fast as I could, and saw bunch of beggars asking for alms, children fighting over a piece of Chicken Joy. It was a dead end for them, and I felt scared thinking if such would happen to me.

Finally, I am at the front gate of my best friend’s apartment and saw Lynette coming out of the door. She was wearing a loose flannel shirt and a panda-printed pajama, she always looks beautiful whatever she wears and was always the cheerful one, affluent, since her mom is an actress, and her dad is a lawyer. She’s intelligent too, and very good in literature. That is no question since she’s this year’s University Queen Ambassadress. She’s got the wit and the beauty in every little bit of her bone. And the ironic thing is that she has a friend completely opposite to her in every detail. That’s why in our Grammar class, when the professor asked me to give an example of an antonym, my hypothalamus would always say “Lynette is the antonym for Jamaica.”

Lynette hugged me, and whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Lyn,” I responded.

We went inside her room and started exchanging conversations. She would always ask me about school and how I dealt with the environment. Everything seems fine to me, especially when I met Justine. Lynette always loves to listen to my stories about Justine.

“Tell me about Justine today? Did you meet?” she asked.

“Yeah, we were on… I mean, on the same class. And finally I got the chance to talk to him, I know it sounds crazy, but our conversation lasted only for 2 minutes.”

I was not surprised when she gave me the loudest “O.M.G.” in the world. Then, it’s like her tongue was in total panic, asking me questions from one after another.

“You go girl! That 2 minute talk is a killer! I mean, it’s already legit. So, what did he tell you? Did he tell you you’re beautiful? Did he asked you for dinner? Or a date? A study out? Or did he share something intimate to you?”

“What are you asking me? Of course he won’t tell me that I’m beautiful because in the first place I’m not. Worse, no one takes an ugly duckling for dinner or a date. Study out? That’s too impossible for a guy like him, he’d rather play online games the whole night than be with me. Something intimate? Never! Can’t you see? I’m a hopeless case. I’m plain and unattractive to any guy. Lynette, I’m not like you. We’re way too different, and Justine is too handsome for me, just imagine those deep, brown, Turkish eyes, those sexy eyebrows, his red lips, not to mention the competition I’ll be getting from the Queen B’s, especially Rebecca.”

Lynette rolled her eyes and said, “So you are afraid with that Rebecca slash Queen of Goats? Did you see her new hair color and that afro-perm she did with her hair? She looked like a lamb, an old, cranky lamb. I don’t even get the idea why she became cheerleader, when she’s not even cheerful, she’s always mean and rude and selfish. The world is such an ironic place sometimes.”

Then, she stood and took my hand, “come here you drama queen, who says you’re not beautiful? You know what? You are. Come here, I’ll show you something.”

She let me face her vanity mirror and instructed me to close my eyes.

“I want you to close your eyes and imagine all of the beautiful things that happened to you. Take a journey back to your memory lane and gather all your happy thoughts.”

She continued.

“What can you see? Now, I want you to hug yourself and as you open your eyes, gently utter the words, I am beautiful.”

I did what she said. Then she looked at me still holding her hands with mine.

“What you just said is true. Yes, you are beautiful, not because you are attractive but because you have this brave heart that could break any wall that fate would build. As long as you believe in the beauty of your dreams and have the undying will to achieve them, then you are no different from the women you see in the magazines.”

I was inspired by her words that I instantly hugged her.

“Did you really mean that? How I wish Justine will see that. Anyway, thank you. Can I eat my doughnut now?”

She just smiled and nodded.

I was in an impeccable solitude, it was a perfect moment. The moon is beaming and deflecting its interminable vivacity. Fireflies are dancing with the sycamore leaves swaying back and forth as the evening zephyr blew their acquitted amalgamation. I saw Justine in a corner, on his left hand is a red box, and on the other is a bouquet of dandelions and garden-fresh hyacinth. I was delighted to see him, he came closer, and closer until his deep Turkish eyes met my innocent dark round irises. I could feel his scent touching my cheeks which made my heart skip a beat. As Justine was about to make his way and enter my guiltless lips, I heard a reverberating sound of harsh foot steps coming from somewhere. I scrutinized the blurry panorama and apprehended that it was Rebecca wearing her interstellar gear.

“What are you doing? You grotesque and boring woman?” she shouted in fury.

Slowly, her friendly chortle, turned to a sour and loud laugh. She transformed into an eight legged monster and devoured Justine whole. I screamed witnessing the hostility.

My resounding scream went weak and what I heard next was the loud buzzer coming from the university corridor. That’s where I realized I was having a nightmare in broad daylight. Some of my classmates noticed how my body awkwardly reacted. Then I saw Lynette who was seated next to me, then she whispered, “Are you okay?” I only responded with a gentle nod.

I saw Rebecca and her girlfriends giggling, with their eyes jammed towards my direction. I didn’t pay attention to what they’re doing or even to what they’re saying because I know it’s not worth it.

There goes the last subject of the day. It’s going to be a long weekend since there will be no class on Monday. I am now receiving calls and text messages from my clients, one of them asked me to go to their house and do laundry, another client asked me to write a poem for her son’s school assignment. The most common task they usually ask me to do is to write reflection papers, and since I am a writer, writing about the same theme for 12 people is quite a tedious job. I did make a petty kind of living out from such minimalistic resources. It is my only way to survive in this money-matters-most urban state most especially now that my dad has less financial support for my school allowances. From once a week, it was reduced to once a month. It would really starve me. There would be nights where I have to sleep with an empty stomach and skip meals just to save my money up. It wasn’t easy negotiating with your feelings and at the same time tame the monsters inside your intestines. The act alone immunized my system, and it seems like my body just adapted to the drastic changes the situation has set me in.

As the academic stages ascended to its harshest adversity, my situation went from worse to worst then even worse than the worst. I couldn’t believe I will experience eating once in a day, consume left-overs from nearby bakeshops. Sometimes, I have to go to fast-food chains and apply as a dishwasher, just to get free food as a compensation for my labor. I remembered the beggars asking for alms in the streets.

“What if I join them? In that sense, I won’t be hungry, and eating less in a day won’t hurt because I’ll get used to it eventually,” as I spoke to my mind. But I realized, “No, I’m more than these problems, I am not a quitter who dwells in shortcuts, I am more than the hunger I feel, I am more than my own loneliness and the pain that succumbs my faith. I have friends, I have Lynette, and we will graduate together, I will become a teacher, and Lynette will become a supermodel. Yes, I’ll call Lynette, and tell her that I haven’t eaten lately and that I missed her.”

I tried to reach her phone. No one answered. I did it again, now for the tenth time, my fingers were tired, I think I should go to her and make it more personal. I reached her apartment at exactly six in the evening. I noticed her apartment was all dark.

“Is she home?” I asked myself.

I called for her name, but I heard no one but silence. I felt cold and forgot I was hungry. I’m puzzled and I want my question to be answered, “Where is my best friend?”

The mysterious disappearance of my best friend that day made me think, “I’ll be on my own now.”

“Rain and dust blurring the busy streets. Umbrella of lovers embracing the thin cool air. Grey, gloomy skies sauntering over and the sun in its slightest shimmer winks to the warm clouds. I cried stones over the lost of a friend, when will this sadness come to its end? But, I have to breathe for life and break free, I know our roads will cross soon and so I start anew.”

I was awaken by the loud and excited sound of foot steps in my dormitory, I checked my phone, it’s five in the morning. I opened my window and the warm breeze of March kissed my cheeks, I could see the half-risen sun emerging and devouring the city with its glorious emissions. The silhouette of the tall skyscrapers surrounding the city were a magnificent sight to contemplate. The scent of freshly baked pastries in the nearby bakeshop seems to invite me for a cup of warm chocolate. Everything looked perfect. I rushed to the shower room and pore over how this day will turn out. Then I remembered Lynette and the day she disappeared. It’s been two years and still my question is not yet answered. “Where is my best friend?”

Here I am, on my graduation day. Half excited, half so-so. I still missed Lynette. I climbed to the stage and faced the crowd on their special day and had my valedictory speech as this year’s batch Summa Cum Laude. Everything was normal, like how the early birds catch their early worms. I thanked my dad who, for the first time attended my graduation. I thanked all of my contemporaries, the school, and myself. I thanked myself because I remained brave for four years and I remained Lynette’s best friend even if she’s only a memory.

After the celebration, I went back to my dormitory alone and did looked at myself in the mirror.

In a gentle whisper I told myself, “I am beautiful.” Then the words ran from my mouth again and again, until tears dropped like dimes, I missed Lynette so much. My tears lead me to my slumber and dried on their own.

The next morning, I knew exactly what I want to do. I will become a fashion supermodel. I will take the path Lynette dreamed and take with me the idea that she has inculcated-- I am beautiful.

I cancelled my state board examination and pursued modelling. It’s like back to square one, but simply in a different direction, with different people, and a different goal. I went to go-sees and came across people in all walks of life. There were those who appreciated my efforts, commented on my weaknesses, and envied my success. I thought the road to the top of this industry is difficult, but the truth is, it’s only a walk in the park. It doesn’t require good looks nor a beautiful personality. I have met models with bad character, spreaders of negative rumors, and the insecure ones, and I don’t care much because at the end of the day, you don’t sell yourself, you sell clothes and promote them to the public. That’s what I understood.

In every fashion show I get booked in and in every camera that flashed me in candid, I realized I’m becoming more Lynette. In every Versace that I unzip I’m becoming more expensive and sophisticated. In every Gucci, or Prada I use to pack my clothes in, the more it defines my socio-economic status and in every country that I visited for my fashion shows, New York, Tokyo, Rio, Paris name it, the more I realized that the world is seeing me like how I wanted it to be. I was in the limelight, and I’m loving the pleasure that comes with it. I met gentlemen whom I danced and flirted with. I fell in love with the scent of money and fame. I had boyfriends and girl friends, enjoyed their company and hated their sympathies. I’m becoming more of Lynette, the envious, discontented and anorexic Lynette, who drugged herself to death.

The lights breathed back and the audience were still, as if they’re waiting for a quick recovery and without qualms, my overflowing confidence told me to stand from the fall. I picked myself up and faced the inaudible spectators with my convincing smile and poise. No one will stop me from where I am heading. This is the most beautiful accident that happened to me and its wounds are engraved in my soul and this, I will own forever.

I finished my walk and drowned with the crowd’s applause. I went backstage to change on my final look, with the same old routine, a dab of powder, and swipe of lip gloss to add to my shine.

“Models, in 3, 2, 1…” as the floor manager instructed.

I came out wearing Lynette in my core. I felt the world in my shadows, and the crystal embellishments singing in its melodious grand—the tune of victory.

In every step I take on that runway, I knew in my blood it was Lynette walking inside me, It was Lynette smiling and airing every single fierce mien, and the Lynette I envisaged of becoming.

[yanceyrenee-blog]

Chapter 11 Chaos!

Friday morning dawns with a beautiful blue sky but with a nip in the air. I dress and jeans and a sweater, as this my wife, though she looks better in them then I do. “ Remember Josiah I will be home late today. I am helping Beth get Nicole and Natalie settled." “ I remember. Y'all are going to pick Natalie up from middle school, right?” “Yep, then straight to Beth’s house.” “ Okay, no side trips to Nicole’s please” “ We have none planned.” “ If you do, please call me first so I can come with you." “Okay baby.” I turned her to face me. “ I am very serious love. Guys like Nicole’s and Natalie’s dad can be very dangerous when they are drunk.” She lift her hands up to reach my neck. “ I promise you we will go nowhere near their house unless you’re with us.” She stands on her toes to reach my lips. I lift her up to make it easier I tell Beth about Josiah’s concerns as we were walking to homeroom. “ Don’t worry Sarah. Nicole is bringing clothes in her book bag as is Nat.” “ Good because I don’t want to go anywhere near their house.” “ Me either I pray for him but….” “ I know.” The day passes like normal. We have a pop quiz in French. I was glad I have gotten all 30 verbs conjugated. I’m starting to get physics. At lunch, Nicole was so excited and told me the same thing that Beth had. That her and Natalie are ready to go straight to Beth’s house after school. “ What about your mama?” Tim asks her. “She’s spending the weekend with my aunt. Thanks for asking Tim.” “ I wish I could go with y'all.” ��� Sorry Tim. Wrong gender.” Beth teases him. “ Maybe next time Tim.” Nicole says and he grins. I think Tim has a crush on Nicole. In world history, Mrs Turner let's just work on our reports and class so I get a lot done on it. We study character development in creative writing. And then we are free. My classmates and I stream out into the beautiful fall Friday. I meet Beth and Nicole out front and we head to her car. Nicole is bursting with excitement. We drive a mile away and stop in front of Emerson Middle School. Nicole jumps out and runs inside to get her sister. When she brings Nat out, I see a miniature version of Nicole. She has her sisters long blonde hair and blue eyes. She is adorable. Nicole introduces us. That is shy at first but by the time we reach Beth's house she's warming up. Her eyes shine with the same excitement as Nicole's . Beth leads us all into her house. Her mama and daddy aren't home yet. Her mama is a nurse and is working 2nd shift for now. Her daddy is a lawyer and is preparing for a case. Beth leads the girls upstairs and I follow behind them. None of us thinks to lock the door. Best room has bunk beds from when her sister lived at home. Rebecca, her older sister by 3 years, is living on campus at Georgia State. She also has a regular twin bed. Plenty of room for her weekend guests. " Can I have the top bunk?" Nat asks," I've always wanted to sleep on the top bunk of a bunk bed." " Of course," Beth tells her," Becky, my sister, always let me sleep up there." They get into a discussion about sisters and I distracted with missing Josiah isn't paying much attention. I wonder over to look at the pictures best house of our group on her mirror. Because I'm over there I am the one that sees this shadow of someone reflected in the mirror. I react on instinct. I slam the door and push the lock before I even know that I'm going to do it. " Sarah! What's in the world?" Beth says in astonishment. I put my hand on my lips and hustle all three girls into Beth's bathroom. I shut and lock that door too. " Nicole is your daddy a big man?" I asked her in a whisper while calling 911. " Yes, why?" She answers just as 911 does. I whisper that we have an intruder that maybe the violent drunk father of two of the girls in the house. I give Beth's address just as we hear a very drunk voice calling out. " You can't keep me away from my girls! They're mine!" He is pounding on Beth's bedroom door. " Oh lord. That's Daddy." Nat says that she sinks to the floor. " What is the intruder's name?" Asked the calm voice at the 911 Center. " What is your daddy's name?" I asked Nicole as we hear crashing the outside of Beth's door. She screams and Nicole says, " Jerry Powers." in a small voice as she sinks beside her sister and takes her in her arms. " I am so sorry Beth." I gave 911 the info. " We are on second floor in a inside bathroom. In the second room on the left of the stairs. No he's still outside the door trying to get in. Sounds like he's trying to break the door down." " We have officers on the way. Please stay on the line." " Yes ma'ma." I say is I gesture to Beth to hand me her phone. She does and as I talk to 911, listen to Mr Powers trying to break down the door, and watch the other three girls for signs of shock, I text Josiah what is happening. He text back that he will be right there. " No baby. The police are on their way and we are safe for now." " I AM COMING!! Tell 911 they better beat me!!" I tell the 911 operator that my husband is on the way and his description. I get the description of Mr Powers, what I was able to get from Nicole, and give it to them also. Nat isn't talking anymore.She is just rocking back and forth, whimpering. Her sister and Beth are attempting to comfort her. I tell the 911 lady to send an ambulance too. She's tells me it is standard procedure. All we can do them as wait. I listen for sirens and Josiah's truck. " Siren's!" whispers Beth," thank God." " Amen!" Nicole says. We hear the sound of boots running up the stairs followed by, " Hands up where we can see them!" " They kidnapped my babies." We hear Mr Powers say. " Hands up! Now!" " I just want my babies." Nicole is softly crying beside me on the floor. I heard Josiah's truck squeal into the driveway. " Hands up or we shoot." Nat screams from her sister's arms. " See! That is my daughter." We hear a strange buzzing sound and Mr Powers screams. Nat puts her hands over her ears and rocks faster. " Taser," Beth says. " Sir, you can't come up here." Another voice says. " My wife is up there." Josiah tells him. " Okay. Just let us clear the scene." " Is she okay?" " All the hostages are fine." The same voice says and I think, " I don't think Nat is." I realize I'm going into shock. I think down beside Nicole and Nat. Beth puts her arm around me. Mr. Powers is weeping. I hear them jerk him to his feet and start downstairs with him. " Ladies. You are safe now. We got him. You can open the door now." But we can't. We all sit huddled together unable to move. " Why aren't they answering?" I hear Josiah ask in an anguished voice. That unfreezes me. I crawl over to the bathroom door and use the handle to pull myself up. I unlock it then I'm like that barely hold me up get to the bedroom door. I open it. Josiah sweeps in, ahead of the police, and grabs me up in his arms. I vaguely hear the police coming through the room, finding the others, and calling for the EMTs. He sinks on to Beth's bed and just rocks me in his arms. I cling to him. Safe is the biggest thing I feel.