Author's Games Entries

Arabella and Mommy

Pants were for big girls, so Arabella wore a dress instead. Busts were for big girls so there was puff and fluff that hung in strings about her body, as if to make her a child of noise. Such a loud dress. (I am the sound you cannot hear. Silence is how the view is made solid.) The red sheer mixed well against the oranges of her curled hair, which lay in ringlets across the splatters of freckles that lined her neck. Even the tiny blobs of skin called her ears had been decorated--clasp earrings with beautiful red drips of colored diamonds that sparkled and glowed from the inside the way amber did.

"Are you ready?"

Arabella didn't know. She giggled and chuckled and shrugged and ran her hands through the dress. It only came to her knees. Against the colorful, prideful, black and gray and green colors of the Capitol she was little outstanding. Her wedges fit into the polished tile floors and they didn't bang the way she had hoped. The brackets jingled but not enough. (Can I never make enough noise?) No, no, no inside thoughts, only outside thoughts, before I lose myself here inside of me.

It was smart she stop herself because they had been waiting on her response for quite some time. The collapse of the outer thought castle would wait until night, where her mind was free of the boundaries of conversation. Until then she would rely only on the barest thoughts. A reckless exchange, but one utterly worthwhile.

"Sure!" She giggled again and then answered a second time, "If such is possible. I guess I better get out there!"

By the time Arabella looked up to them they had gone. She didn't even know if they'd been there at all. Shaking her head, she tried to think of something to do. Empty. What's the use of a brain if it never works when I do? "Such pitiful use. Oh, the torture of my soul," she whispered.

The room was unbearably quiet so she stood and walked past counters of makeup and outfits and polish to reach the door. A cold handle was grasped and turned. Click, swoosh; it opened. She stole herself out and snuck through to her spot next to Drake in a lineup. Everyone was waiting and it appeared that she was the last to show up. Drake didn't turn around to talk to her, too caught up talking to someone else in line, so she waited and tried not to blush and get upset for being late. She looked around and felt her heart drop at the sight before her.

"Wow," she said lowly. They were all so pretty. The girls wore outfits that clung and enhanced their bodies. All of them looked perfect. The boys were worse, for they barely even needed makeup and they were handsome all the more. I'm just...a little girl. I'm not even pretty next to them. How do I stand out when I'm ordinary?

Apparently, very easily. It wasn't too long of waiting--only thirteen minutes of Lala land and fluff--before it was her turn to gracefully enter the stage, glide to her seat, sit down, and talk with the utmost confidence. They called her name and she started up the stairs, thankful that the others were waiting behind a closed door and couldn't watch her 'Behind The Scenes Failures'. Just as she reached the second step she tripped and the wedges fell to the ground, trailed rapidly by her long legs and slender body. "Ouch," she cried out.

Another second and two men picked her up and led her through a door she hadn't seen a moment prior. White worlds shined and lights were strong and they say her down on a bed with a clear sheet of paper overtop it. Dizziness overtook her and a prick of ice entered her veins and screamed aloud. A shriek overtook her at the sight of a three inch needle exiting her arm and she choked it off just before they ushered her out. Pain! Needle! Sh-fu-damnit, what just happened?