Fanfic: Impressionable (A Repo! ficlet)
Title: Impressionable
Rating: Teen/PG/T
Fandoms: REPO! The Genetic Opera
Characters: Amber Sweet...sorta...
Wordcount: 489
Synopsis: Little Carmella Largo looks out of a window...
Warnings: Mild gore.
Disclaimer: I don't own REPO! Thank god someone does though. You visionaries, you!
Crossposted: repofiction, the Repo! forums, my LJ and The Genetic Archive.
Little Carmella was at an impressionable age, an age where things were just starting to really embed themselves into what would eventually be called her memory. When she looked outside of her bed room window, she could see the skies -always dark- just past the endless army of twisted steel sky scrapers. She was too high above the streets in her posh, perfect room filled with the best toys and games and cloths to see the suffering far below. But every once and a while on a hot summer night, when her window was open to ease the sweltering temperature, she would hear a scream.
Sometimes, she would catch Paviche, her younger-older brother, flipping through magazines. Once and a while he would steal them from their father's personal stash. Those ones would have pretty, pretty women on them. Carmella wondered if mama was pretty like that. When the magazines did not belong to daddy, they belonged to one of the two women that protected daddy. The women in those magazines were usually naked. Even though they were naked, they were so, so pretty!
Sometimes she would watch Luigi, her oldest brother, watch television. He would watch crime shows with lots of hitting and guns and blood. He would watch crime shows where everything was in shades of grey and everyone flipped coins in the air as they talked weird. It bored Carmella.
But in between these shows, Luigi would sneak peeks at the news. People would talk on and on about something called an "ah-pee-dem-ick". Whatever an ah-pee-dem-ick was, it was not a nice thing.
The footage on the screen caused Luigi to wiggle in excitement, his mind alight at the grotesque images, his smile, shark-like.
But it frightened Carmella, who was at the age where things were lurking under her bed at night. It frightened her to see people stiff and still, with flies buzzing around them and their skin sucked into their eye sockets. Their wrinkles were like a damp paper bag, their hair was like frayed rope, the people -dozens and dozens of them- were piled on top of each other and they looked smelly. Their mouths were frozen open by rigor mortise, their saggy jowls puffed out and pillowy from swelling under the skin. From the television, eyes stared back at her; never blinking, milky from death. A fly landed on one eye and on reflex, the little girl rubbed her own eyes. These people were ugly!
Carmella wrapped her little arms around herself, her skin warm and soft and perfect.
Daddy called her perfect. She was perfect and beautiful. Everyone said so. Daddy, Marnie, Mag.
She was beautiful.
Like the girls in the magazines.
Not like the on the T.V.
The window was open. Someone screamed.
On the television, the dead bodies were being thrown into huge fires.
Is that what happens when you get ugly? They burn you away?
She would never be like the women on the T.V.
Never, ever. Never.
Rating: Teen/PG/T
Fandoms: REPO! The Genetic Opera
Characters: Amber Sweet...sorta...
Wordcount: 489
Synopsis: Little Carmella Largo looks out of a window...
Warnings: Mild gore.
Disclaimer: I don't own REPO! Thank god someone does though. You visionaries, you!
Crossposted: repofiction, the Repo! forums, my LJ and The Genetic Archive.
Little Carmella was at an impressionable age, an age where things were just starting to really embed themselves into what would eventually be called her memory. When she looked outside of her bed room window, she could see the skies -always dark- just past the endless army of twisted steel sky scrapers. She was too high above the streets in her posh, perfect room filled with the best toys and games and cloths to see the suffering far below. But every once and a while on a hot summer night, when her window was open to ease the sweltering temperature, she would hear a scream.
Sometimes, she would catch Paviche, her younger-older brother, flipping through magazines. Once and a while he would steal them from their father's personal stash. Those ones would have pretty, pretty women on them. Carmella wondered if mama was pretty like that. When the magazines did not belong to daddy, they belonged to one of the two women that protected daddy. The women in those magazines were usually naked. Even though they were naked, they were so, so pretty!
Sometimes she would watch Luigi, her oldest brother, watch television. He would watch crime shows with lots of hitting and guns and blood. He would watch crime shows where everything was in shades of grey and everyone flipped coins in the air as they talked weird. It bored Carmella.
But in between these shows, Luigi would sneak peeks at the news. People would talk on and on about something called an "ah-pee-dem-ick". Whatever an ah-pee-dem-ick was, it was not a nice thing.
The footage on the screen caused Luigi to wiggle in excitement, his mind alight at the grotesque images, his smile, shark-like.
But it frightened Carmella, who was at the age where things were lurking under her bed at night. It frightened her to see people stiff and still, with flies buzzing around them and their skin sucked into their eye sockets. Their wrinkles were like a damp paper bag, their hair was like frayed rope, the people -dozens and dozens of them- were piled on top of each other and they looked smelly. Their mouths were frozen open by rigor mortise, their saggy jowls puffed out and pillowy from swelling under the skin. From the television, eyes stared back at her; never blinking, milky from death. A fly landed on one eye and on reflex, the little girl rubbed her own eyes. These people were ugly!
Carmella wrapped her little arms around herself, her skin warm and soft and perfect.
Daddy called her perfect. She was perfect and beautiful. Everyone said so. Daddy, Marnie, Mag.
She was beautiful.
Like the girls in the magazines.
Not like the on the T.V.
The window was open. Someone screamed.
On the television, the dead bodies were being thrown into huge fires.
Is that what happens when you get ugly? They burn you away?
She would never be like the women on the T.V.
Never, ever. Never.