I Want You To Hit Me As Hard As You Can
So here's the deal with this one, I need a beta desperately. I have no idea how this evolved but it stopped being what I wanted and a need an objective opinion to decide my course of action. So please, take a look and if you're at all interested let me know. I'd greatly appreciate it.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it. Nor am I claiming ownership. You could sue, but really is my DvD collection and a Great Adventure pen really worth all that trouble. You can totally have the pen.
Characters: Mostly OC, Outsider POV of the family
Warnings: One obvious spoiler to BD, but none really outside of that
Genre: General
Words: 2,279
Summary: The places and the names may change, but the rain and the Cullens stay the same
sample:
No one will ever be able to explain why her grandmother chose to live and
die in this freakishly small town in the Pacific Northwest. Her parents had
always avoided it like the plague, or at least her mother had. As it were she
and Gran only saw each other on holidays that were hosted by her parents
where her parents chose.
They’d always lived a nearly nomadic existence, with both her parents
products of the neo-hippie trend that took route in the early two thousands.
They weren’t very ‘into’ being tied down, placing roots, being their parents.
She idly wondered if they’d realize the irony in her standing on the same
from porch her mother had run across before jumping into her dad’s hybrid,
taking one last breath before knocking and resigning herself to at least two
more years in the maternally-forsaken town, population 1,322. And rising.
She knew her grandmother was a good woman, she knew she’d care for her
and that they’d never have much cause for communication or concern. She
was nothing like her mother. Most never even assumed they had been
related in anyway. Her mother was tall, willowy, blonde and tan, in the same
way her father was, but she was short, brunette, blue-eyed and sarcastic. In
short she was her father’s father. Her mom hugged trees and had a
penchant for adopting puppies, where as she was allergic to most plant life
and wholly aware that puppies grew into dogs. Something her adorable,
charismatic and flighty parents had never quite remembered.
So no, she would not be sneaking boys out of her bedroom window, nor
would she be leaving with one in Toyota and refusing to write. She would
not claim that public education as simply an indoctrination system that
aimed to groom all sense of creativity from its pupils. She wouldn’t boycott
her chores because the cleaning products provided were not eco-friendly.
She would do her homework, on time and well, she would go to her public
school, she would read without it being assigned, she would save the money
she was given and that which she earned. She would breeze through life
quietly, safely, and calmly with a logical course of action in mind. She would
set goals and be conscious of her efforts to achieve them. It was the way
she had always been. It was the plan she had always had.
Of course the plan was supposed to be put in effect in her next six schools,
with her parents urging her to consider taking time off after graduation to
‘find herself’. Not in some town that wasn’t even actually on a local map at a
singular school with a graduating class that didn’t even hit triple digits with a
grandmother as levelheaded and sturdy as she was. Then again who plans
for a drunk driver and a perpetually empty tank? Certainly not her parents.
As showcased by her meeting with a social services agent ten hours after a
cruiser picked her up from her apartment. Her parents had no lawyer, no
will, and no life insurance. That would have required forethought. They were
a few of the many reasons she was unpacking here in the middle of
nowhere. Her Gran had offered the day off for the task, but with nomadic
guardians you travel light. She politely replies that she’d like nothing more
than to get to school so she can access her academic situation. Was there a
bus she could take?
Her Gran, a woman who looked every bit the part of a hardworking, salt of
the earth, family rock smiled pleasantly, showing off the beauty she had
once had that her mother would never have the chance to lose. “Actually,”
she started, her voice as gritty as it should be, “I was thinkin’ maybe you
could take the old Honda your mother used to drive.”
She nodded quickly to respond but her Gran began again, “You do have a
license right? Mary remembered at least that much?” How her mother must
have lamented having such a decidedly ‘plain’ name like Mary? She gave her
affirmation and quietly wondered at how much time she had before the first
bell and if she could fill the tank beforehand. She began shouldering her bag
that she had organized on the plane when her Gran placed a tentative hand
on her arm. She cleared her throat and troubled look set on her features.
Whatever she was planning to say she wasn’t very comfortable with it.
“Now River,” she tried not to sigh at the way she tripped over the name.
Most people did. Her mother had made up for her misnaming by saddling
her with one like River. It was pretty and all, but it also caught far too much
attention. “I know that you’ve been through a whole hell of lot lately and the
last thing I want to do is to start tying you down the minute you get here.
But I don’t know what kind of structure Mary and that boy were-“
River cut her off, a smile on her lips, this was one concern she could
alleviate, besides the not-so-subtle she put emphasis on things like ‘tying
down’ and ‘structure’ was so laden with double meaning that it was easy to
see the direction of the conversation. “Gran, you don’t have to worry about
it. I’ve never really been a…free spirit the way mom and dad ar-were. I’m
pretty quiet actually. I read mostly, I enjoy school and I’ve never found
much interest in illegal extra-curriculars. Really. You’ll barely even notice
me.” She turned to leave, anxious to start and finish the day but stopped,
“And if you have any chores you’d like me to do just leave me a list before
you leave and I’ll make sure they’re finished before dinner.”
That answer was enough to silence the older women and she headed to her
mother’s car. A sun bleached blue Honda civic that was only still running
because it was a Honda. The interior had been recently detailed and smelled
of choke-inducing pine and Amor-All. Happy to be alone again River slid the
key into the ignition and started on her way to the high school. In any other
town she might have needed to ask for direction before beginning such a
trek, but in one this small it wasn’t hard to follow the one main road down a
few miles past town to the brick complex on the right. A parking spot
secured she made her way to registrar/nurse/principal/guidance
counselors/attendance/dean’s office.
The rest of the morning was pretty standard fair, after all this was her fifth
high school in two years. Her peers seemed highly intrigued by the addition,
but didn’t really bother her more than she was accustomed. She fielded the
usual question, completely ignored those about her parents, and otherwise
kept an iPod and a book as her own unofficial barrier. It worked, until she
had the complete misfortune of sitting next to this school’s version of a
gossip queen. No amount of Vonnegut bricked and Robert Johnson barbed
blockade could deter the MTV groupie.
By the end of the tiresome art class she had resigned herself to veiled
sarcastic comments that the insipid girl completely missed and an onslaught
of useless information about every person within the walls of Theodore
Roosevelt High. One of the girl’s own kind would have found it enlightening
and enthralling, her parents would have urged her to look for the good in
this Melanie girl and try to build some kind of common ground towards
harmony or peace or whatever, her paternal grandfather and the single
greatest man on the planet pre-six years ago would have advised her to
deck the girl and be done with it.
She smiled politely and continued on with the unnoticed sarcasm. It was her
main mode of function in these situations. Girls like Melanie tended to
assume she was a kindred spirit, pretty new girl with good hygiene must be
just like them, however if they took the time to scroll through her playlist,
run a finger along one of her bookshelves or decipher to cryptic Army of
Darkness reference on her t-shirt they would have realized that they were
horribly wrong.
Melanie insisted that she accompany her to lunch on the way to which she
asked her a question she was beyond tired of hearing, “So River that’s an
interesting name.”
“My mom was a total Browncoat.” River supplied automatically, her tone as
dry her wit. She could swear she heard someone snort, but when she looked
around she didn’t see the culprit.
Melanie did as she had for the last forty-seven minutes and ignored the
statement that she didn’t understand. “I always wanted a more unique name
you know? Everyone’s a Melanie.”
“Two whole Spice Girls.” River answered with mock sincerity, again she
thought she heard a distant chuckle.
The conversation, as well as the mysterious eavesdropper was forgotten
however because Melanie had guided them towards he lunch table, one filled
with people just like her. River bit back the groan and tried to suppress the
urge to roll her eyes. She found a place at the edge of the table, towards the
center of lunchroom and facing the crowd. She hated to have people seated
behind her. Melanie quickly plopped down across from her and ranted on
about names. River gave her half an ear but pulled Cat’s Cradle from her
bag at her feet, wondering if she could read it under the table without
anyone catching wise. It was during that contemplation and the alignment of
logistics that a subtle but distinct lull fell over the thrum of voices in the
cafeteria. It quickly diverted her attention and looked up.
Of all the things one expects to find in a small Pacific Northwestern town
population 1,322 a set of models finer than any seen within even the rolodex
of Ford was not really on the list. River couldn’t help but take in the six
incredibly gorgeous and graceful teens as they lounged at a table across the
room. One, who had entered with his hand wrapped around the waist of an
unbelievably spectacular, short brunette with long silk hair and a heart-
shaped faced while he whispered something he found incredibly amusing
into her ear turned after they sat and met her gaze. She smiled weakly and
this seemed to amuse him. He turned back to his companions and the entire
table looked at her quickly before turning their attentions to another
brunette, where they sistsers?, this one with closely cropped hair and
delicate features whose hand rested atop the tall blond boy at her side. She
chattered animatedly and smiled sweetly her gaze flickering to River and
back.
Melanie nudged her from her reverie with a snap of her fingers and wave in
front of her face. “Don’t even bother.” She started.
“What?” River asked, genuinely confused and now focused on Melanie and
not the mysterious modeling agency that had taken residence ten yards
away. Melanie tusked as if it were obvious and rolled her brown eyes.
“The Cullens. It’s never going to happen.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” River answered in a
similarly dramatic tone. “What are ‘the cullens?’”
“They’re the Cullens.” Melanie supplied in such a way that implied that that
should have been obvious. River cast another quick look at the laughing
group down the row. “They’re Dr. Cullens like foster whatevers. He and wife
take in strays or whatever. But you shouldn’t waste your time, they don’t
bother with the rest of us, and they’re all like ‘taken’ you know, they’re all
like ‘together’ and stuff.”
This time it was River that wanted to roll her eyes. Apparently Melanie
thought with her hormones and assumed she did as well. Yes, it was
undeniable that the three pairs across the room were incredibly attractive,
beyond that even, but it was also painfully obvious from the way the most
beautiful girl, the blonde and the heavier set guy tangled their finger on the
tabletop between them, from the way the pixie brunette and the tall blond
guy sat so closely together and never stopped contact, and especially from
the way the bronze haired boy and the heart-stopping brunette looked at
each other and never kept their hands to themselves that each one was very
much spoken for. They caught River’s immediate attention because they
were shiny; they held it because they didn’t belong.
They were like shabbily pasted cutouts from the latest spread of some teen
magazine, or from some teen soap where the actors were far too pretty and
far too old to play their parts. She had always prided herself with her ability
to understand how things, how people worked. It was a natural and honed
talent, her ability to decipher her surroundings. Garnered from a perceptive
and bright mind that had seen more of the world than most three times her
age with a G4. However these six puzzle pieces did not fit. She frowned a
bit, something Melanie must have took for her lamenting the loss of a future
beau because she began going on about how odd it was to have three
couples under one roof.
River ignored her almost completely and chewed on her apple. She
wondered over the look the one she now knew to be called ‘Edward’ had
given her. Why the whole Cullen clan then looked her way. And lastly why
the one known as Alice has smiled at her so warmly when all eyes were
turned to her instead?
Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it. Nor am I claiming ownership. You could sue, but really is my DvD collection and a Great Adventure pen really worth all that trouble. You can totally have the pen.
Characters: Mostly OC, Outsider POV of the family
Warnings: One obvious spoiler to BD, but none really outside of that
Genre: General
Words: 2,279
Summary: The places and the names may change, but the rain and the Cullens stay the same
sample:
No one will ever be able to explain why her grandmother chose to live and
die in this freakishly small town in the Pacific Northwest. Her parents had
always avoided it like the plague, or at least her mother had. As it were she
and Gran only saw each other on holidays that were hosted by her parents
where her parents chose.
They’d always lived a nearly nomadic existence, with both her parents
products of the neo-hippie trend that took route in the early two thousands.
They weren’t very ‘into’ being tied down, placing roots, being their parents.
She idly wondered if they’d realize the irony in her standing on the same
from porch her mother had run across before jumping into her dad’s hybrid,
taking one last breath before knocking and resigning herself to at least two
more years in the maternally-forsaken town, population 1,322. And rising.
She knew her grandmother was a good woman, she knew she’d care for her
and that they’d never have much cause for communication or concern. She
was nothing like her mother. Most never even assumed they had been
related in anyway. Her mother was tall, willowy, blonde and tan, in the same
way her father was, but she was short, brunette, blue-eyed and sarcastic. In
short she was her father’s father. Her mom hugged trees and had a
penchant for adopting puppies, where as she was allergic to most plant life
and wholly aware that puppies grew into dogs. Something her adorable,
charismatic and flighty parents had never quite remembered.
So no, she would not be sneaking boys out of her bedroom window, nor
would she be leaving with one in Toyota and refusing to write. She would
not claim that public education as simply an indoctrination system that
aimed to groom all sense of creativity from its pupils. She wouldn’t boycott
her chores because the cleaning products provided were not eco-friendly.
She would do her homework, on time and well, she would go to her public
school, she would read without it being assigned, she would save the money
she was given and that which she earned. She would breeze through life
quietly, safely, and calmly with a logical course of action in mind. She would
set goals and be conscious of her efforts to achieve them. It was the way
she had always been. It was the plan she had always had.
Of course the plan was supposed to be put in effect in her next six schools,
with her parents urging her to consider taking time off after graduation to
‘find herself’. Not in some town that wasn’t even actually on a local map at a
singular school with a graduating class that didn’t even hit triple digits with a
grandmother as levelheaded and sturdy as she was. Then again who plans
for a drunk driver and a perpetually empty tank? Certainly not her parents.
As showcased by her meeting with a social services agent ten hours after a
cruiser picked her up from her apartment. Her parents had no lawyer, no
will, and no life insurance. That would have required forethought. They were
a few of the many reasons she was unpacking here in the middle of
nowhere. Her Gran had offered the day off for the task, but with nomadic
guardians you travel light. She politely replies that she’d like nothing more
than to get to school so she can access her academic situation. Was there a
bus she could take?
Her Gran, a woman who looked every bit the part of a hardworking, salt of
the earth, family rock smiled pleasantly, showing off the beauty she had
once had that her mother would never have the chance to lose. “Actually,”
she started, her voice as gritty as it should be, “I was thinkin’ maybe you
could take the old Honda your mother used to drive.”
She nodded quickly to respond but her Gran began again, “You do have a
license right? Mary remembered at least that much?” How her mother must
have lamented having such a decidedly ‘plain’ name like Mary? She gave her
affirmation and quietly wondered at how much time she had before the first
bell and if she could fill the tank beforehand. She began shouldering her bag
that she had organized on the plane when her Gran placed a tentative hand
on her arm. She cleared her throat and troubled look set on her features.
Whatever she was planning to say she wasn’t very comfortable with it.
“Now River,” she tried not to sigh at the way she tripped over the name.
Most people did. Her mother had made up for her misnaming by saddling
her with one like River. It was pretty and all, but it also caught far too much
attention. “I know that you’ve been through a whole hell of lot lately and the
last thing I want to do is to start tying you down the minute you get here.
But I don’t know what kind of structure Mary and that boy were-“
River cut her off, a smile on her lips, this was one concern she could
alleviate, besides the not-so-subtle she put emphasis on things like ‘tying
down’ and ‘structure’ was so laden with double meaning that it was easy to
see the direction of the conversation. “Gran, you don’t have to worry about
it. I’ve never really been a…free spirit the way mom and dad ar-were. I’m
pretty quiet actually. I read mostly, I enjoy school and I’ve never found
much interest in illegal extra-curriculars. Really. You’ll barely even notice
me.” She turned to leave, anxious to start and finish the day but stopped,
“And if you have any chores you’d like me to do just leave me a list before
you leave and I’ll make sure they’re finished before dinner.”
That answer was enough to silence the older women and she headed to her
mother’s car. A sun bleached blue Honda civic that was only still running
because it was a Honda. The interior had been recently detailed and smelled
of choke-inducing pine and Amor-All. Happy to be alone again River slid the
key into the ignition and started on her way to the high school. In any other
town she might have needed to ask for direction before beginning such a
trek, but in one this small it wasn’t hard to follow the one main road down a
few miles past town to the brick complex on the right. A parking spot
secured she made her way to registrar/nurse/principal/guidance
counselors/attendance/dean’s office.
The rest of the morning was pretty standard fair, after all this was her fifth
high school in two years. Her peers seemed highly intrigued by the addition,
but didn’t really bother her more than she was accustomed. She fielded the
usual question, completely ignored those about her parents, and otherwise
kept an iPod and a book as her own unofficial barrier. It worked, until she
had the complete misfortune of sitting next to this school’s version of a
gossip queen. No amount of Vonnegut bricked and Robert Johnson barbed
blockade could deter the MTV groupie.
By the end of the tiresome art class she had resigned herself to veiled
sarcastic comments that the insipid girl completely missed and an onslaught
of useless information about every person within the walls of Theodore
Roosevelt High. One of the girl’s own kind would have found it enlightening
and enthralling, her parents would have urged her to look for the good in
this Melanie girl and try to build some kind of common ground towards
harmony or peace or whatever, her paternal grandfather and the single
greatest man on the planet pre-six years ago would have advised her to
deck the girl and be done with it.
She smiled politely and continued on with the unnoticed sarcasm. It was her
main mode of function in these situations. Girls like Melanie tended to
assume she was a kindred spirit, pretty new girl with good hygiene must be
just like them, however if they took the time to scroll through her playlist,
run a finger along one of her bookshelves or decipher to cryptic Army of
Darkness reference on her t-shirt they would have realized that they were
horribly wrong.
Melanie insisted that she accompany her to lunch on the way to which she
asked her a question she was beyond tired of hearing, “So River that’s an
interesting name.”
“My mom was a total Browncoat.” River supplied automatically, her tone as
dry her wit. She could swear she heard someone snort, but when she looked
around she didn’t see the culprit.
Melanie did as she had for the last forty-seven minutes and ignored the
statement that she didn’t understand. “I always wanted a more unique name
you know? Everyone’s a Melanie.”
“Two whole Spice Girls.” River answered with mock sincerity, again she
thought she heard a distant chuckle.
The conversation, as well as the mysterious eavesdropper was forgotten
however because Melanie had guided them towards he lunch table, one filled
with people just like her. River bit back the groan and tried to suppress the
urge to roll her eyes. She found a place at the edge of the table, towards the
center of lunchroom and facing the crowd. She hated to have people seated
behind her. Melanie quickly plopped down across from her and ranted on
about names. River gave her half an ear but pulled Cat’s Cradle from her
bag at her feet, wondering if she could read it under the table without
anyone catching wise. It was during that contemplation and the alignment of
logistics that a subtle but distinct lull fell over the thrum of voices in the
cafeteria. It quickly diverted her attention and looked up.
Of all the things one expects to find in a small Pacific Northwestern town
population 1,322 a set of models finer than any seen within even the rolodex
of Ford was not really on the list. River couldn’t help but take in the six
incredibly gorgeous and graceful teens as they lounged at a table across the
room. One, who had entered with his hand wrapped around the waist of an
unbelievably spectacular, short brunette with long silk hair and a heart-
shaped faced while he whispered something he found incredibly amusing
into her ear turned after they sat and met her gaze. She smiled weakly and
this seemed to amuse him. He turned back to his companions and the entire
table looked at her quickly before turning their attentions to another
brunette, where they sistsers?, this one with closely cropped hair and
delicate features whose hand rested atop the tall blond boy at her side. She
chattered animatedly and smiled sweetly her gaze flickering to River and
back.
Melanie nudged her from her reverie with a snap of her fingers and wave in
front of her face. “Don’t even bother.” She started.
“What?” River asked, genuinely confused and now focused on Melanie and
not the mysterious modeling agency that had taken residence ten yards
away. Melanie tusked as if it were obvious and rolled her brown eyes.
“The Cullens. It’s never going to happen.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.” River answered in a
similarly dramatic tone. “What are ‘the cullens?’”
“They’re the Cullens.” Melanie supplied in such a way that implied that that
should have been obvious. River cast another quick look at the laughing
group down the row. “They’re Dr. Cullens like foster whatevers. He and wife
take in strays or whatever. But you shouldn’t waste your time, they don’t
bother with the rest of us, and they’re all like ‘taken’ you know, they’re all
like ‘together’ and stuff.”
This time it was River that wanted to roll her eyes. Apparently Melanie
thought with her hormones and assumed she did as well. Yes, it was
undeniable that the three pairs across the room were incredibly attractive,
beyond that even, but it was also painfully obvious from the way the most
beautiful girl, the blonde and the heavier set guy tangled their finger on the
tabletop between them, from the way the pixie brunette and the tall blond
guy sat so closely together and never stopped contact, and especially from
the way the bronze haired boy and the heart-stopping brunette looked at
each other and never kept their hands to themselves that each one was very
much spoken for. They caught River’s immediate attention because they
were shiny; they held it because they didn’t belong.
They were like shabbily pasted cutouts from the latest spread of some teen
magazine, or from some teen soap where the actors were far too pretty and
far too old to play their parts. She had always prided herself with her ability
to understand how things, how people worked. It was a natural and honed
talent, her ability to decipher her surroundings. Garnered from a perceptive
and bright mind that had seen more of the world than most three times her
age with a G4. However these six puzzle pieces did not fit. She frowned a
bit, something Melanie must have took for her lamenting the loss of a future
beau because she began going on about how odd it was to have three
couples under one roof.
River ignored her almost completely and chewed on her apple. She
wondered over the look the one she now knew to be called ‘Edward’ had
given her. Why the whole Cullen clan then looked her way. And lastly why
the one known as Alice has smiled at her so warmly when all eyes were
turned to her instead?