LJ Idol Exhibit B Week 3
Title: Not Again!
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 833
A/N: Written as an intersection with thatssocory whose awesome entry can be found here. And, as always, concrit is always appreciated. ^_^
Saralee wakes with a start. Pink and green polka dot sheets pulled up to her chin, just like she likes. Barbies on the floor just where she left them. She pushes the sheets down and lifts her hand to her face, flexing her fingers in front of her eyes. Seeing is believing. She can move them, and it’s her doing it. She rushes out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Mama! Mama!” She tugs on the hem of her mom’s skirt. Mom’s at the stove cooking breakfast.
“Stand back, Little Lee. This is hot.” Her mom nudges her back gently with her leg. “I don’t want to burn you.”
“Mama! I can move.” Saralee waves her arms around to show her.
“Lee, did you brush your teeth?”
“Not yet, Mama. I wanted to show you.” She jumps up and down a couple of times. When she woke up yesterday, she could see everything and she could feel everything. She could smell pancakes cooking for breakfast. But she couldn’t do anything. She had no control. Someone else was inside her. Someone else was talking with her voice and hugging her mom and eating her lunch. She didn’t even pick the tomatoes off her bologna sandwich before she ate it. Saralee hated tomatoes. No matter how many times she told her mother she didn’t like them, she still put them on her sandwich.
It had happened before. A few times. The last time just a couple of weeks ago. It had been roller skating day for gym at school and she’d really wanted to show her best friend Sasha how she could skate backwards, but she couldn’t. Because someone else was controlling her. And someone else didn’t know she could skate backwards. So she just skated round and round the basketball court in boring circles. She didn’t even try to do the limbo. Saralee was the best at the limbo.
“Brush your teeth first, sweetie. Then you can show me.”
“But Mama,” Saralee whines. She knows her mom hates it. She’s too big to whine. But her mom didn’t even notice that she wasn’t herself yesterday. That someone else was her yesterday. She never notices.
“Don’t whine at me, Lee. Go brush your teeth then come back for breakfast. Eggs and bacon today.”
Saralee does as her mom asks, then heads back to the kitchen.
“Math test today, Little Lee?” her mother asks as she sets the table.
“No, Mama, that was yesterday.” Saralee climbs up into her chair and sits on her knees so she’s tall enough to reach her plate.
“How’d you do?”
“I didn’t take it.”
“What do you mean you didn’t take it?” Her mother puts a spoonful of scrambled eggs on her plate and three pieces of bacon. One piece of buttered toast was already there. And a glass of juice.
“I tried to tell you, Mama. It happened again.” Saralee takes a bite of her toast.
“What happened?”
“Someone else was me again. I knew the answer to four plus five. She said it was - ”
“Oh, goodness gracious, Saralee. Not this again.”
“But Mama!” Saralee is whining again. She knows she’s whining. But she can’t help it. She’d tried to tell her mom before after it had happened. The first couple of times, Mama had complimented her “wild imagination.” After that, though, she just seemed annoyed. She never believed her.
“No buts, Saralee. And stop your whining. Finish your breakfast and get ready for school.”
“But it’s nine, Mama. And she got it wrong. She said it was eight. But she knew what six plus three was, and that’s the same. I bet she was faking ‘cuz she didn’t know if I knew it and didn’t want to make me look smarter than I really am.” She speaks in a rush, standing in her chair and gesturing wildly with her fork.
“That’s enough, Saralee. Sit down. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Saralee pouts at Mama over her glass of juice but does as she’s told and finishes her breakfast in silence. She can’t believe that Mama wouldn’t listen to her. Wouldn’t believe her. If she were Mama, she’d know the days that Saralee wasn’t really Saralee. Because the other Saralee didn’t talk quite right. She talked with Saralee’s voice, but she sometimes used bigger words that Saralee didn’t understand all the time. And she didn’t write quite right. Her letters slanted while Saralee’s stood up nice and tall. Maybe she’d show Mama her math test and show her how the other Saralee didn’t even write her name right. And how she’d gotten four plus five wrong. Then maybe Mama would believe her.
As they’re riding to school, Saralee wonders if it would happen again. If she’d wake up one morning and not be herself again. She just hopes it doesn’t happen the next time it was roller skating day. She really wanted to show Sasha how she could skate backwards.
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 833
A/N: Written as an intersection with thatssocory whose awesome entry can be found here. And, as always, concrit is always appreciated. ^_^
Saralee wakes with a start. Pink and green polka dot sheets pulled up to her chin, just like she likes. Barbies on the floor just where she left them. She pushes the sheets down and lifts her hand to her face, flexing her fingers in front of her eyes. Seeing is believing. She can move them, and it’s her doing it. She rushes out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Mama! Mama!” She tugs on the hem of her mom’s skirt. Mom’s at the stove cooking breakfast.
“Stand back, Little Lee. This is hot.” Her mom nudges her back gently with her leg. “I don’t want to burn you.”
“Mama! I can move.” Saralee waves her arms around to show her.
“Lee, did you brush your teeth?”
“Not yet, Mama. I wanted to show you.” She jumps up and down a couple of times. When she woke up yesterday, she could see everything and she could feel everything. She could smell pancakes cooking for breakfast. But she couldn’t do anything. She had no control. Someone else was inside her. Someone else was talking with her voice and hugging her mom and eating her lunch. She didn’t even pick the tomatoes off her bologna sandwich before she ate it. Saralee hated tomatoes. No matter how many times she told her mother she didn’t like them, she still put them on her sandwich.
It had happened before. A few times. The last time just a couple of weeks ago. It had been roller skating day for gym at school and she’d really wanted to show her best friend Sasha how she could skate backwards, but she couldn’t. Because someone else was controlling her. And someone else didn’t know she could skate backwards. So she just skated round and round the basketball court in boring circles. She didn’t even try to do the limbo. Saralee was the best at the limbo.
“Brush your teeth first, sweetie. Then you can show me.”
“But Mama,” Saralee whines. She knows her mom hates it. She’s too big to whine. But her mom didn’t even notice that she wasn’t herself yesterday. That someone else was her yesterday. She never notices.
“Don’t whine at me, Lee. Go brush your teeth then come back for breakfast. Eggs and bacon today.”
Saralee does as her mom asks, then heads back to the kitchen.
“Math test today, Little Lee?” her mother asks as she sets the table.
“No, Mama, that was yesterday.” Saralee climbs up into her chair and sits on her knees so she’s tall enough to reach her plate.
“How’d you do?”
“I didn’t take it.”
“What do you mean you didn’t take it?” Her mother puts a spoonful of scrambled eggs on her plate and three pieces of bacon. One piece of buttered toast was already there. And a glass of juice.
“I tried to tell you, Mama. It happened again.” Saralee takes a bite of her toast.
“What happened?”
“Someone else was me again. I knew the answer to four plus five. She said it was - ”
“Oh, goodness gracious, Saralee. Not this again.”
“But Mama!” Saralee is whining again. She knows she’s whining. But she can’t help it. She’d tried to tell her mom before after it had happened. The first couple of times, Mama had complimented her “wild imagination.” After that, though, she just seemed annoyed. She never believed her.
“No buts, Saralee. And stop your whining. Finish your breakfast and get ready for school.”
“But it’s nine, Mama. And she got it wrong. She said it was eight. But she knew what six plus three was, and that’s the same. I bet she was faking ‘cuz she didn’t know if I knew it and didn’t want to make me look smarter than I really am.” She speaks in a rush, standing in her chair and gesturing wildly with her fork.
“That’s enough, Saralee. Sit down. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Saralee pouts at Mama over her glass of juice but does as she’s told and finishes her breakfast in silence. She can’t believe that Mama wouldn’t listen to her. Wouldn’t believe her. If she were Mama, she’d know the days that Saralee wasn’t really Saralee. Because the other Saralee didn’t talk quite right. She talked with Saralee’s voice, but she sometimes used bigger words that Saralee didn’t understand all the time. And she didn’t write quite right. Her letters slanted while Saralee’s stood up nice and tall. Maybe she’d show Mama her math test and show her how the other Saralee didn’t even write her name right. And how she’d gotten four plus five wrong. Then maybe Mama would believe her.
As they’re riding to school, Saralee wonders if it would happen again. If she’d wake up one morning and not be herself again. She just hopes it doesn’t happen the next time it was roller skating day. She really wanted to show Sasha how she could skate backwards.