i havent given much editing thought to this.. why? becaue i thoguht you guys aoculd do that. so. read it. and like, make it better, poitn out errors and stuff... that is if youre not to chicken...
chapa 1
Jamie hated the way the “pretty ones” stared at her and called her names. “Jesus, how skinny ARE you?” they’d say as they walked passed, never giving Jamie a second to reply. She didn’t have the elegant blonde or shiny ebony hair like they had; she had a bundle of scraggly brown horse hair that never seemed to get out of bed.
The pretty ones were what Jamie despised the most in her life at the moment. They were the plastic, robotic, and overall, just plain fake. She hated the way they painted their faces—their masks—attracting shallow mates like some sort of creepy insect or primitive bird. The brighter the colors the better, I guess. Jamie refused to color her face, to put blue mascara around her dark brown eyes, and any sort of lipstick on her flat pale lips. She would never reduce herself to their level.
She moved through the old school’s paint chipped hallways like a ghost, a ghost among ghost hunters investigating the weird and unexplained. They poked, pried, and instigated— anything to hunt down and provoke the lost spirit of Jamie Dubinsky out of the shadows, out of her alternate universe. And when she floated out into their cold, artificial world, they pointed and laughed. This is how she pictured her pathetic existence: A ghost, she was a ghost living amongst the dead, unable to fade away—unable to escape, so she thought.
Jamie’s dad, Mr. Dubinsky, had been offered a new job in a new town. He broke the news to the family during supper one warm evening. “Honey, kids, what do you all think about a permanent vacation to Iowa?”
“Iowa, Dear?” Mrs. Dubinsky said a bit surprised.
“Yes, Iowa. I’ve been offered a promotion to assistant manager out in our Kenova branch in Iowa. I think it would be a great experience for us all, don’t you think, honey—kids?”
Jamie didn’t know what to think—or what to say. She was piecing together everything her father just said, what it all meant. Moving? How many miles away? Is he serious? Jamie sat there thinking, staring at her plate of food neatly separated into four separate quadrants. One quarter devoted to the mashed potatoes, next to them were the peas, at the bottom left was a dried piece of pork, and next to that, circular diced carrots.
“What, are you serious? DAD!” Jamie’s sister blurted out. “What about my friends, and school? Did you even consider how we might feel? No, we can’t move. I already have a date to the prom!”
“Now now Amber, this will be a great experience for us all,” her dad was saying, but amber was already beginning to break down. Her eyes went watery around the edges, her lip quivered, struggling to hold in the unbearable emotions welling up inside her.
“You can’t do this! I hate you!” Amber shouted, running up to her room.
Save for the dull thumps above them, it was silent.
“…Well, how important is this to you, Frank?”
“Sherry, this is a once and a life time opportunity for us. When I take this position it’ll—
“Are we really moving, dad?” Jamie said speaking up. Both her parents looked at her like she was the ghost she always thought she was. “I mean, I really hope we do.”
“Oh, well that’s great, that’s great to hear, Jamie. I’m glad you think so and maybe you can convince your sister too.” Her dad said while her mother nodded.
Jamie wouldn’t though, she probably wouldn’t have even spoken up if her sister hadn’t had the tantrum and left. She just always felt more comfortable when her sister wasn’t around.
The rest of the evening was spent discussing their future plans in Iowa. And up stairs, Amber had taken a new interest in her dad’s razor collection.
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the second one will blow your mind into your out of skull! and yes, xena the warrior princess will also be making a guest appearence!
