The South Rainbow is a town made of butterflies and bunny rabbits. To be exact, every building is painted a bright and vibrant colour, with three parks- one to the far north, one to the far south and one directly in the centre of the little town. There is one marketplace and one small buisness in the printing industry. There is a joint high school, primary school and collage, where children learn, above all else, to be thankful and happy.
These are two things Laura Meriweather Jones was not. Her house was directly behind the tiny cemetary, where every tombstone was polished and beautiful, decorated with multicoloured flowers and bright green grass. It was a mockery of what cemetaries should be like, she reflected as she stared through her bedroom window, deep in contemplation. Real cemetaries didn't have beauty or loveliness. They were a symbol of the suffering the dead had gone through in their lives, following orders and never actually doing anything worthwhile with their wretched selves. No one in the South Rainbow gave a second thought to social structure, or ever bothered to consider changing the world. To Laura, being a normal child was like torture. Every piece of homework she had to do was like a two tonne weight on her shoulders, pushing on her brain and giving her a headache. She despised the girls in her class for being so prim and perfect, always doing their homework, sniggering and giggling like their brains had leaked out through their ears. She hated that teachers would be so patronising and helpful all the time. Each time they asked "could you help me with this, buttercup?" she'd gritt her teeth and grumble her way down the corridor, listening for the eventual crash as the books she was supposed to help with clattered to the floor.
Laura herself was the image of beauty; she had long, blonde, straight and flowing hair, and her skin was pale and smooth. Her eyes were a gentle green and large, yet her perfect red lips never seemed to smile in kindness or happiness. She was quietly brilliant, and could often be seen reading horror fiction in the corner of the playground while the rain was thick and heavy, shivering under the huge umbrella she carried to keep the scorching sun off her pale face. She would peer over the top of the book, looking up through the tops of her eyes, whenever a small child would approach to mock her with their stupidity and helpfulness. She had never played their idiotic games and never made friends or even acquaintances of any of them, and never would. The only game she enjoyed was chess, and that was only because she was so good at it. Her teachers would call it a gift, but she called it a need to destroy her enemies in battle. She despised the fashionistas and gossipers, and would enjoy endless days torturing them by telling them she had read in a magazine that Cheryl Cole had been spotted nearby, wearing a bright pink wooly hat on her head and fluffy orange legwarmers. Out of devotion, they would inform everyone and take to the streets searching for her obediently wearing their bobble hats and legwarmers. She would snigger, looking up from her horror fiction, at the large group of ridiculous girls buying Cheryl Cole t-shirts and bright pink bobble hats, only to realise they had wasted a month's pocket money on "we love you, Cheryl" banners and new clothes.
Once people heared about her (since no one in the real world seemed to get to know anyone before asking around what exactly they were getting themselves into), they would know she was a thoroughly dislikable, dark, and pompous emo with nothing better to do than bury herself in horror fiction when there was a world of beauty all around her. Laura had lived in the cities, living amongst horrible, dislikable, ugly bullying children until her tenth birthday, when her parents had found a winning lottery ticket and moved to a "better place". There, she had been the small nerdy, snotty little girl the others enjoyed pushing into walls on their way past in the corridors and laughing at her. She had submerged herself in horror fiction to prevent her mind from exploding from the pain being excluded from youth society, and the harsh reality of life stuck her like a fist. None of these feelings left her when they moved, and suddenly she was the scary, mysterious one. She was not going to be fooled into thinking anywhere or anyone could be all rainbows and bunny rabbits, and friends were only there to drag her down. The horror and pain had become who she was and South Rainbow was the worst nightmare she could have faced.
She had lived in this so-called paradise for two years without making a friend or even raising a smile in anything other than a smirk at others' discomfort when faced with her strangeness and darkness. The moment her parents heared the great news, they had changed instantly from the pitiful, sorry sights she enjoyed outwitting and taking advantage of to happy, patronising, smiling lovers, who spent their time kissing and hugging eachother and attempting the same with her. She hated them sometimes- couldn't they see none of her problems had gone away? Still, she loathed the thought of becoming another happy, fashionable, stupid little brat who skipped and laughed and generally made a fool of herself in public.
These are two things Laura Meriweather Jones was not. Her house was directly behind the tiny cemetary, where every tombstone was polished and beautiful, decorated with multicoloured flowers and bright green grass. It was a mockery of what cemetaries should be like, she reflected as she stared through her bedroom window, deep in contemplation. Real cemetaries didn't have beauty or loveliness. They were a symbol of the suffering the dead had gone through in their lives, following orders and never actually doing anything worthwhile with their wretched selves. No one in the South Rainbow gave a second thought to social structure, or ever bothered to consider changing the world. To Laura, being a normal child was like torture. Every piece of homework she had to do was like a two tonne weight on her shoulders, pushing on her brain and giving her a headache. She despised the girls in her class for being so prim and perfect, always doing their homework, sniggering and giggling like their brains had leaked out through their ears. She hated that teachers would be so patronising and helpful all the time. Each time they asked "could you help me with this, buttercup?" she'd gritt her teeth and grumble her way down the corridor, listening for the eventual crash as the books she was supposed to help with clattered to the floor.
Laura herself was the image of beauty; she had long, blonde, straight and flowing hair, and her skin was pale and smooth. Her eyes were a gentle green and large, yet her perfect red lips never seemed to smile in kindness or happiness. She was quietly brilliant, and could often be seen reading horror fiction in the corner of the playground while the rain was thick and heavy, shivering under the huge umbrella she carried to keep the scorching sun off her pale face. She would peer over the top of the book, looking up through the tops of her eyes, whenever a small child would approach to mock her with their stupidity and helpfulness. She had never played their idiotic games and never made friends or even acquaintances of any of them, and never would. The only game she enjoyed was chess, and that was only because she was so good at it. Her teachers would call it a gift, but she called it a need to destroy her enemies in battle. She despised the fashionistas and gossipers, and would enjoy endless days torturing them by telling them she had read in a magazine that Cheryl Cole had been spotted nearby, wearing a bright pink wooly hat on her head and fluffy orange legwarmers. Out of devotion, they would inform everyone and take to the streets searching for her obediently wearing their bobble hats and legwarmers. She would snigger, looking up from her horror fiction, at the large group of ridiculous girls buying Cheryl Cole t-shirts and bright pink bobble hats, only to realise they had wasted a month's pocket money on "we love you, Cheryl" banners and new clothes.
Once people heared about her (since no one in the real world seemed to get to know anyone before asking around what exactly they were getting themselves into), they would know she was a thoroughly dislikable, dark, and pompous emo with nothing better to do than bury herself in horror fiction when there was a world of beauty all around her. Laura had lived in the cities, living amongst horrible, dislikable, ugly bullying children until her tenth birthday, when her parents had found a winning lottery ticket and moved to a "better place". There, she had been the small nerdy, snotty little girl the others enjoyed pushing into walls on their way past in the corridors and laughing at her. She had submerged herself in horror fiction to prevent her mind from exploding from the pain being excluded from youth society, and the harsh reality of life stuck her like a fist. None of these feelings left her when they moved, and suddenly she was the scary, mysterious one. She was not going to be fooled into thinking anywhere or anyone could be all rainbows and bunny rabbits, and friends were only there to drag her down. The horror and pain had become who she was and South Rainbow was the worst nightmare she could have faced.
She had lived in this so-called paradise for two years without making a friend or even raising a smile in anything other than a smirk at others' discomfort when faced with her strangeness and darkness. The moment her parents heared the great news, they had changed instantly from the pitiful, sorry sights she enjoyed outwitting and taking advantage of to happy, patronising, smiling lovers, who spent their time kissing and hugging eachother and attempting the same with her. She hated them sometimes- couldn't they see none of her problems had gone away? Still, she loathed the thought of becoming another happy, fashionable, stupid little brat who skipped and laughed and generally made a fool of herself in public.
No comments:
Post a Comment