murdrum_doyle: (fiction)
[community profile] daily_prompt #535 "Another child is born, Another race is won, Another dream is shattered, Another day has begun -This World; Zero 7"
[community profile] dailyprompt Prompt for 2011-12-21 "When the time comes"
[community profile] dailyprompt Prompt for 2011-12-22 "What really matters"
[community profile] dailyprompt Prompt for 2011-12-20 "Secret Santa"
--Sam confronts Pauly about weird behavior
"Look, princess," Sam snapped as she kicked her locker shut. "I'm on to you. I'm this," she gestured with her index finger and thumb, "This close to finding you out. And when I do, you can be sure that your sparkling reputation will be beyond repair."

Paulina scowled at Sam, disdain oozing out of every perfect pore. "You have no idea what you're talking about, freak."

Countering with a smirk, Sam said, "You rigged the box so that I'd be your Covert Commencement partner. So I did a little digging to figure out what to get," --Paulina paled-- "And nobody would ever think to guess what I found out instead. At least," she added in a superior fashion, "they won't until I tell them."

"You little b--"

"But I might be persuaded to forget your little secret if you do just one little thing for me--quid pro quo, see."

Paulina growled. "And what would that be?"

"Leave Dan--I mean, Phantom--alone."

"Not in your wildest dreams, you psycho!"

"Well then, I suppose that I'll just have to make a few calls to the school paper."

"As if. Maybe you just don't understand because he would never give someone as plain as you the time of day, but nothing is worth giving up Phantom."

"Not even jail?"

A pause. "What are you talking about?"

Sam hesitated, completely thrown. "What are you talking about?"

Paulina looked, not uncharacteristically, confused. "The threads, what else?"

Oldies slang, really? Really, Paulina? The hippie headbands were one thing, but there are lines. "Yes, the threads, duds, whatevers. That's what I'm talking about. And you don't seem to know that it's illegal."

"It's not like I put them there! I can just see them--wait a minute. If you know about them, then that means you can see them, too."

"Right," Sam said dryly. "Because I've been following you."

"No, like, no one else can see the threads, like the one that's tied to me and you. It's beyond, like, gross." Sam stared. Rich kids did drugs too, this Sam knew, and they did them hard. But other than the insanity spilling from those waxy, flamingo pink lips, Paulina exhibited no other signs of being high. If only, eh? And Coach Tetslaff only a shout away, at that.

"And. . . What do these threads look like?"

"You said you could see them!"

". . . I think we're on a different subject entirely."

"Oh. Well, whatever, freak. You better not tell anyone about this, comprende?" She turned to leave, flipping her hair in a manner that somehow seemed as disrepectful as flipping the middle finger, although phenomonally more lady-like.

"Wait! Pri-Paulina!" Paulina stopped, glaring with suspicious blue eyes.

"What?" she spat.

"Look, if you're really, seriously in trouble. . . I know people who can help." Blasted sense of rightousness.

Paulina, who had been in the midst of a retort, suddenly stilled. "Phantom" she whispered.

"Um," Sam said, completely weirded out.

Paulina looked around, curls bouncing and the fluffiest, most love stricken expression contorted her face, an expression which sam never wanted pointed in her direction again. Ever. "Phantom!" Paulina said, loud and giggly. "If anyone can save me, it's him!"

"It depends on what the problem is. What's going on?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because I'm dating Danny Fenton, and you know how Phantom always. . ."

"Shows up around Fenton! Oh!!" And then she was silent.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not?"

"Of course not. Just tell phantom to meet me at my house. Anytime. He'll know where." Sam chose not to comment. Paulina, superior smirk back in place, turned to leave once more.

Desperate for more information, Sam hurriedly spoke, stopping her enemy in her tracks, "Uh, I dont think so. Either you tell me, or no Phantom. Thats the deal, chica."

Scowling and fists balled, Paulina sent Sam the filthiest glare that she could muster. "Fine," she said. "But put the bench in front of the door, first. I don't want anyone walking in and seeing me talking to you." Privately, Sam thought that blockading the door would appear even more suspicious, but she was not about to say anything.

Grasping the splintery object and careful not to touch any discarded wads of gum, she silently complied with Paulina's demand. Deed done, she dusted off her hands, plopped upon the newly arranged bench and reclined, forcing Paulina to remain standing.

After a considerable amount of disgust and hesitation, Paulina tells her about the threads--
Asks her if she could tell DP, since he follows Danny and Sam is around Danny. . . yeah--
Sam says that she will, but doesn't until much, much later in the story--
Describes different threads, but doesn't understand what they mean--
Sam wonders why her thread is thinner than those of married couples--
Paulina flippantly asks why it even matters, because in a few months they will be off in college and there will be plenty of new, better guys to find--
She then reminds Sam to tell DP and exits, leaving Sam reeling--

murdrum_doyle: (school)

[community profile] daily_prompt Prompt #430: The Chosen

Every college acceptance letter shoved in my mailbox bore some generic congratulations: ". . . You are among the select few. . ." ". . . accomplishments merit acceptance into our family" ". . . we CHOOSE YOU to join our class of 2014. . ."

Dear Colleges:

Who the fish do you think I am, Pikachu? You picked me? Oh, no, no, no, no-No. I chose you. What right has a school--an establishment contingent upon student attendance--to mandate who is and who is not worthy? I sent my repertoire to you. I knew that you would accept me, and then I would chose from you.

Colleges were established to educate those individuals interested in higher learning, not to discriminate between who deserves your mascot on his or her résumé.  How dare you the audacity of assuming that I serve you, you who walks crippled without my tuition and alumna donations?

Some of you hide behind the excuse of research to fuel your elitism--and all the more woe to those who do not. For what good are you if my professor doesn't even have the intention of earning his doctorate?

And don't deny it: some of you set your tuition and fees according to the rank and reach of your prestige. So now even America allows birth circumstances to dictate who steps foot in the future ruling class?

Higher education, straighten your priorities. Students don't exist to inflate your grandeur, you exist to make your students shine.
murdrum_doyle: (life)
And this is life.

I don't know.

I really think that there is something wrong with me-something lurking that I'm scared to unleash.

I'm so scared of it, so ashamed of it, so ignorant about its nature. . . all I can do is ignore it.


murdrum_doyle: (Default)

September 2013

123 4567


RSS Atom

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 12:15 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios