Dirty little Secret

Hey, internet!

Sorry that I didn’t update during the holidays, but Granny doesn’t have a computer. She wouldn’t need it herself and she’s right when she says that Dad and me need to “unplug” a little whenever we visit her. So I only had my cellphone and while I could have updated via email or cell phone browser, I was a) too lazy to type long entries on the small keyboard and b) didn’t want to deny Granny a little Fiona time for the time being. Also, c) nothing really happened, but it’s not as if that has ever stopped me before, right?

So yeah, you might have noticed that I don’t sound as emo-y as I did last week, right? Well, I decided to be less mopey and everything. No one accused me for being a horrible person yet, I didn’t get harassed at school yet and my family still loves me. I’ll be fine.

Oh, also! I got my cell phone back from the police! And the blog is deleted from my bookmarks there. I wish I could ask Berry or Officer if Brute did that but… yeah.

Now the reason for me not updating right away yesterday. Guess who called me as soon as I got home? Yep, that’s right – Story!<3

It was a lucky coincidence that he called right when I entered the door. But there are some exciting news. Only you won’t be able to be excited because I can’t tell them to you yet. That’s right, we have a secret now. Everything else in the title is lies and slender though, it’s neither dirty nor little – I just like the song. You will learn on Sunday, depending on how everything turns out.

Apart from the secret we talked about everything and nothing until we had to go to sleep. I was really tired from the travel back already, so I just flopped on my bed and fell asleep. But checking my views today, I saw that nobody cared anyway, so I only feel guilty a very little bit. Maybe it’s understandable after my last blogpost though… (The few views I mean.)

Also, I want to finally thank my second fabulous person. Hey Her, welcome to the fabulous side of life, thankyousomuchImightloveyoualittlebitnow. Her blog is very fabulous, you should totally check it out: http://hernotepad.wordpress.com/

There is really not much more to tell you about. I still miss my friends, I still envy them for being friends with each other, I still have my guilt episodes about Brute. But it’s getting more okay by the day. And I don’t want to constantly mope at you – especially not now that I have to look good in the eyes of my new Fabulous Person!

I have to get back to scribbling stuff now. Important, secret stuff, hehe. You will see it later – gosh I am so giddy about it!<3

Goodnight now, internet!

PS: Fabulous Score – 4. Damn, I have to step up a little, haven’t I? ;P

PPS: 5 now!

Almost there

Only tomorrow left. No more school then until Monday.

I won’t lie. I feel… horrible. I am ashamed for what I’ve done, or rather, for what I didn’t do, which is reply to my friends’ emails. Why didn’t I do that? What in the world made me feel so special that I thought I could just ignore their messages?

I don’t know. I just know that I feel incredibly bad for that now. It’s like heartache. Or even worse. When a guy rejected me, at least I had friends who built me up again. Comforted me with ice cream and visits to the cinema and sleepovers and pillow fights. I miss all of that so much. I miss my girls. I miss them.

It wouldn’t be as bad if I didn’t have to see them all the time at school, being together at all times. They don’t pick on me or anything. But I don’t know if the cold ignorance they show towards me isn’t even worse. If they’d tease me, at least they’d be acknowledging me. But they don’t. Like, at all. I seem to be thin air around them. I was so much more to them for so long, how can I just suddenly be nothing?

I feel as if I’ve become invisible, as if I actually didn’t exist at all.

Except for Story.

School time still has a kind of surreal feeling to it. Because everything seems to be upside down all of a sudden. My friends ignore me, but Story now dares to approach me more often. And why should I reject that, now that I have lost everything I’d have to lose anyway? Instead, I try to smile for him a little bit, to help him through his problems.

He doesn’t even know that he keeps me going, I guess. But he does. For everyone else, I was that popular girl and now I am nothing. For him, I begin to hope that I always was and always will be… Fiona.

It’s kind of my own fault for deluding everyone, isn’t it? Actually, I’m not even sure if the Fiona that Story knows is the real one anymore. Maybe it’s just another facade I wasn’t even aware of.

And you probably have no idea what I’m talking about half the time, poor internet.

When I was little, the grown-ups would always tell me that I had a special gift. Dad called it “Fionamancy”. It’s basically simply that I got along with people very well – especially with adults. I just knew how they wanted a child to be. Cute, nice, quiet and sweet. So when I was bouncing around in my pink little dresses with blond little pigtails and big green eyes, beaming at them like a content kitty, they simply adored me and went out of their way to do whatever I liked.

This knack for people just stuck. I still have it. I meet another person and after talking for a while, looking at that person and everything, I just figure them out somehow. At least a bit. Enough to know what parts of me that person will like and dislike, and to behave accordingly. I never went really far with it, not further than… well, okay, not any further than getting into the clique of popular girls. But I tried to never abuse it. Because that’s what someone else did who I once… knew, and I learned from their mistakes.

There. I told it to someone. I never did that before.

And I don’t know if it feels good yet. Or if it was a good decision.

Getting people’s affection easily has its downside. I never know if they really like me, or just… who I pretend to be. It is not quite lying because… I don’t really lie. Lying and direct pretending don’t work for some reason. Strange, huh? I had a phase when I did that to be one of the cool kids, and it ended in a pretty bad crash landing. But just filtering yourself, shutting up about certain parts of yourself, and instead emphasizing the parts that people approve of more – that works. Because you’re still honest about the parts that you show. Just… not absolutely faithful to the truth.

I feel ashamed for it. Honestly. I sometimes feel as if it was an evil superpower and I wasn’t supposed to use it. But it’s actually the one and only thing I really can. I’m neither an artist nor an athlete, and certainly not a genius. All I really do is feel and understand feelings. If I didn’t use this one ability… I would just be nothing. Nothing at all, not even Story’s new best friend.

It’s not entirely bad, you know? I can determine well when people need to talk about something. I’m good at listening to them. I kind of have a knack for giving them advice. I know it reads like an excuse. But that’s because I feel a little bit bad now, before the eyes of the only… people I trust and open up to.

I’ll just post it now, though. This is kind of what I wanted from the very beginning. And if everything goes wrong, I can still delete this and go on with my life.

Please don’t hate me, internet.

Bye.

Gotta get down on Friday

Hey, internet.

Sorry that I didn’t post recently but I really, I mean really wasn’t in the mood. Let me tell you why.

I had another nightmare on Friday. I couldn’t remember any of it though, just that I woke up with a racing heart and sweating. So I woke up at, like, 5 AM or so. First I took a shower to calm down, but afterwards I still felt wide awake, so I decided to be a good little girl and say thank you to my Dad for being so nice to me on Monday. I made breakfast and got all ready for a change so we could have breakfast together.

The problem about that is that usually we only eat breakfast together when I go to school. Even then rather rarely, but whenever Dad can afford to. So, right when he came into the room and saw me sitting on the table, pouring him some fresh coffee – I could see he got the gesture all wrong.

“So you’re going to school again?”, he asked, his eyes lighting up. And when I saw him standing there, all hopeful and happy, I just couldn’t say no anymore. I just nodded instead, and since he had to leave early enough for me to have some time left, I packed my backpack then and went to school.

It all went downhill from there. I was too late a little bit and the teacher is a strict one, so she gave me a warning (“One more time and it’s detention, Phoebe, you can’t just go and decide for yourself when to attend school!” GRRRRRRRR!!!) and no one had brought over homework or told me what the others did at school so I was pretty clueless. And of course Ms Hatesme ignored all the raised hands in the room constantly to ask me every question first before she picked up on someone else! I mean, yeah – my friends have been sending me emails. But do you remember how I mentioned that they just don’t deem school very important? So, those emails are mostly “Why haven’t you been to Barbie’s party?” and such stuff. I didn’t even open the latest ones anymore.

So yeah, that gives me a perfect transition to my friends. After the horror that was geography, I just wanted to spend a nice lunch break with them. Well… I should have seen coming that I wouldn’t be able to.

I should have done a lot of things for that matter. Like replying to the emails and thinking of a good excuse for staying at home for a week. Because the girls were pissed at me. And by pissed, I mean they more or less kicked me out of the cafeteria single-handedly just by using words. I have never been humiliated so much before – and I can’t even say that I didn’t deserve it.

That I didn’t come to the parties… well, that’s one thing. I guess they would be okay with it if I just had given them a reason for me being absent for so long. They really were angry – at least they said that – because they worried about me but I didn’t tell them anything. Berry seems to have told them some bits and pieces. They knew about me having problems with someone and that someone not being well now. They didn’t seem to know about that someone being dead and the problems being stalking. They also didn’t know who it was I had problems with. But that doesn’t matter very much anymore anyway because they kicked me out of the clique – just like that.

I asked Berry later if she would help me to clarify things. But she just threw a glance made of pure disgust at me and said that she knew “about the note” and that I shouldn’t “act all innocent”. Also, that she’d do shit to pull me out of my own mess. And then she left me there, without any clue.

So yeah. I’ve lost everything. I’m not popular anymore, I don’t have a big circle of friends anymore. I can strike all the party-dates in my organizer, because none of the girls will let me in anywhere anyway. It’s simply over. I’ll have to sit this last year out. There’s no, heh, Fionamancy able to change that, no matter how hard I’d try – I just know.

I still haven’t gotten used to that thought.

I’m going to miss them all. Really – I mean it.

When I realized that there was nothing I could do anymore, I cried. A lot. I just hid away in the second lunch break and cried. I thought my eyes were dry after those past few days, but obviously they aren’t.

I really don’t want to go to school tomorrow. Or ever again for that matter.

There is someone I have to be there for though. Apart from my Dad, that is. Story is having a really rough time. Apparently, the police dropped the case already. It’s absolutely silly but they did. He called me up today and told me about it, being very angry and sad – Officer had just told his family. And no, Officer doesn’t know why, either. Obviously an order from above he can’t do anything about either, though.

Which reminds me of something I had brought up earlier: The note Berry mentioned. Story and me had a long talk about Brute’s death and Story told me that they found a note stapled to the bag in which his heart was. On the note was written “no means no!” in capital letters. With crossed out O’s. I don’t even know anymore.

We guessed around a bit, but that note is probably the reason for me being so suspicious to the police. Officer had told Story about it (it sounded like they had rather close contact this week anyway) but no one mentioned it towards me so talking about it would have confirmed my guilt for them. Since the case is dropped now anyway, I guess Story felt it was okay to talk to me about it.

Apart from that he said that Officer believes in my innocence. And he trusts Officer.

That kind of got me going again, although it’s still not quite good news. I wish I could just… actually do something. Anything. Cast a spell which would revive Brute or so to solve all our problems. Well, okay, not the friend problem, but being quite honest, for me it might be a major and horrible thing. But it’s actually nothing. I still have Dad – Story lost his brother and friend. Yeah, obviously they were more or less each other’s only real close friends apart from their books, shows and movies. It might sound arrogant when I say: Go me, I really fucked up big time there. But the thing is that I just know what I am. And that note and Brute’s blogpost… What else am I supposed to think than that I am at least connected to his death somehow?

If not even responsible for it.

Well… Story will start going to school again tomorrow. And he asked if I’ll be there, in that tone that sounded as if he was begging for help. So I will be there, of course.

It’s all I can do, really. I wish it would be more. I’m so sorry, Story.

So… time to stop avoiding my bed and to go to sleep. Goodnight internet.

Come over to the Dork Side…

Aw, internet…

Did I fail you so much, not posting for three days? I’m sorry. Heh, well, my blog was just getting so many views (9, for me that’s like a million!) because it was still new and therefore fancy, most likely. I’m sorry that I didn’t post for three days. I just had things to ponder.

See, I really pondered showing my real life friends this blog. To just give them access to it and delete the few things they shouldn’t know. I’m a bit afraid of them finding out another way, and then… picking on me because of things I’d say, thinking that nobody would listen who knows me.

But these things need to be said. Or rather – I need to tell them. Somewhere. Someone. I can’t tell my real friends though, and I’ll explain in a minute why. And a diary… That would not help. I need to know someone is actually receiving what I “send out”. This one subscriber I have right now (hello fabulous person! I’m talking about you!) is kind of what actually helps me and what made me decide to use this blog like I originally intended to. Because out there, somewhere, someone listens to me, to the parts of me my friends don’t know. And although I don’t have any extremly rare and tragic things to tell, I need to talk to someone about what’s going on in my mind. The risk is not too high… My friends are mostly interested in facebook and the blogs they actually tell each other about. Not in random blogs on the internet. But still I check the Dashboard at least twice per day now, just to be able to delete all that stuff in here if it’s necessary. Don’t worry then. You now know why.

So: Fresh from the mind of The Fabulous Fiona – STUFF!

First the reason for me not being able to be totally open to my friends: I’m kind of one of the popular girls at my school. No, we’re not quite as bitchy as the popular girls frequently shown on TV or in movies. Actually, the girls at my school are quite a nice bunch, albeit still a little bit like that stereotype. Meaning that they try to keep up with trends very hard and value fashion. They prefer expensive brands and they go out of their way to be pretty. Marks don’t matter that much to them, their only real passions at school are cheerleading and gossiping. And while they don’t actively harass people they don’t like, they carefully and accurately exclude those persons from everything cool they can influence, to not let that person drag the coolness-meter down. It’s not always good form what they do, but they don’t harm anyone. Yeah… I’m one of them. I don’t entirely fit in, though. My father doesn’t earn incredible amounts of money, so I can’t always afford the trendiest stuff – I have to skip the trend or get the cheaper copies of the original products. I actually care for some of my classes, like German, so my marks there are quite good. But still they accept me, like me even. I’ve got a good sense of fashion and developed the skill to find and combine affordable clothes and accessoires to nice and trendy outfits. They even use me as a reference everytime they complain about people who say they don’t have the money to be fashionable.

But it’s kind of exhausting sometimes. And I always know that I’m not allowed to slip in any way. I can stretch their affection to a certain extent, but it’s still possible to overuse it and become one of the not popular people. And I don’t want that to happen, because I’m actually quite grateful for my position. Nobody picks on me. Everybody envies me. A lot of the boys see me as a definite dating option. A lot of the girls see me as the dream of a usual girl becoming popular come true. All of this is nice and I am willing to work for that – and also to shut up. I don’t tell my friends that I find German very fascinating and that I’d sometimes love to write in my free time instead of going to the mall. I don’t tell my friends that I sometimes would rather spend my money on some nice, like, books or CDs, than on new clothes and the expensive café they love so much. And I definitely don’t tell them that I have a soft spot for Nerds and can relate to them quite well.

I’d love to join their chatting when they talk about their crushes. About who asked them out and who they want to ask them out. But I can’t, because my crush is the greatest nerd at school. He doesn’t know that I understand the big “42” on his favorite shirt and that I’d love to watch that Star Wars movie at least once. Or those movies (I heard there was more than just one…). I can’t even walk up to him and use a petty excuse to get into a conversation with him. Because if my friends knew, they would probably laugh so hard at me that they’d have to change their pants afterwards.

I said I’d censor all the names, and I do. So I’ll call him Story. He’s very quiet and very pale, and he can’t be in a conversation for long without cracking jokes related to some obscure fandom nobody knows, but I can’t help but be impressed by how he remembers all of those quotes. Every word of them. His glasses make him a poster boy for the nerd stereotype, but… there’s something about him that makes me think he’s not only shy and dorky, but also quite intelligent. And he loves German and everything about Germany. His name sounds a bit European and he can roll the R, so maybe his heritage has something to do with it. I always get goosebumps when I hear him talk in that language at school. It’s the only subject he actually gets active in.

Aaaaaand I’m sounding like a lovestruck little teenage girl, but actually I have the right to, because I am a lovestruck little teenage girl! And it feels good to finally talk about this. Especially because I’m going to visit Story at his home tomorrow. But – that’s a story (heh) I save for tomorrow or the day after, together with how it happened.

Thank you, internet. When I started writing this, I felt kind of down, but now my mood is really good. It helps to talk about this!

Good Night now, internet.