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TEOSB: Three
The eyes of someone blue: Three"I need protection." The host smiled and announced, “Please enjoy your stay with Mr. Anderson. Now David, will you show her the way to the limousine?” David let out a huge sigh when the cameras turned off. I was more or less feeling, very, very, suicidal. "This is preposterous!" I hollered. “Uh huh,” he agreed. “I’m sorry but you're confusing me here," he raised an eyebrow, "Are you in hyper mode now that I can’t even tell apart whether you’re happy or just immensely depressed?” “Impossible.” Did Dad sell me to the show? I ran out the building hopelessly, finding a place to entomb my misery. But the press - the worst of all irritancy - stopped me. “Marie, how does it feel being the winner of A.C.?” “Marie, how are you gonna spend your week with Mr. Anderson?” “Marie, it is possible for you to give an inside scoop on your plans this week?” “Marie, please let us take a picture of you!” they begged. I protested. How dare they invade my privacy? The reporters zoomed into my face and blinded me with hundreds of flashes. Until David jostled himself as he pulled me along with him. My heartbeat - I could hear them thudding in my ears loudly. "It's so loud," I said breathlessly with his arms supporting my body weight. He stared at me with a 'huh?' face. He couldn't hear them, so I had to speak louder, "It's so loud!" I repeated. He nodded awkwardly, and had a growling feature in his eyes that scared the reporters away. Everything around me revolved like a slow-motion movie. He carried me into the limousine, and he urged the driver with much agitation, "Antoine Hospital – quick!" His eyes grew more anxious now. As if he truly cared. His hands in my locks were brushing them while he was comforting me with his 'It's okay's. And I believed him. - - - The light sprung onto my vision. My eyes clicked several more times to get a still picture. “It’s okay. No one will dare to harm you again,” it was Dad. He hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. The warmth was spreading to my cold, pale skin. I finally could see now. And there was no David. Only a man full of anxiety, and sorrow. His face wrinkled as I brushed them gently. I made them. His wrinkles were entirely my fault, but I didn't feel guilty, not a single bit. - - - "Taxi!" I screamed for the vehicles that swift by me. "Where are you going?!" Dad locked me down as he paced from behind. "Home," I folded my arms - holding back the shiver. "Why don't you just follow me? The car's right there," he advised. It was the worst advice ever. What makes him think I would want follow him? "I'll take the taxi," I ignored, and quickly dumped my belongings into the taxi car that reached me. "31 West Street, next to Murray High," I demanded strictly, "Move." I looked at the man holding his brown, leather coat. I got tired of his little frown on his forehead. He tried to help me. But I don't need any help. I just need some protection. - - - I unstrapped myself from my sling bag and threw it across the room - dumping myself onto the ground as I saw my telephone blinking. I played the offline call. It was none other than Sarah. "Hey, I'm sorry I got you into the show, but you need it, Marie. You will be better this way, I promise," she paused, "I guess I'll see you on Monday with David, your Dad says I should go along with you guys to make sure that you'll come home safe. Bye." I sighed devastatingly. Some protection. This wasn't what I deserved. I deserved better than better. I guess safety comes with a price, doesn't it? - - - DAY ONE: MONDAY. Morning came as if the rabbit finished the race. I tried to battle time and splinted at the alarm clock repeatedly. I lost. Time won. The sunshine showered through my cozy, violet room; finally leeching total darkness by 7 a.m. My legs itself felt as if they were one hundred pounds. I barely had enough sleep to hide those glowing eyes of mine. The glowing eyes - those were in exchange of eye bags normal people have. Now, you should understand why I am not categorized under the group “normal”. Normal is just a comfort adjective that some bullshit people pull off to make me feel better. Too bad I’m nothing but a disgrace to them. I stared into the mirror after I splashed my face to wipe off my morning slur. Falling deep into comatose, I believed there was nothing I could do to make myself look better. The locks of my dark chocolate hair shaded were as wild as ever. They wouldn’t stay in place after my historic event of zero-hour sleep last night. Well, it became a necessity when I wished not to spend my time with Mr. Anderson. It did sound like a good idea ten hours ago, but seems like my mind wasn’t working well even then. I’m such a dullard. And only a bore like me would rather stay home and stick their feet to the ground. Unless someone drags me to the door, ropes around my neck, and pulls me all the way to New York to meet David, maybe I’ll reconsider and make life much easier for Dad, and Sarah. Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t give a damn. “What in the world are you still doing here? You’re supposed to be in a plane with David right now!” Sarah budged in with added dramatic effect, surprised to see me in still snoozed. She, who looked good in the lavender halter-neck dress, looked at me in disgust. Sarah shook her head and turned around to make an urgent call. I shrieked out an intimidated face while I overheard her talking, “Anderson Residence? Can you put the lovely David on the phone, please? It’s an emergency.” They talked and talked as I waited for her to finish so she could help me get my lazy butt off the bed. “Great,” Sarah turned around with a wide grin plastered on her face, “He’s sending a private jet over in ten minutes, so I’ll have you ready by then.” “Great,” I said in displease. Sarah instructed me to leave my little island. Meanwhile, she readied some scrambled some eggs for breakfast. I managed to shove everything down my throat in five minutes, and the other five was for me to look as ravishing as possible. That was completely quoted by her, if you were wondering. While I took a one minute shower, Sarah on the other hand, raided my closet and picked out a Brandeis Blue sleeveless blouse with a ruffled ribbon in front, a black denim skirt, and a pair of Jimmy Choo Brandeis Blue ballerina flats to go with it. Then, it was time for the primping. “My, my. You did a splendid job, Sarah,” Dad patted her right shoulder. “How does it even look satisfying? I look twice my age!” I argued. “Don’t you know? Men like older women,” Dad whispered. Mom is in her late forties, while Dad’s not even near forty. That’s all I’m saying. I can spare no more T.H.S stories of men liking older women. It’s creepy. “Oh, stop complaining already. You don’t look that bad. In fact, you look quite spectacular. You should wear skirts and dresses more often,” Sarah coughed, “Jeans and T’s don’t exactly suit you.” I thought she was fawning me, but then, it isn’t actually fawning when she just insulted my personal style in which I owned since grade school. “Since when was I forced to obey the fashion police?” I hissed. Sarah sneered at me, turning my blood pressure on high as she walked like a prig out the door. Meanwhile, an accelerated fan-like movement was heard from where I was standing. Must be that one and only. - - - The perfect sight of Dad without me was easy to picture. Maybe this was meant to be after all – me away from home and off with another man. Can you believe it? I actually agreed to this nonsense. And the reason for it may have something to do forgiving Dad. Certainly, this forgiveness does not involve the feud between mother and him, but the one where he somehow sabotaged a programme to have me win and claim a worthless prize. The posh family brought in a King Air 200 jet which landed on the front yard seconds later. That sure caught a lot of attention despite my warning of “PLEASE DO NOT BRING IN SOMETHING THAT WOULD GIVE THIS NEIGHBOURHOOD A HEART ATTACK. THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. ANDERSON,” I added before Sarah ended the call. Didn’t know why I called him by his last name. He sounds less-attractive and older that way. David was at the pilot’s seat, bidding farewell to the reporters. He can fly a plane? Bullshit. I bet it’s a requirement for exhibitionists. No kidding. “I am not getting on this jet if he’s flying it,” I moaned while Sarah rattled when she saw how racy the interior was. I know. I sound like a spoiled brat. “Don’t worry. I got my license last year. I aced it,” David wagged his eyebrows when he was trying to boast off his degree. I snorted. “Your ace will be futile if you crash this damn jet, sucker,” I spoiled his crowing moment and regretted saying it after. Well, I did owe him an apology and a huge thank you signboard for yesterday. And for the car ride, and the settled medical bills, and the college funds Dad struggled with. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But I do want to enjoy this flight on a King Air 200. I bit my lip, having second thoughts minutes later. “You don’t want to waste time now, do you? You’ve got to see New York, you’ll gonna love it,” David stretched out a hand and lifted me up to the seat next to him. “Don’t touch me,” I warned, and shook off his grip on his arm. Fine, I admit it. I’m paranoid around the opposite sex, okay? I don’t like them touching me - not my arm, face, hands, not anywhere. Unless I’m allowed to file molestation reports, then I’m alright. Sarah pulled my arm and had me bend over to listen to her murmur, “What are you doing? If he wants to touch you, let him. Don’t loose him, okay?!” I shot a series of disgusted looks at her. “Okay, okay,” he raised his hands and surrendered; “I was just being nice,” David beefed and started steering. - - - The view was breathtaking. I could see everything from up here. The sky-high buildings, monuments, storehouses, libraries, museums, houses, schools, everything. I couldn’t help but grin, until David made me lose the optimism. “I’m sorry to say this but, what on earth are you wearing? You look ridiculous,” he simpered, but he seemed to look serious at the same time, “You too, Sarah.” Sarah had an ‘ouch’ expression while I shot a menacing glare at her. “I didn’t pick out these clothes for me,” I muttered, trying to not distract him, “Guess who did.” David giggled. “Her?” he stuttered a little. “Excuse me, Mister. These shoes are worth fifty bucks, so don’t judge me,” Sarah attacked from behind, “And as a Utah citizen, these clothes are totally hot.” “But not for New Yorkers,” he sneered, feeling Sarah’s wrath. “Okay, is it just me, or are you feeling racism here?” I felt insulted by his discrimination. He can’t do that – not on my watch. David raised an eyebrow. “What part of racism has got to do with this? We’re all white people – American white people,” he tried to settle it. “Racist,” Sarah hummed and poised around the lobby. David shook his head and shot a delightful smile at me, showing his perfect set of white teeth. “You look tired. You should take a nap first,” he advised, “We’ll be arriving in twelve hours.” - - - "Ow!” I bumped my head on the car ceiling, and was distressed to find a large bruise on it. “Morning, sunshine,” David greeted and simpered. I awake on his left shoulder. How did I end up in his limousine? I pulled away immediately and swiveled around to scan for the girl with auburn hair. “Sarah’s taking the taxi,” he said as if he read my mind, and my face changed from expression wary to aghast, “– if you don’t mind.” Can’t he get any more foolish? Of course I mind! “Why did she leave me here?” I yelled at him, while he blenched. “Cause there’s not enough space for three people,” David answered truthfully. “It’s a limousine for God’s sake! LI-MOU-SINE!” I pronounced the word, syllable by syllable in squall manner, “Did you fit in some gorilla family?!” I looked what was behind and saw . . . “Oh,” I expressed in an awkward tone. “These boxes contain all kinds of cocktail dresses for the party tonight,” David announced, “I had my assistants collect them from Donatella Versace who happens to be a close family-friend. I was surprised she was willing enough to spare them." His eyes started complimenting himself, “After all, I did mention they are for two lovely ladies.” David smiled. I couldn’t resist it. To hate or to love him. I just couldn’t choose one. “You’re unbelievable,” it was the nicest thing I could’ve said. And if you haven’t noticed yet, it’s a hard task for me to compliment. It’s not my thing, surely. “Yeah, thanks. I get that a lot. But mostly in a bad way though,” David frowned. I would have added, “But didn’t I just say that to offend you?” But I guess it’s better off if he thought it was a compliment. He better not piss me off. “Oh, we’re here,” David – who wasn’t in glamour mode yet, and was still in his casual clothes. But for me, his casual is still very posh – missed the chance to open the door for me. “I can help myself, you know,” I replied to his thoughtful actions, “It’s not like I don’t have the strength to do it.” “Well, it’s a gentleman’s tradition to do tasks like this for a pretty young woman. It’s compulsory in our books,” he flattered, and traced my face for an expression which is: expression nothing. “Whatever,” I took out my baggage from the boot and strode inside the palace-like hotel. Just what I expected. Fancy people, fancy stuff, all put together in this kingdom of little Blackberries, multifunctional iPods, Mac Books, and more. “Um, I’ll see you later, okay?” David grinned, “And welcome to New York City.” - - - “So, which one should I choose? I’m tied between the amethyst and the silky lavender with the indigo strap,” Sarah walked out of the hotel rest room and held up to two pieces in front of me. “I say this one,” I pulled out a metallic jade evening dress and handed it over, “You make the call,” I said gloomily. “Oh my god, you just made it worst for me!” she complained, “Anyway, what are you wearing? I can’t believe you’re done!” Sarah was stunned. “Uh, actually Sarah . . . I’m not going,” I fake-coughed while she shot me a sudden glare. “Look at me! I’m exhausted, I want sleep, and I need a bed.” “Please. Don’t do this for me, do this for yourself. You know it’s good to have fun once in a while,” she persuaded. I was convinced. “That’s a good-enough reason,” I said positively. Maybe this would help knock away depressed attitude after all. “I hope you’re right. Anyway, you owe me one,” I stood up from the sofa, “But there’s not enough time, David should be waiting for us in the lobby right now.” There was a cough tickling my ear. “I’m here. What is taking you girls so long?” David approached behind me. How did he get here so fast? I didn’t hear him come in through the door! Apparently, we have been fooled. I'm sure he hoped for a peek of us changing into our dresses. Hah! No such luck. We’re not even dressed yet. His face turned sour when I mouthed the word pervert at him. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?” David faced me now, while Sarah paced in the other room to fit into the metallic green gown I chose for her. “Just give me a second.” I gave myself limited time to pick out the least attractive dress out of the humongous pile of designer gowns. “This one,” I grinned at the cerulean blue gown belted with ivory leather ribbon, “I’m sure it will look hideous on me. Just what I need – hideous.” “Correct me if I’m wrong, I thought most girls want to look beautiful at times like this. Or am I not in Earth anymore?” he added before I went into my room to change. “Well, see? That’s your mistake. I’m not like most girls,” I pointed out while I sped to prim myself up. “Okay, I’m done,” Sarah accomplished sucking in her stomach to fit in a runway size dress. “How do I look?” she searched for answers from David instead. He simply beckoned and said, “You look just fine, Sarah, can’t we go now? The party’s –” David paused and stared at me with his glistening green eyes. Sarah turned around and smiled at me. “I look really stupid, don’t I?” My reassurance was based on the silly faces they pulled at me. For god’s sake, I’m wearing a dress, no – even more, a gown. That must be the reason, right? I was certain that majority will win. But it didn’t. “Are you kidding me? You look amazing!” Sarah squealed and inserted a lemon chiffon lilac flower pin into my coiffure hair. As surprised as I am, flattery benefits me nothing but flutters in the stomach. “Yeah . . . amazing . . .” he agreed with a blush. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I quetched. Got to love the team spirit, right?! - - - “Hi there, why do you look so familiar? Have we met before?” a voice startled me. My head shifted up from the view of the Martini glass to a face I was unknown of. Days ago if a stranger walked up to me and said hello, I would have scarpered and gained some paranoia. But from this day forward, nothing will be the same nevermore. “No, we haven’t. Do you watch Amplified?” I asked with given clue. My fingers crossed for a no though. I didn’t need torture at one in the morning when my head is spinning like a killer roller coaster. His jaw dropped. “You’re that girl, aren’t you? What are you doing here? Did David take you here?” “You know what? I am that girl. And if you want a get-to-know-me session, too bad, the shop’s closed. Please do understand by all means necessary that you either stop the interrogating or leave me alone.” He fled. Such a coward. - - - Here I am with my legs fully-stretched on the ceramic-tiled restroom floor and my breath smelling of every kind of alcohol all put together. I have to admit. I’ve grown from miserable valley girl to the pretty fucked up missy. I tucked my hands in and found my cell phone to dial Mom’s number for the fifty seventh time. I need to hear her voice. A hello, at least, would do me great. The first beep - my heart trembled with excitement, then agitation. The second beep – tears shed on the spur of the moment. The third beep, and . . . nothing. Everything else after that seemed to vertiginously affect me. Must be the alcohol. Thank God it's finally working. I don't know which one I'm closer to. Sleep, or, permanent sleep. Can I opt for the second one? - - - David Anderson It’s funny when she’s at peace. She looks so calm and beautiful. It’s almost hard to believe this is the same girl who loves to get out of hand all the time. The taste of freedom can hurt, huh? When she’s awake, she’ll be perfect at tossing up this bad-ass chick. Unlike now, I’ve never seen anyone this alluring. She’s like a dream in the front of me. A dream I’m afraid to hold because when I do, she might disappear. Her hair was laid carefully to the pillow in which her dark ringlets were sprouting against them. I couldn’t resist running my hand down her pretty locks again and I was pretty tired to actually obey the restraining order. This all happened before I had found her behind the club banana bar restroom. The guests had all crashed down in hotel rooms when the time struck three in the morning. And I was the loony one who’s half-asleep yelling her name out loud. I pulled the door handle and found Marie at ease on the floor. She leaned her head on her right arm, her face turning red by the effects of an O.D for alcohol consumption, according to what I have examined. “Put me down . . .” Marie demanded groggily as I balanced her weight on my arms. After that, I guessed she fell asleep again. I watched her all night, and when I look at her, she was struggling and fighting back tears. But her face grew more intense and I couldn’t bear it, so I woke her up. “Its okay, Marie. It’s just a dream,” I comforted her while she’s at her best trying to talk with her panting and sobbing that grew even louder. “He took my mother away from me!” Marie said as if she was afraid. “Who did?” I couldn’t help but ask. Then, I reached out a hand and placed it on the corner of her face. Surprisingly, she let me. “My father . . . I have to stop him,” Marie explained as if she’s still in her bad dream. “It’s alright. Don’t worry, I’ll be here all night,” I told her. Now, Marie has snapped out of her awkward state and knocked my hand off her face. “No you’re not. Sarah is,” she replied, looking at me with suspicion. “Um . . . about that. Sarah left,” I stammered and prepared for the scream. So I talked before she could, “She left you this note. Sarah told me to this hand over before she left searching for you at the party.” Her face turned pale, literally. - - - Marie Belle Dear Marie, My heart skipped a beat or two, maybe three, even. She denoted her feelings clearly but I did not understand the least of what she meant by ‘Don’t worry about home; I’ve got it taken care of.’ How is she gonna do that? Hire a nanny to clean the mess I made? I hope she’s smarter than that. I really hope so. Labels: The eyes of someone blue |
About the Author
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended © 2009. Plagiarism is outlawed.I am Sandra Lau (blogger of sandralautzelin.blogspot.com). And I've been charged for passionately writing too many emotional and suspensive dramas. I live by my tacky metaphors and deep quotes, but hell yeah, I love 'em! Reviews means a lot to me, and criticism are most welcomed as well. About the Story
The Eyes of Someone BlueWho says darkness can't be lit up again? The prequel: Marie Belle goes through living hell daily and when she was delivered the worst news of her life - her mother's death, she finds it impossible to regain such a thing called happiness. Hence, her dad set her up on a television broadcast competition and therefore, she also won. Her prize? A stranger, and another who appears later - both likely to fall in love with her. But whoever said 'Don't talk to strangers' doesn't want you to make new friends. But they are only unknowns to her, but to the world, they are the kings of the music industry. Was it worth the fight? Maybe, maybe not. Starring: 1. Charles Belle (Joaquin Phoenix) 2. Chase Anderson 3. Clara Belle (Julianna Margulies) 4. Damon Anderson 5. David Anderson 6. Emma Rose (Katie Holmes/Cruise) 7. Lennea Parkers (Shantel VanSanten) 8. Lily Anderson (Cate Blanchet) 9. Marie Belle 10. Sarah Gabriels (Leighton Meester) 11. Trevor Parkman (Hayden Christensen) Click here to read: Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Reviews
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