Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Rosalie Backstory (For Carnival)

Rosalie.

~I imagine her to have the last name "Duncan."

Her parents weren't wealthy. Although, she tended to claim that they were. All her life she she wanted to be a big star. She used to dream of headlining her own show and traveling all around the world. She dreamed of falling madly in love with a rich somebody of some sort who worshiped the ground she walked on.

~I see her living on the outskirts of Boston (for some weird reason).

Her town was small and almost unheard of. It held little excitement. Because of this, she had high hopes and dreams of an exciting life outside of her small town.

~I imagine her father was in the war.

That he went off ready to fight for his country and only returned a shell of what he was. I imagine Rosalie losing touch with her father as a result of this.

~I imagine her mother was strict.

But I also imagine she loved Rosalie, an only child, very much. I think she tried to teach her all she knew. But most of all, she tried to teach her love. That despite all, you should stay strong for the sake of love. I think Rosalie's mother was young when she wed, and truly didn't love Rosalie's father. When it all came down to it, all she wanted was for Rosalie to have the happiness in her marriage that she never was able to experience in her own.

~That was when the Carnival came to town.

Things at home weren't great. Rosalie's mom gave her a little bit of money to go and see the carnival, and so she went as told. The carnival was all she imagined and more. It was different. It was exciting. It was what she had been looking for. She went off in search for something to see. I imagine her wandering around in awe; giggling at the stilt-walker, flinching at the snake charmer and gaping at the bearded lady.

~I imagine something catching her ear.

Shouting. yelling. Threats to leave the act. Rosalie, a curious 17 year old, crept over to an elaborate trailer labeled, 'Marco the Magnificent and the Lovely Lucinda!' in big bold lettering. She stood close to the door and waited.

"But Lucy..." A deep voice pleaded, "don't you see?"

"All i see are those beady little eyes and that devilish smile of yours. I'm through. WE'RE through. You can find yourself some other lovely assistant."

"Fine. Go on, Lucinda. They pay to see ME. And they'll pay to see me with anyone else."

The door slammed open and a thin blonde woman stormed her way out of the trailer.

"It's MOLLY, Marco. And I'm THROUGH changing who i am to fit YOUR needs."

Rosalie stood frozen for a few minutes while hiding behind the trailer and just out of view of Marco as he stood watching his ex-assistant stalk of.

~I imagine her eye catching the sign.

It was gold and royal blue, coated in glitter. She stared at it for a long moment before she felt the presence of somebody behind her.

"Are you coming to the show, Little Miss?"

She spun around to see none other than Marco himself and her cheeks reddened madly.

"Well...I...I...don't know." she mumbled quietly while wringing her hands together in insecurity.

"Have you ever seen a magic show?" he smiled invitingly and Rosalie scrunched her eyebrows together.

His smile doesn't SEEM devilish she found herself thinking.

"Well...no."

"Ahh... then you must stick around for the show."

"I might." She said trying to sound sure of herself in that brief moment.

Marco winked her way and left her then amongst the crowds of people.

She found that her heart was beating rapidly as she watched him walk away.

~I imagine her staying for the show.

Rosalie decided to stand towards the back of the crowd; her arms crossed and her eyes wide with wonder.

"Volunteers! Could i get a few volunteers?" He walked around the crowd choosing a few older women and a man. Just then he stopped at shy Rosalie. "Little Miss..." He breathed and offered his hand out for her.

Shaking, she took it and proceeded to follow him to the front of the crowd where the other volunteers waited. Magic trick after magic trick, Marco astounded the crowd and provoked applause after roaring applause.

When it came to Rosalie's turn, she smiled her widest smile with the determination to show the crowd, and especially Marco, that she wasn't just some insecure little girl.

"And you mademoiselle, what is your name?"

"Rosalie. Rosalie Duncan."

"Rosalie... What a... beautiful name."

She smiled a big smile and looked out towards the crowd while shifting her stance to have a more aligned posture.

"Such a beautiful name deserves a most beautiful flower, don't you think?"

She felt her heart skip a beat and she nodded her head.

With a flick of his wrist, a bright red rose appeared in his hand and he handed it to Rosalie who looked quite shocked herself at such an impressive, and yet very simple, trick.

"An incomparable rose for the incomparable Rosalie." He said before winking once again and escorting her back into the sea of people.

~I imagine she stayed after the show.

She was holding the rose tightly between her fingers and smelling it every so often.

Incomparable.... He called me incomparable.

"Little Miss?" Marco asked as he saw her standing alone by his trailer.

"Mr. Magnificent-"

"Please," he took her hand and gently kissed it. "call me Marco...."

"M-Marco..."

She stared deep into his glimmering eyes and found in them her reflection.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

"Very much so. It must be fun to travel everywhere with your very own act."

"It is. But you see, it can get... very lonely."

"But... you had your own partner to keep you company. Didn't you?"

"Lucinda. Yes. But Lucinda wasn't what i needed. She wasn't what i wanted. She couldn't command a stage the way a lovely assistant should... The way you did just now."

Rosalie found her cheeks getting hotter.

"You think so?"

"I know so Rosalie." he said while carefully taking both of her hands. "How would you like to be my new assistant? Travel the world... see beautiful things... be a start... all with me."

"Oh... well i don't know."

"You wouldn't regret it."

"I don't think i would.

"I promise."

Just then she realized how dark it was outside.

"I should be getting home."

"But the carnival isn't even over yet."

"My mother might worry."

"But not if you were in the company of a fine gentleman. And i AM a find gentleman... don't you think?"

"Oh, of course Mr. Marco."

"Why don't you join me in my trailer for a while. I can tell you stories from all around the world. We can eat a little food and drink a little wine. I can tell you of the things you would do if you so chose to be my lovely assistant."

"Incomparable."

"Pardon?"

she reached up to her hair and pulled the rose from her dark locks.

"You called me incomparable."

"Incomparable..." he repeated in deep concentration. "The Incomparable Rosalie."

Her name spoken on his lips sent her stomach to tie and twist up into knots.

"I like it. Nay, I love it. Marco the Magnificent and the Incomparable Rosalie! We would make such a great pair." His voice softened as his eyes bore deep into her own. "A truly... great pair."

~I imagine they didn't talk very long once in Marco's trailer.

Rosalie was so in awe of Marco. His every word, his every gesture and wink and smile.

The way he looked at her.

The way he spoke her name.

Rosalie... The Incomparable Rosalie....

She could barely think. She could hardly say no. And once all was said and done... she didn't regret a thing.

At least, she didn't think she did.

His kisses were unlike anything she'd every felt and through it all, Rosalie truly felt that she could love Marco.

She very well could.

As she gathered her things she blushed in insecurity at Marco who lay on his bed with a cigarette in hand and a melody humming from his lips.

"I'll be right back..." she mumbled.

"And I'll be right here, Rosalie." He smiled after blowing a puff of smoke up into the air. "I won't leave without you."

~I bet she ran home.

Her thoughts were spinning and while she didn't want to leave her mother, she knew she'd understand.

After all, hadn't she been the one who always told her to risk everything; to risk it all for love?

~I imagine her walking in the door of her house.

Her mother was asleep and her father as well. She ran up the stairs frantically. Her eyes darted around in a mad hunt for exactly what she'd need with her. Grabbing her matching set of blue suitcases, she threw in all she could think of. Make-up box. Curlers. Dresses. Hats. Jewelry. The suitcases looked jumbled and a mess, but she didn't care. She made her way down the stairs and found herself halted in the kitchen.

Fumbling through the drawers, she found a sheet of paper and a very dull pencil.

Mother and Father,

I went to risk it all for love.

One day you will see my name in bright lights.

Until then,

Rosalie

Carefully placing the paper on the sink counter, she left her childhood home feeling more of a woman than she'd ever felt before.

~It was strange, I think, for Rosalie to walk back into the carnival.

The lights illuminated the trailers and tents, and shadowed figures moved about. It took her only moments to find Mr. Marco's trailer. Once she knocked, a series of mumblings and fumblings occurred throughout the trailer until the door finally sprang open.

"You... You came back." He sounded out of breath and in mid-panic.

"And you stayed." She smiled completely oblivious.

"Didn't I promise?"

~Traveling seems to be like it would be Rosalie's favorite part.

The rumors, however; bothered her significantly.

"...a new one every night..."

"...there was that one exception though..."

"...Casanova..."

"...charming..."

"Cheater."

That was the worst one.

It was also the one that bothered her the most.

Up until her first year with the carnival, Rosalie felt truly loved.

Each night was full of bliss...

and empty promises.

"When Marco?" she would ask.

"Soon, Darling..." he would reply.

Always the same go around.

Always the same routine.

Always, always him.

Always with another girl.

Always.

That was when she decided to leave (for the first time).

She could stop in New York, just on the outskirts of the big city. After a,sh was still young. And when she looked in the mirror... well, she THOUGHT she looked beautiful.

"Marco," she told him, "Marco I've had enough."

"Enough of what, Rosalie Darling?"

"Don't you 'Rosalie Darling' me. I've had ENOUGH. Enough of the act. Enough of the other women. Enough of YOU."

"Come now, Rosalie. You don't mean that."

"Oh, but i do." she stood in the doorway strong and powerful. "I'm getting off in New York. Then, you are on your own."

Marco stood up from the table and turned to face the dark-haired beauty.

"Rosalie," he purred as he took a few steps toward her. "How could you do that? I thought... i thought you loved me."

her face softened slightly.

"I...I...Marco that isn't the point. You keep promising to marry me. That we'll set up the whole thing up at the next stop and then the next stop comes... and nothing. We stay in our trailer and the moment I'm gone, i find you an hour later with some girl. I can't keep it up, Marco. No matter... no matter how much i love you."

His hand found her almost as quickly as his lips had.

And that...

like every other time...

ended that.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Poem: "Flightless" by me

Ripping 
3 way taste
A 3 way tussle
Littering our floor
With shattered hearts
And shattered dreams
That lost their magic
Once the world grew too dark.
Such foolish eyes and mustered courage
Led the dream astray to die.
Like flightless birds, we struggle on the ground
Because we're too afraid to try. 

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Poem: "Daisies" by me

A dull faded sunlight
Dripping drops of confidence from dew
An earth turning slowly
To the beat of a metronome
A heart torn in two. 
Blossoms of anguish
Tear up through your skin
Sprouting daisy buds through your flesh to surround you
In the sunset colored love
That you asked for all along.
Eyes squinting to see
The chains holding you to the ground
Like roots embedded in lush soil
That help you grow and yet, consume
Watch it consume you. 
Under crisp air and harsh light;
Under plenishing rain you thrive
And yet-
You wither under the uncertainty
Of tomorrow's droughtful day. 

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Help?

i have spent TOO MUCH MONEY.
i still need money for gas
i need to somehow find a green t-shirt for tomorrow
i need to buy black capris and a black shirt for grease
i need to have money to pay caleb back for the over 100 dollars i owe him
i need to have money to pay for dinner at prom
i need to have money to pay my mom for my cellphone bill
I DON'T HAVE THAT MUCH MONEY.

i paid 107 bucks today to get my car out of a ditch
i paid 5 bucks for my lunch because i can't eat here at school and stick to my diet
i paid 6 bucks for food for someone who i love dearly but i can't afford it right now and when i volunteered, i could.
i paid money for my grease tshirt
i paid money for my grease script
i paid money for my grease jacket
i paid money for freaking EVERYTHING and it just keeps getting worse.

on the other hand,
i like these people with girlfriends and they are quite happy with them so WHY do i bother?
i'll TELL you why i bother. i bother because in one case, his girlfriend treats him like SHIT. she is a HORRIBLE girlfriend. she teases him, she tells him what to do, she has him WHIPPED and he doesn't do anything about it. he just goes a long with it and i BET you i can tell you why.
i bet he does it because he is COMFORTABLE just like everyone else i know in screwed up relationships.
"Oh, we've been together for years, so that must mean i should just TAKE IT."
jesus.

the other i don't really have a reason for i guess. but it's just frustrating.

all these people can get boyfriends and girlfriends and whatever and be happy
and here i am
losing weight so i can look SEMI-ATTRACTIVE
working my BUTT OFF trying to make myself better in every aspect
i'm a nice person
i care a lot about people
but NOTHING. NADA.
nobody wants anything to do with me because i'm always some friend. just the friend. the funny one. the NOBODY.

in other news,
i'm ALWAYS sick.
in the past three weeks, i've had
a sinus infection
an ear infection
strep throat
AND pink eye.
now, i can't hear out of my left ear properly, and the left side of my throat KILLS any time i swallow and any time i talk or yawn or basically EXIST.




WHY. seriously. why. everything i plan... it gets jumbled and stupid and confused and i just feel like i'm lost and alone and nobody cares.
my depression has started to act up again and i'm not gonna lie when i say i've fought off those urges so many times telling myself,
people in grease will notice.
my mom will notice
everyone will notice and i'll just get YELLED at like i always do and nobody will help me. nobody ever helps me.

it's like i've disapeared and i'm struggling.

i just don't understand why nobody wants to help or notices to help.
what's worse, is yesterday i realized i don't have any kind of confidant.
everyone that i have been close to is either out of reach, we've faded in our relationships or some other stupid reason. i have nobody to tell all this to and nobody who will understand all of it.

i just don't know what to do.

Cupid

hug the earth and kiss the ground
make way for all
the tears around
to flourish and bloom
then fade away
endless dreaming
wasted day of colors and skies
of dreams too soon
fragrent flashes
of deepening gloom
silly melodies of words unsung
the hearts that crumbled
under hard touches and tightening grips
on cupid's poisened arrow tips
love and devotion
go hand in hand
but they fight the precautions and destroy the plan
dance in the light
but don't open your eyes
his poisen can hide
in your butterflies.

Monday, April 11, 2011

New Thoughts on Disney

she waits in a daze
in a haze at the window
on the wall
staring back at the failures
that allowed her to fall

dreary drops of untouched dew
smear her makeup
under drooping eyelids
held open for the promise of
a prince to come for her too.

standstill clocks, hands unmoved with
slender fingers clutching the
dried petals of
the dreams she once held onto
tied to the string of the balloon she let go of long ago
when she gave away her heart
to become one more rejected cartoon.




don't waste your songs
on an aged dream that lost it's magic
when i lost you

or rather, the dream of you
distilled and dry to the tongue
the tip of it gracing my lips
when you used to sing that song

of notes filled with promise
of notes too soon forgotten with the fog that held you up
you're lost
amidst the dreams i let go of too soon.

amidst the air that supplied us with hopes and dreams of a love we let go of too soon.
of the love we let go of too soon.




i often wonder
what it would be like
to be her and not me.
i often wonder
what life would be like
to be wanted like her.
i often wonder what i did
to deserve to be alone.
i often wonder why my life
can't be etched in some disney campagin
full of love
and harmonies
and characters that the world can't get enough of.
that i can't get enough of.
how could you let me down?
how could you let me fall so fast before the hormones set it?
before the colors soaked into my skin
absorbed every lie you fed me as a child.
and here i am, waiting
for all your sick little promises.


until now, nothing i've written was good. but this... this i like:

“Being alone was never something I asked for,
not something i thrived to be.
Id rather be a tree:
strong and rooted to what it knows
to what it thrives off of.
I’d rather be so tall
that i could almost touch the sky
and be so close to flying
but never able to fall."


'least i got something good out of this.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

"Fairytale of Sorts", Written by Me.

Once upon a time there was a girl born with a fairy’s heart and soul beneath her skin. She was kind and loving and always used kind words to help whenever she could. Yet, the pure soul inside her was covered by thick hair and bubbling moles all over her body. She was trapped inside the body of a horrifying creature. Her teeth were so large and sharp that she never smile and her laugh was so thunderous and booming that she refused to laugh. Encasing her pure soul was a solid flesh that left her heavy and tied down not to mention bulbous to the eye.
She never understood why she wasn’t like all the other children in her village, why her parents never let her leave the confines of her near broken home and why her sister wouldn’t speak to her.
On a cold day in the middle of the night, she stole away to the village to look at the world under the night’s shadow.
“The world is so beautiful…” she wondered as she walked across the gravel road beneath her black boots. She longed to fit in and be a part of the world everyone shut her out of.
It wasn’t until the sun rose just enough that she could see her reflection in the water of the brick well in the center of the village.
“Hellish fiend!”
“Such a vile creature!”
“A demon!”
“Kill it! Kill it!” yelled the townspeople as they caught eye of the girl while she tried to plea for forgiveness for entering their unchanged village she clearly didn’t belong in.
“Please,” she cried, “I will hurt no one!”
But they continued to yell their words towards her heart that was so big and so fragile it nearly burst.
“How cruel can you all be? I’m just like you! I’m a person, too!” she shouted until a familiar voice rang louder and high above the townspeople’s cries.
“Let’s be rid of this monster!” the voice yelped.
The girl’s eyes widened with shock and then flooded with hot salty tears.
“Mother…?” she mumbled as her mother’s recognizable blonde hair bobbed towards her from the crowd of shouting villagers.
“She isn’t one of us!” her mother said as she tore off the sleeve of her daughter’s milky white dress. After a bark of applause and yips of joy, the girl’s sister stepped forth and a sigh of relief escaped the girl’s lips.
“Ahh… sister…”
But her sister only smiled a wicked smile and tore off the other of the sleeves.
“Different.” She stated as a plague of agreements swarmed the air.
“Father!” the girl cried out begging for someone, anyone to bring an end to this madness.
As if her prayer had been answered, her father stepped forward to the head of the crowd standing proudly in front of her. For a long moment he stood still as stone and overlooked the silent stricken mass of bodies before him. In one quick pivot, he twisted to face his daughter with a hurt and lost expression in his eyes; his look near distant and unattached.
All it took was one swift movement to rip off the remainder of her clothes that had been the only thing keeping the girl as human as possible, despite her shocking looks.
“A… a monster.” Her father whispered faintly as he left her to face the village as bare as a baby; her every flaw visible to the wide eyes that surrounded her and looked over every detail that she had grown to accept.
The girl had become numb. Her body, flawed and broken stood still as the townspeople swarmed her with pitchforks, rocks, knives and axes. She felt nothing but air hit her skin as they beat her until the hair on her body was sticky and thick with her crimson blood.
Instead, it was her father who took in her pain. As he watched the townspeople beat his kin until her last breath escaped her lips, he absorbed each fatal blow they threw. His eyes poured thick tears that his daughter no longer could shed and he fell to his knees, but the world never noticed.
For the world, though beautiful and flawed, doesn’t stop turning for all those who are the same- no –the world only notices those who are different and thus, takes its action.
The world left the girl’s father to cry over his unrecognizable daughter he had let down. The world left him to live his life until he died of old age and a broken heart.
But the world absorbed his daughter’s body as it rotted in the center of the village and for the first time in all her thirteen years, the girl felt like she finally belonged somewhere.
The End.