Work Text:
Somewhere where I belong
My name is Alexandra Danvers, but I only answer to "Alex", MOM. I mean, ELIZA.
Or "xFallenAngel89X" on AIM and also on MSN. I should really change that. I made up that username when I was going through my emo phase in middle school.
I'm 15 years old now. And I'm in my sophmore year of high school.
I'm not like the other girls at this school. Especially not like my sister, Kara "Sunny" Zor-el or whatever. What even kind of name is that, honestly?
It's like she's from another planet or something.
We have pretty much nothing in common. She's blonde like Eliza. I hate that she looks more like mom, I mean ELIZA, than I do.
(I don't want to call her mom anymore because we're having creative differences at the moment and to recognize her as 'mom' would be detrimental to my side of this irreconcilable separation).
My hair, unlike theirs, is dark.
Like my soul. Or........................................My mind.
I don't want to waste my time become another casualty of society.
I'll never fall in line Become another victim of your conformity And back down.
Which is what I would have said if I was 13 and still in my emo phase. God, that was so long ago. Two years! Can you believe it!
anyways, now, I've decided the punk aesthetic and "feel" is more my style.
that Wear Black All The Time thing was getting to be too much of a drag. If I kept that up, I might as well become a secret agent.
"ALEX!!!" Kara said.
Hurriedly, I buried my head into my locker. (A little too much, because my forehead collided with the hook).
I knew that voice. It was Kara.
"What," I said sulkily. "what...do you want..." I whispered, sadly.
"I just wanted to say hi!" She did that thing where she smiles and her eyes disappear.
It was cute when she did that, but I wasn't about to say that out loud.
"Uhm, Alex, are you okay?" The puppy eyes...
"I'm fine."
You're just both incredibly annoying and incredibly adorable somehow, Kara. That's all.
Also SCHOOL SUCKS.
efff society, honestly.
Anyways, ugh. I hate when people say hi to me. It was the WORST.
I wanna find something I wanted all along...
Here In My Room
When I got home, I angrily SLAMMED my books on my desk, pulled out my chair, and sat in it.
The computer was already on, so I didn't need to turn it on or anything.
"Ugh", I typed furiously in the AIM window. "I can't stand Mr. McCullers."
"roflmao rite hes such an a-hole. 3 essayss?? rlly??? we should jsut skip skool tmrw and not do any of the hw," bakadesu42 wrote back. (bakadesu42 is one of my best friends, in case that isn't clear. His real name is Sam). "stick it 2 the man!!!!"
"I can't," I said.
"y not!!!1" he said.
"i already did the hw..."
"o. :"
I was about to start my bio homework that I procrstinated on when I heard something (?) or someone (??) DISTURBING my piece.
"Alexandra, are you in there?"
I chose to ignore her. I do not respond to that name.
Well, at least, I ignored Eliza for like a second, then said "Yes" so she would get off my case.
Can't a girl work on her homework at home!? It's due like really soon, too. How dare she bother me. I mean it was due in like 3 days!!!
I hated myself for not starting it earlier. I am seriously the worst student ever.
How will I even get into college at this rate, let alone get an MD/PhD?
"Okay honey, I just wanted to check on you. Jonn is bringing home some pizza from your favorite place. Love you."
The pizza was amazing, as usual. BUT I DIDN'T want to let Dad know.
My goofy sister KARA sat next to me. "Thanks for the pizza, Jonn. It was sooo good! I think it might be my favorite."
Please, she said that about pot stickers, too. WHIHC IS IT, KARA.
"What'd you think, big sis?" Kara poked me.
I hissed back, like any Slytherin would.
[A/N NOT TO TOOT MY OWN HORN BUT I WROTE A REALLY GOOD FIC ABOUT MY OC/HARRY see it on my profile]
"I hate everything," I brooded, angrily stabbing the knife into the pizza crust. I pretended it was Everything. Le pain definitely deserved to feel my pain. "Life...tastes bad."
"Did you say something, Alex?" Dad said.
"No."
"Okay."
I stuffed the pizza into my mouth and chewed it loudly, enjoying every bite.
"What?! Why are you all looking at me like that!"
I stormed off.
Or tried to, except my fork fell to the ground. I picked it up, put it on my plate, and then stomped off.
That'll show them.
Later in my room, I hurried to my computer. There was so much to write.
I launched Netscape, then navigated to a blogging site where I wrote my private journal for random strangers on the internet to see.
It was called LiveJournal, but it might as well have been called DeadJournal for how I was feeling.
I thought upgrading to DSL would be better, but I still had to wait a bit for the site to load.
So while that was happening, I looked at my agenda.
Tomorrow, APUSH in the morning at 7:45AM, Chemistry 2nd period (which was like, 2 hours long), Gym during 3rd period, and then I was going home early to see Tara instead of going to British Lit...
I looked back to my computer screen. Finally, I said. LJ had finished loading.
Then I opened the post editor.
Subject: Ennui
Life, ultimately, is defined by routine.
We wake and go about our day, our lives largely unchanged from the previous day, rest at day's end, then repeat the cycle the following morning.
It is this repetition that brings me at low ebb.
But then, I write from the comfort of an American life.
...
Basket Case
"How are you?"
I hate talking about my feelings.
It was embarassing enough to have to be dismissed early from school and make up excuses for why I had to leave school early every Tuesday.
"Fine," I mumbled. "I guess."
Tara eyed me suspiciously. What did this woman want from me, anyway?
"You're hiding, again."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Seriously, woman, can you be a little clearer?
Isn't it your job to read my mind, not the other way around?
I wrote again in my private journal after that. private to EVERYONE.
[Except the 5 ppl who comment on it].
Kryptonite
Anywayz, I really don't want to talk about that anymore. Let's move on to something lighter.
Later at home, I used Eliza's university account to access some articles I needed for my research project on transmissible spongiform encephalopathies.
Reading about Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease was a nice escape from the other stuff I was dealing with.
It was comforting to learn about a fatal disease characterized by neuronal degeneration. But all this literature on bovine prion diseases and their transmission to humans was making me hungry.
So I headed to the kitchen.
Before I could go there, though, I had to pass the living room. More like the DEAD room, amirite. Lawlz.
Some terrible movie was on with some guy and girl (how original) making googley eyes at each other. I could tell they were about to kiss, because it's one of those movies.
Not another teen movie...
Meanwhile, I heard sniffling somewhere. Like someone was actually feeling emotions over this saccharine movie.
"Uh.." I tapped her on the shoulder. "What are you watching? Mind if I join?"
That was a terrible choice, by the way. To sit down and watch with her.
"At first, the guy and the girl don't really get along, but then!" she started sniffling again, what the hell, "Then they realize they were meant for each other all along."
Barf.
I sat there for like, 2 hours. Watching this crap.
We (somehow) still had leftover pizza, but no popcorn. WHAT A TRAVESTY, honestly. Not that I can complain, because I love that pizza.
That made the having to sit through Forgettable Movie more bearable.
Along with snarky comments I would make every time someone on screen would do something incredibly stupid. WHICH WAS EVERY 5 MINUTES.
"Wow, how romantic, showing up to some girl's window in the middle of the night. That's not creepy at all."
"Alex! I'm trying to watch!" she would say in annoyance, but then she would giggle, so really, mixed signals, sis.
"Look at wonderbread over there. Such a jerk, honestly. You want to know what I think, Kara?"
"Uhm sure?"
"I think, that popular girl should just get together with the nerdy girl that bland guy secretly wants to be with."
She thought I said "blonde", not bland, by the way.
And she wanted me to explain!! What the (bad word)!
"Uhm, Alex, I'm sorry, but I don't understand."
"Look at how Popular Girl looks at Nerdy Girl! There's something there."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What is there?"
It was hopeless.
One of these days, I was going to make her watch something better.
Three days later
ELIZA and Dad gave me (bad word) about making Kara watch the Blair Witch Project.
The sequel, not the original.
"Alexandra," ugh, Eliza, stop calling me that. WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT. "Your sister is terrified by what she saw."
"I'm disappointed in you, Alex."
THANKS DAD THAT DOESN'T HURT AT ALL OR ANYTHING.
"You know your sister shouldn't be watching things of this nature."
Kara was born somewhere North, but Eliza never told me where. We're not related by blood.
Something happened to her biological parents when she was young, but no one told me what it was. I don't care what anyone says, though, she's still my sister.
WHich is why I was CONSUMED WITH GUILT.
"Kara?"
I could hear her crying in there. WHAT HAVE I DONE.
I knocked.
Once, twice, three times.
"Okay if you don't open this door I'm going to break in."
That seemed to work.
"Hey, I'm...so-" I was not used to this apologizing thing. "Soo..r-I, soorawer"
SHE HUGGED ME WHAT THE FUCK.
Going Under
In Ms. Grant's class, we were reading some book by this dead lady poet person.
Except instead of a poetry book like you'd expect it was a novel.
This dead lady was from Massachusetts. AGAIN. ANOTHER MASS. POET.
Like Emily Dickinson was.
And also Robert Lowell, who was the previous depressing poet we read before this person's not-poetry but novel.
Is there, like, something in Massachusetts that makes all these writers so depressed? Is it the weather?
Gotta take a mental note: don't go there for college. Stick to the west coast where it's nice and sunny. National City.
Speaking of, I have a (bad word) ton of homework to do tonight.
Design lab for integrated bio/physics class. Maybe ELIZA can help me on this...ugh I do NOT want to ask her.
Work on twenty-page essay for APUSH on the Reconstruction.
Some ridiculous, 10 page essay for Ms. Grant's class. "We do not do 5 paragraph essays in this class," she says...DOES SHE EXPECT SOME KIND OF LITERARY CRITICISM CRAP thAT A COLLEGE PROFESSOR WOULD WRITE?
Why do I put myself through this.
Later, in my private lair...
Subject: Doing a Hardcore All-Nighter Mood: Dolorous. Crestfallen. Despondent. Dejected. Dispirited. Morose. Calamitous. Lamentable. Rueful. Sorrowful. UNHAPPY
I know I'm only in high school, but in my four long years in my quest to become a physician and researcher, I’ve found that juggling excessive sleep deprivation and testing is often difficult to endure, depending on how much your body can really take.
But perhaps the most important thing to do during a Hardcore All Nighter is to take a short break every once in awhile. While this may seem counter-intuitive and oh so against the principles of the Hardcore, it’s part of survival. Do something else. Take your mind off the work for a little bit, especially if you’re stuck on something.
My concern is that even if you deliberately made time for sleep (at night, duh), you cannot easily fall asleep as your Circadian Rhythm is so screwed up that you think night is day, and day is night.
Staying awake in classes is about as useful as studying while high on some recreational drugs (Aldous Huxley's body of work notwithstanding). You fail either way.
In order to stay awake, you must exert a tremendous amount of effort and energy. In order to pass an exam, you must be awake and alert to those annoyingly verbose questions for advanced chemistry.
“Blah blah blah standard enthalpy changes of reaction blah blah blah *sophisticated version of a commonly used unit here* blah blah blah delta H = delta H – T delta S blah *hefty but useless paragraph here* blah blah.” That is all I take in.
(I know the image I project on this blog is one of a bitter, sleep-deprived cynic, which I am, but it’s one of the ways in which I like to gripe about Pain).
The next day
I think the empty printer cartridges and sheafs of paper spoke for themselves. I was Stressed, and so was my printer. Sadism had manifested itself in....The Teachers.
I looked at my assignment book.
There were 8 papers (!!) assigned next week, one of which were vital to my final grade in English.
Freakout ensued. OMGWTFPHAILURE.
I was groggy and walked lugubriously around the kitchen.
[A/N I've been studying for the SAT. I hope you enjoyed that word].
I met up with my friends at the coffee shop by school. I don't really drink coffee yet, so I don't know what I'm talking about here.
But I really wanted a latte or espresso or whatever. It sounded good.
"I'll have the latte with 2 shots of espresso."
"Miss, the latte already has a shot of espresso."
"Oh."
"Did you still want the extra shot?"
"Yeah sure why not."
American Idiot
Oh, I forgot to tell you about my other best friend James. He's a photographer for the school newspaper.
We're always together, so people think we're dating.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.
No.
AND NO It's not because he's black. I just honestly don't see him that way. He's more of a brother.
We sat outside in the park. Everyone else was smoking WEED on the hill, but we were the good kids.
One of the pothead kids, Sara, came up to us and offered "some of this".
"Nah," I said, "I'm good."
"Cool." And then she went away. "See ya on the flip side, Danvers!"
What was the flip side? I never did find out.
Ne wayz, the only things we got high on were math, literature, and politics.
"America needs to wake the fuck up," my friend growled, stabbing at the pizza with not-quite cheese on it. "This jackass we call president...the only mission that's been accomplished has been screwing over millions of people, wasting tax dollars on this (Badword)."
[A/N (BADWORD )BUSH].
I glared at him. Intently. "James, we're not even old enough to vote."
"Yeah, I know."
"I mean, I can't believe America was stupid enough to elect this dumbass the first time around, let alone twice."
"Fucking Florida and Green Party voters, I swear to god."
Just when I was about to add something insightful about the current political situation, Kara and her dweeby friend Winn waltzed by.
(Winn is the president of the computer club. What a nerd, lawlz. That reminds me, I have to meet up with Ms. Luthor to talk about my research project in exobiology. She says it's far too early for me to even worry about teh senior year project. I say, it's not early enough. I like Ms. Luthor as a teacher, it's too bad she's a Republican).
"Hey Alex." Then she smiled sheepishly for some reason.
"Kara! How you doing?"
James was much nicer than me. He always was, tbqh.
They exchanged blah blahs and then they left.
"Hey," I broodingly said.
I wasn't paying attention, honestly. Not to Kara's sudden gigglyness (is that a word lol) - I mean, her giddiness.
It was Thursday, so the ROTC were all up in our business.
Especially Lucy Lane.
I couldn't help but stare...At her uniform.
Taking it off...so I could admire it!
I really liked that uniform.
[A/N NOT IN LIKE A GAY WAY LAWLZ. IM STRAight NOT THAT THERES ANTING WRONG WITH BEING GAY].
Some jackass broke me out of my staring spell with a poke.
"Hey, you okay?"
"huh? what?"
I wanted to throw my coffee at James.
uhm anyway. Now that I think about it, Kara was acting really weird. Weirder than usual. And it was usually when she's around James.
Her eyes would disappear and she giggled a lot more. Almost like she had a crush on him or someting.
... ... ... ... ... ...
WAIT.
I was about to come to an important realization there when I heard a ruckus coming from the school entrance.
There were people gathered around there like herds of sheep. Which they all were, tbh. Capitalist sheeple.
Curious, I gestured wildly to James to come along with me to see what was going on.
It was Vicious Vicky, my ex.
Ex-best friend, that is. It's complicated.
"Ugh, what is she doing now?" I announced.
Was that...Kara?
Vicky had Kara's bag in her hand and said some nasty shizzle about her.
I don't know what came over me but let's just say I ended up in the vice principal's office, and Vicky's face has never looked worse.
Needless to say, Dad and mother were not pleased with me.
I knew what they were going to say. Something like WHAT WERE YOU THINKING.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" Dad said. "You could have killed her!"
"Well maybe I should have."
Apparently that makes me some sort of villain.
I'm more of an anti-hero, Dad. There's a difference.
APPARENTLY you're not supposed to defend your little sister from some...(bad word).
This time it was mom's turn to say the disappointed line.
"I'm disappointed, Alex." She did that thing! With her face! The "you done goofed" face. The "Alex you are an utter disappointment to this family and will never be good enough in my eyes" look.
"You're to see Tara tomorrow. First thing."
"But dad, I have an exam!"
"You are suspended from school, Alex!" Dad shouted. "I think your exam can wait."
"Honey," oh, not gonna call me by my first name, are we, ELIZA. "You're clearly under a lot of stress. We just think it would help."
"You really scared your sister again."
My sister...
I was too tired to argue, though.
But I needed to have one last chat with my buds.
xFallenAngel89X: Ugh futurefotoguy: You're grounded, aren't you? xFallenAngel89X: What do you think? bakadesu42: as epic as that was wtf were u thinkin futurefotoguy: seriously, alex. bakadesu42: i hate that (badword) as much as anyone but you're in deep (badword).
And then I crashed.
My Own Worst Enemy
In the morning, I put on cargo pants and a plaid shirt.
It was time to go see Tara.
"Why is everyone treating me like I did something wrong?"
"Alex, you really hurt that girl."
Irascible (sp?), fractious, cantakerous, sullen, FURIOUS.
Please. She'd recover from a punch in the face.
Did anyone make her go to therapy after doing what she did to me? Or suspend her for all the crap she put me through?
We were best friends. We were supposed to trust and care for each other. I listened to her when she needed an ear to listen to. I invited her to sleep over our house when she got into an argument with her parents.
And then one day, she decided I wasn't worth her time.
"You're awfully quiet."
Ugh Tara, you and your damn soothing voice.
"I'm fine," emphasis on the fine.
She gave me that "I know you're lying and hurting but you can tell me what's going on, it's okay" look.
"I know you're lying and hurting but you can tell me what's going on, it's okay," she said.
SO where do I begin?
Do I talk about my biological dad, how I didn't really know him? Or how sometimes I just want to drop everything and disappear and scream into a void somewhere?
She looked at me warily. "Have you been sleeping okay?"
"Yeah, I guess." I pulled at my pcokets. "..no."
what do you think, therapist lady! you're the shrink here, not me.
"I hear a lot of anger in your voice when you talk about you and your mom."
Yeah, so what?
SO what if I do?
When I tell her about the things I've accomplished at school, my GPAs, my honors, awards, the first thing I hear isn't "wow, that's great, Alex" or "that's wonderful!" but "do you really think this will be enough to get you into college?"
Dad's better, but not that much better. When something goes wrong about my sister, it's always my fault. It's never his, it's never mom's, it's never Kara's. It's always mine.
"What about your sister?"
Sometimes, I hear her crying by herself when she thinks no one can hear. I hear her scream in her nightmares. She was young when it happened, but she still remembers them. Her family.
When she's in pain, I feel it. I want nothing more than to go and comfort her, but I can't bring myself to do it. I don't know why.
I hate crying.
In the End
it doesn't even mattterrr anymoree
(Dad completely exagerrated, by the way. I'm only suspended for 2 days. But the principal still made me stay home for a week over concerns about my health or whatever.)
When I got back home form seeing Tara, I stormed off to my lair. My dark abode.
Mom and dad took away my computer privileges, so I had no choice but to sit there and brood.
I closed the blinds. But it was so sunny out that I couldn't really drown out my sorrows in the darkness or whatever.
(Reminder to self: consider that sunny weather can get annoying when you're in a foul mood. Reconsider east coast, which might have a better backdrop for when you're feeling terrible. Maybe those Massachusetts authors were right.)
SOmeone was knocking.
"Go away, Kara."
"I'm..I'm going in anyway." This was the first time I'd ever heard her sound so forceful. It was nice. You go, girl.
"FINE." I said. IT'S NOT LIKE I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE A LOCK ON MY DOOR OR ANYTHING.
"Alex..."
"What."
"Thanks." She plopped onto my bed. "For everything."
EVERYTHING??
"Well, maybe not that prank you played on me."
"..which one?"
Seriously, there were so many.
"Well, Vicky had it coming. She shouldn't have done that to you. She-"
I was about to continue when SHE HUGGED ME AGAIN. I think I squeezed harder this time, though.
"When I'm not grounded anymore," (in like 84 years, probably), "we should, you know, hang out."
"Oh, oh! We should listen to some of the new NSYNC songs!"
Oh god, anything but that. "Uh, sure, why not?"
We spent the next few hours playing some board games. I won, obviously.
"So, do you like James? As in, like him like him?"
"Oh, I.." She fiddled with her glasses. She does that all the time, when she's trying to hide how nervous she is about something. "I like him as a friend.."
I'll get it out of her.