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The Journal (Part 4)
1.9
Before I could scream, another hand closed over my mouth. I bit down on the inside of the hand, making whoever it was let go. I opened my mouth, ready to go off on a tangent as I yanked my hand free, but then I heard the whisper, “Sheik, what the hell?”
I spun, glaring at wherever I thought she was standing, “Did you seriously think sneaking up on me was going to help keep our trying to escape a secret?”
“Um…,” Zelda began.
Lights flashed on, blinding me. I covered my eyes, wincing. A voice filled my ears, one I recognized instantly.
“Did you seriously think I didn’t know you were trying to escape?”
“Oh, put a sock in it,” Zelda muttered. I uncovered and blinked my eyes fiercely, wiping away the involuntary tears that escaped. I could barely see Zelda doing the same, although she was faring a bit better than I was. Behind her was the man who said to let me live, and he was smiling in amusement.
My eyes finally adjusted completely, and I crossed my arms the most defiant way I could. Zelda put her hands on her hips, cocking them to the right.
“You couldn’t have noticed that easily.”
His amusement grew, “Unless I was waiting for it.”
I kicked the back of Zelda’s shin, “Told you so.”
She elbowed me, “And you don’t even hate to say it.”
“Girls,” the man warned. Zelda rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what she thinks she’s going to accomplish by being herself, “Thank you, Captain Obvious. The scientists around the world will love to have that little biological fact on record.”
His amusement disappeared, replaced by a hardness I totally recognized as controlled anger fueled by annoyance.
“What’s your name?” I barely recognized that I had asked the question, but then I smiled innocently. Zelda glanced at me, her expression shocked. That was most likely because neither of us had thought to even wonder about this before.
He raised an eyebrow, “Nice try, but I’m not giving information away that easily.”
I wasn’t even thinking about that, but now that he says so….
----------------------------------------
Yeah, I know. One of the first reactions when you’re kidnapped is ‘Who are you?’ Well, Zelda and I aren’t normal. You should know that by now.
I have nothing to put between parts of the stories that relate to them, for some reason, so I’m just going to put a random Zelda story to amuse you and stop the story for a second, since I’m not ready to add the next part yet. I will, of course I will, but not yet.
We were at a football game, and as a cheerleader, I was all decked out in school apparel. As a marching band member, Zelda was too, although not as obvious as the skirt and vest, but still pretty obvious, although she usually changes as soon as possible. I was walking alone, and having just been injured was watching my footing on uneven ground. The game was over, and I was on my way to my mom’s car.
Suddenly, I heard a call, “Why don’t you cheer for a real team?”
I glanced to my left and my gaze landed on the other team’s bus. The players were inside, celebrating victory, except for a few whose gazes were focused on me. I had to assume one of them spoke, so I ignored him and kept walking.
“Come on, girl, don’t be shy!”
I didn’t even look up.
“Cheer chick! Where’s your pride?”
I looked up, ready to break my code of conduct and about to scream ‘Up yours, P**** Panther!’ but tripped at the exact moment my gaze left the ground. I managed to stop myself and not face-plant, but I still lost all dignity I might’ve had. The players started laughing, finding this hilarious and taunting me more and more. I grit my teeth, called on whatever amount of self-respect I could find, and didn’t say a word.
Then, a voice I love spoke, “Aw, the P**** Panthers have to beat up on a girl? How sad!” It was basically a coo, and so sarcastic it would make my mother say ‘Watch your tone!’ I looked up to see a tiny girl in jeans and a brown sweatshirt holding a flute over her shoulder like a baseball bat.
“P**** Panthers? We won!”
Zelda rolled her eyes, “Fail!”
“You make no sense, you….” Curse word that starts with a B.
“A win is a fail to fail, therefore you still failed.”
She helped me to my feet and let me brush off my hands and knees. We started walking, with them screaming at us. She started to play her flute, and it was basically the ‘We’re off to see the wizard’ tune. We started skipping, side-by-side, her playing and me singing. Their screams followed us, but once we hit the sidewalk, we slowed to a normal walk. She stopped playing, turned around, flipped them off, and kept playing again, this time letting the notes flow as ‘We are the Champions.’
Let’s just say, we met one of them that weekend while at Neon’s Skateaway. He apologized for his and his friends’ behavior, and then waited. When we didn’t apologize, he smiled slightly, “Don’t I get one?”
“No,” Zelda replied, matter-of-factly. I shook my head and used the same tone, “We’re the victims here.”
He laughed, “You two amuse me.” We hung out that night.
And yeah, we’re friends now.
-------------------------------------
“Don’t treat them as if they’re your daughters, Monty.”
Zelda raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Monty?” We both ignored the voice behind us, glancing at each other and smiling in amusement. Monty glared behind us, “I have this under control, Jack. Go.”
Jack grabbed the back of my shirt and the back of Zelda’s, yanking us away from Monty, “No, I have this under control. Don wants to see you.” Monty’s eyes flashed angrily at Jack, the man who wanted to kill me. I didn’t say anything, deciding to let them duke it out, but Zelda had other plans.
“Are you guys the mafia or something? Because I swear I paid you back.”
“Shut up!” Jack ordered her…loudly and with an animal growl to it. He slammed her against the wall, which wasn’t hard with her size, and then gave Monty a challenging look. Monty stepped around us, “You hurt them, Don’ll have your head, and you know it. Learn the tricks of the trade, Jack, or you’ll never survive.”
As his footsteps retreated down the hall, Zelda looked at me and mouthed, ‘Mafia!’ I shrugged and mouthed back, ‘Maybe not.’
She sighed in annoyance and spoke, “Way to crush my hopes and dreams.”
Jack slammed her against the wall again, and then dragged us down the hall.
Sheik Wolf
1.10
I’ll still remember when Zelda knocked on the door of my house at three o’clock in the morning. My dad answered, and he let her in because, hello, it’s Zelda. She came up to my room, flicked on the light, closed the door behind her, jumped on my bed, and proceeded to scream, “IT HAPPENED!” as if the whole neighborhood couldn’t hear her.
Of course, I was awake by this point. However, she didn’t tell me what ‘it’ was. She just started singing, and left me to figure it out. I finally did, and she started laughing hysterically and proceeded to tell me exactly how ‘it’ happened. I was transfixed (she’s a wonderful storyteller) and when she was done, I was laughing, too. Why?
She got her first kiss with the guy of her dreams. How?
It was the punishment for losing a bet that she couldn’t be nice for a day.
Yeah, some punishment. It made her year.
That’s when I asked her why she came over at three. Want to know her reply?
“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”
--------------------------------
Jack threw us into a room with about five other girls. They were all at least five years older than we were. Zelda stared at them a second, turned to look at the door that slammed and locked, and then looked back at them. I watched her and looked at things out of the corner of my eye. After about thirty seconds of silence, Zelda screamed, “What the hell?”
One of the girls laughed, covering her mouth a split second later and looking around as if it was illegal to have fun. The other girls glanced at her in alarm, and then looked at us newcomers. They were all thin and pretty, in comfortable clothes, but they looked as if they wanted to cry and hang themselves. Wow, where in hell are we, and what the hell are we going to be subjected to?
Zelda crossed her arms, “Someone explain, before I start punching people.”
I put a hand on her arm, “Um…Zelda, I think they’re in the same boat as us. If you’re going to punch someone, wait until Jack shows up again and get revenge for when he slammed you into the wall.”
“Twice,” she muttered in annoyance.
The girl who laughed gained the courage to speak, “I suggest not doing that, especially for virgins like you.”
I raised an eyebrow, “How do you know….wait a minute.”
Zelda cursed…loud. She cursed again. Then, she went on a tirade of cursing in several languages. I was a little ticked she never taught them to me, until the stuff she was saying became things that only ever came out the mouths of bikers before. Then, I was proud of her, because she was so small and the curses just became cute.
The other girls in the room stared in horror. One of them stuttered, “It’s really n-not that bad.”
Zelda stopped cursing and looked at her, “Are they forcing you to be on crack too?”
She shrugged, “No, but I mean….” She trailed off, probably having no idea what to say after it, then added. “I’m Crystal. Well, I’m Megan, but they changed my name to Crystal. It’s almost like a stage name, I guess. We just go by them.”
“I’m Alice.”
“I’m Esme.”
“I’m Rosalie.”
Before the last girl, the one who laughed, could say her name, I mumbled, “You’re just a bunch of vegetarian vampires, aren’t you?” Zelda gave me a look that said ‘I want out.’
“I’m Dorothy.”
I rolled my eyes, “No Toto?”
“What’re your names?” Dorothy asked, motioning for us to sit down on one of the mattresses thrown on the floor. I shoved Zelda onto one before seating myself, otherwise she wouldn’t have sat down, “I’m Sheik. This is Zelda.”
Esme looked surprised, “They gave you stage names already? That was fast if you just arrived today….”
Zelda glared at her, offended, “Those are our real names, genius.” I elbowed her. They aren’t exactly normal names, especially because of the relationship between them. I’d think they were fake, too.
Rosalie glanced at Alice, “What stage names could they give the virgins?”
Zelda and I glared at her. Zelda cleared her throat to get their attention. Then, she pointed to me, “SweeTart.”
I pointed to her, “Bloody Mary.”
--------------------------------------
Get it yet?
Sheik Wolf
1.11
“I was standing by my window, on a cold and cloudy day,” Zelda sang quietly. The small, lone window was dark, telling me that twenty-four hours had passed. It probably wasn’t the Fourth of July anymore, and even if it were, it wouldn’t be soon. I recognized the song immediately and, judging by the uneaten food beside her, where she was getting it from.
“When I saw the hearse come rolling, for to carry my mother away,” Zelda’s voice was light, barely filling the relatively small space we were in. Rosalie, Esme, Alice, and Crystal were all fast asleep, curled close together on two mattresses pushed next to each other. Dorothy was still awake, stretched out on the remaining mattress. Zelda sat, knees to her chest in a corner, a blanket beneath her butt. Her head was tilted back, and her eyes were closed as she let the words slip from between her lips.
“Will the circle be unbroken, by-and-by Lord, by-and-by.”
Her lips barely moved to release the words.
“There’s a better home a-waiting, in the sky Lord, in the sky.”
Dorothy tapped her fingers against the mattress, keeping the slow, tempered beat of the song.
“Lord I told that undertaker, undertaker please drive slow, for the body you are hauling, Lord I hate to see her go.”
I watched Zelda, anxious. I didn’t want them to pull what they did in Iron Jawed Angels. If they did, I’d probably cry. It’s only been a day, and she only refused to eat once, but what if that’s enough for them to strap her down? They can’t have a suicide, can they? Well, they probably could, but what if they don’t want to see someone dying slowly in their care?
Well, I use the word ‘care’ very loosely here.
“Will the circle be unbroken, by-and-by Lord, by-and-by.”
Or maybe they’ll just kill her now, although I don’t think I’d allow that.
“There’s a better home a-waiting, in the sky Lord, in the sky.”
I’d rather die before I let them kill her.
“I will follow close behind her, trying to hold up and be brave.”
Dorothy closed her eyes, her fingers still tapping lightly.
“But I could not hide my sorrow, when they laid her in her grave.”
I watched Zelda as her eyes opened slowly.
“Will the circle be unbroken, by-and-by Lord, by-and-by.”
Her head tilted down and to the side, her eyes landing on the door as if she was expecting something or someone.
“There’s a better home a-waiting, in the sky Lord, in the sky.”
Almost as if on cue, the door opened.
--------------------------------------
‘Iron Jawed Angels’ was one of my favorite movies of all time, and definitely one of Zelda’s. She knew every single one of Lucy’s amusing cracks. She knew exactly when everything happened in the movie, and she could describe the movie to anyone in so much detail they’d be able to write at least twenty pages down following her verbatim, which is basically word-for-word. She loves the movie so much that it was one of the reasons she refused to let her pendant stay in the hands of Jasmine Owens.
‘Iron Jawed Angels’ is to Zelda as ‘Bring It On’ is to all the people in ‘Fired Up.’
Sheik Wolf
1.12
As soon as Jack stepped into the room, the sleeping girls were jumping awake. They stared at him with wide eyes. He smiled, “Ten o’clock, my loves. It’s time.”
It’s only ten o’clock!?!?! And time for what?!?!?!
He took Crystal and Esme, leading them out of the room. Crystal sent a panicked look over her shoulder, blue eyes filled with terror, while Esme gave me a weak smile, her green eyes dull as they resigned to whatever fate awaited her. I had a feeling I knew.
Jack came back, and he motioned to me with one finger, and then to Zelda, “Come on, SweeTart, Bloody Mary. You’ve been requested.”
I wonder why? Would it be the V-card status hanging over our heads?
He led us through the halls, passed door after door, and stopped in front of the newest doors I have seen. He unlocked the door and motioned for us to go inside, “SweeTart gets red and Bloody Mary gets blue.” We entered. The door closed, the lock quickly clicking into place.
Zelda and I stared at the clothes in front of us. Her hands were shaking slightly, “I’m not wearing that.”
I was having similar thoughts, but now wasn’t the time to test these men. I picked up the strapless red dress that reminded me of what Mary wore to the dance in ‘Another Cinderella Story.’ Of course, her dress wasn’t strapless, and mine was a little shorter. Zelda’s dress was long and light blue, elegant and obviously meant to make her look her a little older than she really was. It only covered one shoulder.
“Sheik, what they’re going to do to us…what they’re expecting….”
I shook my head, cutting her off.
“Don’t think about it. Just don’t. Whatever happens, happens, but it’s not a good idea to anger them right now. We don’t know enough. Let’s just wait and see.”
She nodded slightly, clearly not taking faith in what I said but trusting me anyway.
Five minutes passed and we were dressed, barefoot, and staring at each other in the mirror. Zelda was shaking her head in disbelief, “What a little makeup would do to you….” I blinked, “All you need is to pull your hair back….” Zelda’s dress was perfect on her, hugging her in just the right way to make her look innocent yet still at least eighteen despite her size. Mine made me look older as well, but it made me look a little more provocative than hers does.
“Sit back and relax,” commanded Dorothy, appearing behind us from who-knows-where, “it’s time to make you beautiful before the torture begins.”
How reassuring.
Sheik Wolf
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This article has 3 comments.
The good: They are NOT chapters! They're entries in her journal lol.
The bad: i'm glad xP
The random: I'm even more glad! Thanks =)
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Favorite Quote:
"According to some, heroic deaths are admirable things. (Generally those who don't have to do it. Politicians and writers spring to mind.) I've never been convinced by this argument, mainly because, no matter how cool, stylish, composed, unflappable, manly, or defiant you are, at the end of the day you're also dead. Which is a little too permanent for my liking." — Jonathan Stroud (Ptolemy's Gate)