Teeeeeeeeeeeesting

Title: Staunch of the Cynic
Author: greenpekoe  or CloverRock</span>
Other Pairings: Draco/Harry in future

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: ~4900

Warning: The plot of this story focuses on RELIGION and SLASH!! both are controversial to some degree. I thrive off it ;)

Summary: Seamus questions his faith. Dean denies his ever existed. A Believer becoms sceptical, while a sceptic is given reason to believe

 

( On with the Show )

 Right on! Flames just scored against the Oilers. In yeh FACE provincial Capital! 2-0 at the first period isn't even over!

...

Moving right along.
New story. I have it posted on Fanfiction.net HERE and that's where I'll be posting future chapters (I have the first four done, it's a new tactic I'm using to keep me from abandoning my stories midway through). probably a day or two before I post them at deamus , just so I have a few days to reflect on them. You know, so I don't throw myself to the hxc Seamus/Dean fans before I have a little constructive criticism from the non elite (ah LJ... how I loveth thee)

Title: Staunch of the Cynic
Author: greenpekoe  or CloverRock
Other Pairings: Draco/Harry in future

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: ~4900

Warning: The plot of this story focuses on RELIGION and SLASH!! both are controversial to some degree. I thrive off it.

 Part: Prologue, Chapter one.

Summary: Seamus questions his Faith. Dean denies his ever existed. A Believer becomes sceptical, while a sceptic is given reason to believe.</span>

( Goooooooooooo Flames! )

I've worked so much this summer. I'm actually looking forward to school.

Recently, my world has turned to shit.

I know, way to be seventeen. Angst, angst, angst.

Let's get this straight. I like my family. I like my brother, and my sister. I love my mom, and sometimes, I even like my father. I know for sure that I would never want them to leave me. Not forever.

But a week on my own. Now that, I can enjoy.

The first day, Saturday, rocked. It was so fun, I went to this thrift sale with my 'non-related-big-sister-figure' (comlicated. She used to be Drummer in my and, but she started Uni on the other side of the city. She's honestly the big sister I never had.) and I got 29 items for $2.90!! Everything there was ten cents. The Coat I found was amazing, will post picture of it later. We went out for pizza, watched that Movie "From Hell" with Johnny Depp, then I went to work, My best friend came over, we baked cookies and drank tea and talked, and then went to sleep. Hell, no oen was home, she took Reggies Room and I had my own.

It was great. I was looking forward to the rest of the week.

And then Sunday started.

You know that stupid saying "If you start the day on a bad foot, you'll finish it on one"? Yea? Well, It happened. God, did it ever happen. I went to bed at the stunning hour of four AM, not really caring because I knew that I didn't have to work until three. Plenty of time.

But my cellphone went off at 9:45. Gah.

I picked it up, answering in that "Hello" with the implied 'This better be good, cause you are talking to the most bitchy human alive, here, and I've not about to take an "Oh sorry, wrong number" without some compansation for my lack of sleep. Like your balls.'

 It was my mom.

Her: Hey, how are you doing?
Me: (slightly bitch) Well, I've awake, thanks...
Her: Oh, I'm sorry, did I wake you up?

And then I noticed it...

She was crying.

Oh, I forgot to mention that they were in BC. That's where they went on vacation, 700 km's away, with a few more of our friends. There were others that were suppoed to go, but they decided that they didn't want to leave their daughters at home alone.

So Mom. Crying. In another province.

She told ... something very sad had happened in the town that I live in. A person, a very close family friend of ours, The one with the kids that they didn't want to leave by themselves, had died.

I was shocked. I knew all three of his kids very well. There are two girls really close to my age, both friends of mine- One of them occasionally sang and played piano during Jam sessions and honestly, she's the nicest person I've ever met- the other had just graduated and was going to start a degree in political sciences... The other was a 12-year-old boy who had played Hockey with my brother. Just 12.

I felt tears and this big bubble of something ... grief and another emotion... probably empathy. The friend who was staying the night started shuffleing from across the hall.

I asked how.

My mom told me it was Suicide.

...

How? How can you do that when you have a family? Daughters, A son, a wife. There was nothing wrong there, nothing. I know, because the Girls, I was with them all afternoon yesterday, they told me. They said that they had no idea. Everything had been normal. Their mother was on a camping trip about an hour away with her son and two of his friends, and the girls were home with their dad. The one who I'm closest too, the singer, she woke up Saterday morning work work, but couldn't find her dad anywhere. She thought that maybe he was in the car already, waiting for her... so she went into the garage.

He had hung himself.

He had hung himself, and the girl ... she found him.

She's so young, and so innocent! I've never even heard her swear! She has nice things to say about everyone, and she has never, never, done anything that will ever come close to jsutifying why she had to see what she did.

I called him selfish. Right to my best friends face. It was the third sentance out of my mouth after I found out.

For a minute, when I heard the story, I hated him.

It was just a minute though. It was because ... well, I would never be able to live with myself if my dad did that. I would always ask ... why? What did I do that made you want to leave me? Forever?

But I can't. I shouldn't.

Because that's how depression works. It eats away at the inside. You don't see it on the outside, I guess. They didn't see it. I dont see it in my father, even though he told me that he was depressed...

Now I'm scared. I'm scared that he'll leave like their father did- I keep putting myself in their place and ... I just can't. I couldn't hold on. I would break down if that happened to me, and there is no way that I would be able to pull myself together like those girls have.

I still haven't heard the boy speak, though. And I drove them all home yesterday.

I need my parents here. They were going to come home, but the wife- one of my mothers best friends, she told them not to. She doesn't want to burden them like that on their vacation. She would feel like she ruined it, I think.

And let's face it- She probably feels enough guilt as it is.

She shouldn't have to.

But... I'm all alone. In this house. I was at the prayer session tonight, in this big, beautiful church, and everyone had someone there for them. I had come on my own.

I completely broke down, of course. There goes my damn empathy again- I was thinking about what it would be like to burry my son. My Father. My husband. I was thinking what it would be like knowing that this wasn't an act of nature, it was ... well ... him.

And then, when I had passed the body, and when I went to hug the wife, I broke down again.

Because the first thing she said to me was "Honey, you're all alone! I'm so sorry that you're all alone!"

I mean ... Her husband had just died, and she was worried about me!? Me?

I just ... I cracked. Right there. I hugged her so tightly... I just...I just wanted to ... to ...

Well, I don't know. I just....

I want my family. I really do, I need them right now. I need them near me.

The funeral, tomorrow, I'm going with my sisters friends mom. Distant enough? Haha it's ok, I really like her. This girl, my sisters friend, she is in Bc with my family instead of me. I bet it's hard for her too. As for her mother- well, I'm in need of one. And she could probably use an oldest child, seeing as my family had whisked hers away to lakeside paradise.

I wont forget to bring tissues this time, though. And I wont wear eye-makeup. I didn't realise that prayer would be so ... devestating.

I need to sleep. The week has been really draining.

I need to get off my ass and go to work.

...

But I dont waaaant too.

Hm, forgot to mention that I pierced my eyebrow. I love it so much, and for once, I didn’t cry.See, being deadly afraid of needles and all, I was certain that I was going to pass out, bawling and screaming and cowering and all that.

But there was no needle. I was like “Whoa. Way to psyche myself out!”

…ok, I was a bit dizzy all day though.

I’m so freaking AWAKE! It’s working at the movie store that does it for me. Free caffeine. It’s a problem. A serious problem. Like, k, I’m sitting there, bored, and I look over at the espresso machine and … God. I have an unhealthy addiction to skim milk no foam lattes with coconut and hazelnut syrup, whip cream and chocolate on top. Ah, skim milk and whip cream- They cancel each other out.

 

I’m watching A Knights Tale. I’ve been waiting for it to get back in for like, two weeks. Freaking people rented it and then took it on vacation, so it was like, 15 days overdue. With only 50 cents for a late charge a night, I mean, it’s not too expensive to take it with you. But the same people had 10 Things I Hate About You. I needed my Heath Ledger Fix. I’ve got them both now, though. Crisis averted.

 

I’m unbelievably excited to see Brokeback Mountain. Heath Ledger making out with Jake Gyllenhaal. Two of Hollywoods hottest. Making. Out.

 

Am officially the worlds biggest hag.

 

But OH MY GOD!

Can you BLAME me?

 

Seriously, they are the two SEXIEST men alive. Really. When I heard they were doing a movie together about a year ago, a romance no less, I was like “Wow. That’s going to be awesome.”

 

I was wondering who the woman would be, you know. Two hot men, you need the woman that they are fighting over (Colin Firth, Hugh Grant over Renee Zellwegger in Bridget Jones— Ben Stiller and Edward Norton over Jenna Elfman) but alas … could not find the name of the woman. Decided to read the short story that it was based on …

 

I’ll start with this, as a writer, I was disappointed. I didn’t really like the style that the author chose- it was too … run-on, and … a little too ‘in her head’. But the actual story … I mean, the characters and the plot …

 

Well, it was emotional, and gripping, and …

 

Then I really thought about it.

 

…

 

And it hit me …

 

…

 

THERE WOULD BE SEX SCENES… WITH BOTH OF THEM AT THE SAME TIME…TOGETHER!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

… I was like…

 

Well, take that happiest you’ve ever been.

 

Now multiply it by EIGHT TRILLION!

 

That’s the one.

 

Sigh.

 

Is it unhealthy as a teenage girl, who is, last I checked, straight, to be so obsessed with gay men’s love lives?

 

Yea. Probably.

 

So what. Straight men are, almost absolutely penises.

 

And they don’t dress as nicely. I’m a sucker for a well dressed-man.

 

Like, like … ok, there is this barista at Higher Ground. Holy crappola! He is so freaking CUTE! He wears really nice jeans, not tight-ass scene or anything, just nice- well fitted and designer. And his tee-shirts? He has that vintage thing going on, but in a really un-grungy way. It’s very … rawr? (lack of better word)

 

He could be straight, and have a wonderful sense of style, right? It happens every once and a while, I’m sure. Joel Riker-Fox, for example. Well … or some girl picked him up while he was still in his jersey/baggy-jean stage and made him a sex god.

 

….Smart bitch. Hate her.

 

-le sigh-

 

Night.

I just realized something, in my insane, 5:00am thought pattern.


A mullet is:

"Business in the front, party in the back" type deal. Short up top, long down your neck. perfectly trashy by todays standards, but somehow acceptable in the late 80's early 90's.

A run-of-the-mill emo haircut has:

a. The long bands that can be draped in ones eyes to give it the, "I'm mysterious, because you can't really see my face and therefore have no idea what I'm thinking" (even though I'm pretty sure that we can all take a guess at what's going on in emo kids minds. Something along the lines of "How can I tell more people, in the most effectivly ansty way that leave no room for argument, about how much I'm misunderstood, my scene rocks and how I hate the world?!")

B. Short hairs that can be either spikes up ("yea, I put some effort into my look, you absolute slob- you disgust me with your messy haired-additude") or messed up and all over the place ("I didn't have time to do my hair because I was running late- see I spent my entire night at the My life is an eternal sorrow show. There were people who didn't look like us there, so I had to exert extra energy to come up with witty insults about how they are just conformists) in the back.


Therefore, an Emo haircut is just a reverse mullet.

...No, I'm not upset with emo kids right now, thank you for asking.

Night


oh, wait. P.S. Emo kid I am thinking of (who will never read this journal, I'm sure)- Hey, you know how you hate the world?

Guess what?

It hates you back

I've decided to start using this journal again. I have one that a few of my friends have access to, and another one that I abandon a long time ago. So This, as of today, is declared my main writing journal.

yay?

With that said- I have to get ready for work. Because I love my job and money is good.

I worked my last shift at the grocery store yesterday. It was amazing. I'm so glad that I'm done there. I'll be a full time coffee shop/movie store employee for the rest of the summer :D

I went to the Midnight book release party for Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, which was fun. There was this kid behind me in line, who was all blond and adorable, and he was dressed up in Gryffindor robes. Unbelievably cute. Like, you could suck the cuteness up with a straw. He was just bouncing the whole time, and grinning, and Ah! I want a kid like that!

 

I stayed up ‘till five a.m. reading before I finally passed out. I woke up at ten and read all day Saturday. Me and Amanda met up Sunday night at the coffee place to eat ice cream cake and mourn the loss of, well, you’ll know when you read it, and generally bitch about the couples and shit. Some of them seriously shocked me. In a good way. The last chapter pissed me off a fair bit, though. I’m still in a catty mood.

 

Seriously, though. Is it healthy to be so obsessed with a book? Because, I honestly am- It’s a huge part of my life. I sort people in my head, and when I see someone that looks like a character, I assume that they are going to act that way. It’s weird, I guess, but it’s just is. I eat, sleep and breathe Harry Potter.

 

I don’t care. At least there is an entire internet full of people who are equally obsessed. I need to make some e-friends to discuss this with <3

I did it! I totallly Snuck out of the house. Why?

TO BUY MY FRICKIN' BOOK!!!

I did it. In only... well lets see, I left the house at 7:14, And got home at 7:51... So... carry the five, gives you 11-4, which is 7, left with 4-1, which is 3. THIRTY SEVEN FLIPPING MINUTES!

I went to the bank first- cause I thought that I had spent almost all my money, right? So I'm at the bank, and that little peice of paper comes out after I've finished depositing- 61.44!! Right on!

So I'm motoring to Chapter, noticeing a lack of people on the road. And I freaked out. Almost all the stores were closed. Shit, daylight savings, it's almost eight! AHH What if Chapters is CLOSED!

But it wasn't. Thank the God of Reading.

I literally jogged to the Teen-Book Section, grabbed it (I like, body checked some girl, too. But it's ok, she was blonde and I assumed snobby- When someone comes between me and my book, I assume the worst. Bitch) and did a wonderful olypmic-worthy sprint to the checkout (the guy behind the counter was like "Uhhh... akwardness"- I understand. I'm wearing Glasses, a boys shirt and my hair, which I let air dry this morning, so it's curly, was thrown into some excuse for a up-do. Mark saw me. He knows.) and like, booted it to the car.

I didn't speed, though. I did the limit the whole way home.

No one does the limit, you know. I was passed by a police car. That's right, a fricking police car passed me. Aren't they supposed to be encouraging young, impressionable drivers like myself to be responsible on the road?

He didn't have his lights on, eighter. And he was laughing at something his partner said. So I doubt he was off to a murder crime scene or something...

Anyway- I have my book. I still haven't done any of my homework, and it's already 8:00 (but it feels like 7:00)

So I should do that.

After I read a chapter.

Or ... Two...

DAMN YOU MEG CABOT FOR BEING SO AWESOME!

Uuuuuuuuuuuh,

I have more homework than I have time to do. Or brain capacity.

I wonder if anyone has ever died because their brains, like, literally exploded while working on Math 20p. Err. If I weren’t such an over achieving brat I would totally be out of that class. Like, in a snap. I hate it. Maybe (God, I wish) I didn’t need it for graduation.

This homework bites. I’m saving my English for last. We have to write a script. But I like writing. And Social will be really easy…

I cannot wait to graduate. Then I will never, ever have to take Math ever again.

I rented Bridget Jones Dairy two last night, but I had like barely popped it into the DVD player, and Nikki asked me to hang out. Which was awesome- I love hanging out spontaneously.

But now I have this movie, that I’m not to enthused to watch, due back tonight at nine. And I spent five bucks on it. I should watch it…

I have a lot of homework to do though … and I’m greasy and gross. And I want to go buy a new book. Maybe I can get it out of the Library. It’s the sixth and final of the series, but it’s still only out in hardcover. I have the first five, but they are in paperback.

I can’t wait to read it. It’s the Mediator series by Meg Cabot. Seriously, read them, you’ll love them!

Or maybe you wont. But if you’re anything like me you will.

I should totally start on my homework. And my parents left for the city, but they said that they wanted the bathroom cleaned. It’s already past one, and I only left my room ‘cause I accidentally left my glasses in my bathroom. I didn’t feel like putting in my contacts. One of them was dried out, anyway.

Or I’ll check the Calgary Library site … maybe it will tell me if my book is in…

And then I could make an emergency book run, and come home, do my homework while watching my movie, and then read all night.

Brilliant!

Of course, I should have a shower, eat and get dressed sometime.

Eeeek. Times a-waistin’! I have to get this book! Like, now.

Don’t you find it awkward to start a new journal? Like, you have to introduce yourself to a computer screen or something- It’s not like I can go “Hi Journal, How are you?” Bah. It’s like I have to write a mini biography about myself right at the beginning.

Um, I’m sixteen (almost seventeen).

I have red and black hair. It’s naturally curly, but I work really, really hard to make it straight.

I really like to write- like, it’s my favourite pass-time- and reading too. Anything, novels, fictionpress.com, fanfic, short stories, magazines. All of it.

English, Social Studies Art and Band. That would be my perfect term. My least perfect term would be French, Math, Chem and Bio. Gah.

J.K.Rowling is a goddess. I worship the paper that she writes on. 'nuf said.

My other idol is Meg Cabot. Seriously, everything she writes is really ... I dunno, happy. I like happy endings. I also love Helen Fielding- Bridget Jones Diary and Bridget Jones the Edge of Reason are amazing. The movies were really good too.

I’m a huge klutz/dork. I end up laughing at myself a lot…

I play guitar; I used to play in a band. I still play with people, but it’s mostly just jamming.

I have two siblings; two parents a cat, a dog, a fish and a hermit crab.

I’m not really ’New-Age’ but I do believe in ghosts/spirits/the things that go bump in the night.

I believe in Heaven- or a heaven like place, but I’m not sure that I believe in hell. I go to a Christian Church, but I think I’m more Baha’i than anything else. At least, that’s what a teacher told me once. I guess it’s true. I believe in everything a little bit.

Religion/Faiths is one of my favourite topics (If ya’ couldn’t tell…)

I want to travel. I want to go to Ireland, and Great Britain, and Japan, and Spain, and Greece, and Italy. Then maybe I can die happy.

I was thinking of becoming a teacher after high-school … (God, that’s only a year and tree months away.) But I also really, really like to write. I’d love to be a novelist.

I have no boyfriend. Because I am pathetic and destine to be alone. Or something.

I don’t have a lot of close friends. I have a lot of friends, and I don’t really have any enemies- but I tend not to get close to people.

And…

Um, well that’s all I can think of right now. So I’m going to post this lick-a-tee-split, and then get on with my real, probably boring, post.