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//...//=Song lyrics by t.A.T.u
If the story is too long, but you read the first part and like it and feel the need to recommend even though you don't want to read it all, leave a comment at the bottom saying "Purple mini skirts rock", and do whatever you want. Reccomend me or not, but just give me more comments so I feel loved. LOL!!!!!!!!
(Besides....purple miniskirts dooooooo.....)
//How did we ever go this far?
You touch my hand and start the car
And for the first time in my life
I'm crying... //
I felt her fingers close over my own as the engine revved to life in the old, little black car we had bought together, staring out at the night as the world spun under my feet. On my right sat the once warm, welcome place that I had called home, the screen to my room ripped open in order to get the few possessions I wanted to take out without having to cue my parents in on my sudden departure. On my left sat a blond haired angel, white hair luminescent in the moonlight as the clock struck the witching hour of midnight. On the back of the car was attached a U-Haul, which we had managed to snag right before closing six hours ago, a minimal amount of clothing and belongings from each of us stuffed in the back, as well as some things we could pawn. In a pouch on my lap sat jewelry, some real, some fools gold. All worth a few grand put together.
Inside of that quiet home lay two people, one of them I cared about, the other one who would be dead had I not learned at an early age that murder was a bad thing. My father and my stepmother, both in respective order. My dear father, who loved her so much. And her, who hated me with such a passion she was threatening to leave him. Constantly calling me names, making me feel horrible. Mental abuse. Quickly, I swiped at the tears in my eyes as the car started down the road, the house leaving my site, causing me to turn and crane my neck to watch my child hood disappear in a view cropped by an old white storage unit marked in gaudy red. I had begged for emancipation, yet they had always refused. Now, she was planning on leaving him because of me. He was already so sad. He needed her.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the nasty things she had said to me that night, tears flowing their salty trail of sin down my cheeks as I suppressed another sob, lifting my shirt to my mouth to quell the sudden hyperventilation that threatened to hit hard. I felt a soothing hand on my back as I clutched the shirt. All because she suspected who I was with. My mother…she couldn’t stand it. My father…my poor father…all he had wanted was one daughter to be normal…
I leaned heavily on the shoulder of my fiancée, clinging to her as I forced the wrenching cries back, instead inhaling shaky breaths and taking the comfort I could get from her.
//Are we in space? Do we belong?
Someplace where no one calls it wrong
And like the stars we burn away
The Miles //
I gazed up from the place I sat in the car, idly chewing the long nail of my thumb in deep thought, the night drooping sadly about us. A clear sky left open the beautiful sadness of the heavens for all to be seen, and was riddled with the burning tears of angels as the meteor shower fell into the atmosphere, perfectly clear in the dark, thick blackness of the desolate desert. No noise of the city was left, being now past Las Vegas, between Overton and St. George as the night began to turn to the still pitch hours of early morning. Next to me lay the blond haired angel, hair glowing in the moon, drifting in her sleep in fitful spurts, using one of the pillows we had pulled out of the U-Haul from the back. Soon, I would wake her and ask her to take my space, catching some sleep and rehearsing my story for the Motel 8 owner in St. George to explain my fake ID and social security number, as well as our early morning arrival. Where I was from, who we were…I turned my gaze back to the road.
It hadn’t been hard for us to just leave. For a while now we had been holding a back up plan, and had paid good money to receive the fake information. Shockingly easy, I thought to myself, gazing out to the heavy night, each shooting star burning into the atmosphere as the angels cried for me, for the tears had already drained out of my soul, and I found myself dry, empty. What was the point in dwelling, I thought to myself. What was the point in feeling? My parents had already proven nothing was constant. If the love of a parent fades, then what else can last?
Around me, the thick blackness provided the haven for me it had for years now, wrapping me in its sheath with a mothers touch and calming the torment of my soul. The road stopped at the highbeams in front of us, the little mid markers seeming to rise, glowing out of the blackness, like the stars. All around us, the land and the sky ceased to be two separate entities, forming together to create a dark pool of oblivion, giving a feeling of such perfect aloneness, all away from the prejudice and hate. Alone in space. My hand reached out for her, finding the one she held clutched around my jacket, sliding my fingers into hers. Here in space, we were away from the worries of the world. Away from the sadness. Away from it all. Here, in the darkness, for once in my life, we belonged, with nobody to look at us, and nobody to hate us.
I was tempted to pull over and tell her we were home, but I knew it was stupid. When morning came, this place would be as any other. Merciless. Filled with hate and acrid words that ate like acid at the soul, the environment taken over by the torment that would always be around as long as their was one Homo sapien left to hate.
//How did we ever get this far?
It shouldn't have to be this hard
Now for the first time in my life
I'm flying //
“Zoe! What are you doing?” she called, using the nickname for me only she knew. I laughed, sliding out of the window even more, hanging almost half out of it now as we drove down the high way, heading for Salt Lake City to catch our flights to Europe. To leave the past forever behind. Desperate, but amused fingers clutched at my shirt as I looked inside, the wind whipping at my face as I slid back in the car.
“What are you doing?” she demanded again, the smile on her face clear, small fingers still wrapped around my shirt and holding to it tightly.
Lifting those same digits to my lips, I kissed them one by one, whispering against them; “I’m flying.” Dark black eyes turned to me, blinking perplexed, before I pulled away and slid out of the window again. This time, whether it be from amusement, or just giving up from sheer knowledge of my stubborn attitude, she let me, watching as I hooked my feet and upperbody on the seat and spread my arms, letting the wind dance through my body as my eyes closed, hearing the roar of wind scream in my ears.
It still amazed me that we had gotten to this. That here we were, people looking everywhere for us in Las Vegas, with our hair dyed and a different clothing style, running to Europe. Lifting my head back, I felt the wind cause my eyes to water—-or at least it was the excuse I had decided to use—-and reveled in the irony of it. From one phone conversation that had lasted long enough for me to inform her I hated her, to where we were now was a long leap. Just because I had fallen in love with her. I had refused to live up to the standards of my parents…to be the perfect little girl. To be the retribution for their mistakes with my two sisters.
I didn’t have to live for them anymore.
A weight lifted off of my shoulders, and I felt a laugh bubble up from my chest. It was gone. The pain, the despair, the depression. No longer did I have to come home and have to worry whether a stepmother who changed moods more than underwear was going to love me or hate me. No longer did I have to feel tears of shame well up every time I wrote a good poem and my father lectured me about how I should do school instead of poetry. No longer did I have to hear my moms fake promises or deal with her family…deal with the desire to hurt them for what they had done to all of us. I was free. I was free.
Slowly, I slid back into the car, feeling a smile dance largely onto my lips, my hair ruffled and sticking up straight in its short design.
“Why aren’t you still out there?” she asked curiously, her own lips quirking up, catching the virus of my happiness.
“Because…I just realized I don’t have to be out there to fly anymore.”
//How did we ever go this far?
You touch my hand and stop the car
And for the first time in my life
I'm crying //
“Lover…lover, wake up. We’re here,” she said, shaking my shoulder slightly to snap me out of my daze. A small noise escaped my throat, eyes fluttering open to look around. Soft fingers danced over my palm as she shut down the car, and I could hear the bustling noise of the St. George air port fill my mind as I stretched, black sunglasses resting lightly upon my nose. I glanced to her, noting the oriental look of her with the newly dyed black hair, missing the white color it had been before.
“What?” she wondered, climbing out of the blue truck we had rented with some scrap yard people after selling them the black clunker. Lugging out the suitcases, we tossed the keys to the man who had accompanied us, smiling to him and waving as we began our trek to the air port.
“I like you better as you were,” I said, a bit nostalgically, my mind trailing back to holding her on my big bed back at home—-no-—the house I had lived at before, running my fingers through her pale hair and inhaling the distinct scent of violets and her shampoo, feeling the way her body would press smoothly to mine as we whispered sweet nothings as quietly as possible to avoid being heard.
“I’m not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or an insult. You don’t like me now?” she demanded teasingly. I laughed.
“The hair!” I replied. “I meant the hair.” Looking around at the unfamiliar landscape, we made our way through the crowds and presented our tickets and luggage to the check in, thankfully empty with our early arrival. From Salt Lake to Paris, non stop. We would have gone somewhere else, but it was the only place that didn’t like America where we could actually speak the language somewhat fluently, and it was the cheapest we could find. Sighing, I wiped my eyes, trying not to cry, seeing the water well up as well in her dark orbs from under the fake glasses as we finished check in. I took her hand, soothing the back of it with my thumb, forcing strength in me so I may comfort her. She was, after all, my angel, and needed me. This was how it should be. This was what we had wanted.
//Are we in love? Do we deserve
To bear the shame of this whole world?
And like the night we camouflage denial//
“Eh…Madame…donne-moi deux chocolates et les fraises, s’il vous plait?” I requested in lilting French, the woman smiling in relief that I had taken the time to request the food in her language, other than making her strain to understand another word of English. Next to me, the sleepy goddess moaned, her head nuzzling my chest as she looked up some towards me, the stewardess going to do her work.
“What did you ask for?” she murmured, pulling the airline blanket up around us tighter.
“I asked her for two hot chocolates and some strawberries,” I replied, watching Europe in the night, the lights flashing and flaring, awaiting the pastels of Paris that I was sure would arrive soon. “Go back to sleep. It should take a few minutes. I’ll wake you when she gets here,” I said, feeling the beautiful girl nod and slowly drift again, her body becoming wonderfully heavy on mine as she let herself fall into the realm of oblivion, completely trusting in my arms. My head rested against the window, watching the world around us slip by. This was our life; everything we had known before was dead now. Our families, our friends…everything. All those memories scattered like drizzling rain below us to fall and lie in its silent grave of puddles and tears. But like that rain, it would form again. Soon we would have another family. Another life. A smile pulled at my lips.
The food came, and I fed my sleepy lover a bit, before letting her drift again in my arms. She had been awake so long before, having taken care of me and having driven most the way due to my sadness. Now, she needed me to be strong. And soon, soon we would be strong for each other.
For now I allowed myself to be numb to my own pain, denying its existence, letting myself be in the realm of not even realizing what was happening. Soon I would have to face it. And it wouldn’t be long till we landed in Paris, coming down from our flight above the world and above the problems to settle in our new, rainy home. But until then, I lied to myself, telling myself that it wasn’t Paris we were landing in, but home, where my parents would be waiting the gates to engulf me in their arms and kiss my lover on the cheek, welcoming her to my family. To a place where I’d have never left, and my step mom would smile brightly upon me like she did when I was younger. Until we reached Paris, it seemed that this was the perfect lie for a certain person, and I was the certain person for that perfect lie. I could let myself believe that until we landed. I stretched and yawned.
The pastels of Paris came in to view.
For those of you who don't have a lot of experience in the fanfic world, this is called a songfic. A story written based on a song, with the story between the lines or verses or whatever. this is a story about me and my girlfriend...something that almsot happened because of an occurence a while ago. Not a true story. The song belongs to t.A.T.u and is called "Stars"
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