Post by neravaira on Jan 27, 2008 1:24:50 GMT
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Would You Mind if I Killed You?
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Petra was not having a very good week, let alone a very good day. Just last month, her close friend and roommate, Gwenyth, announced she would be leaving the state by the end of the year...was that why Petra came here? She [Gwenyth] had apparently found a marvelous job opportunity in Seattle that could not be passed up. According to her, it was the chance of a lifetime, and she wasn’t about to hand it away to someone else on a golden platter. Though she had apologized to Petra profusely, the latter only grudgingly forgave. Gwenyth’s brash behavior, after all, had caused Petra a lot of unnecessary suffering. Now, the young lass had to search for a new residence here in the middle of nowhere.... Since, Gwenyth owned the apartment they had shared, the friend held the only voice in the household. That meant that when Gwenyth planned on selling her apartment, Petra had absolutely no say in the matter. To be honest, Gwenyth had actually been a pretty good sport to her by giving her a place to stay without any extra housing charges. In fact, all Petra had to do was help wash the dishes and clean up after herself once and a while, which was really not a problem at all. There were a great many times when Petra acknowledged her pal’s pure heart. Today, however, was not one of them. It just wasn’t fair for Gwenyth to notify Petra so late about her plans, as it was near impossible for her to find a place to stay within a friggin’ month. What would she do about her puppy, Magnolia too? Not all housing districts allow pets, you know. Forcing her to this dump of a place.
If she had a family, she would return to them. Unfortunately, the only members she considers ‘family’ have either disappeared off the face of the earth, or died and gone to the Heavens above. Aside from her, the only person remaining of the immediate Ivanovs was her mother. Not that Petra considered her much of a mother anymore. Even as a child, Petra and her mother never got along. Mrs. Ivanov felt her daughter was an irresponsible, rash, ungrateful, and petulant tomboy, one who spoke too much her own thoughts. She never tried to understand Petra, just constantly pushed her and the rest of the old family members to be something they weren’t. Eltsina Ivanov Fara was a superficial b*tch who cared nothing more than appearances and looking good in front of the public. Petra blamed her for the unexpected divorce and never seeing her beloved father again. In a way, Petra also blamed Eltsina for pushing her good-natured older brother too hard, resulting in his unforeseen passing. Without her father and brother to keep her spirits high, Petra had to deal with her mother alone, who didn’t seem much affected by anything except for her own self concerns. Thus, Petra rebelled against Eltsina, first refusing to change her last name to her mother’s maiden name, and then acting like an improper b*tch in front of one of her newer stepfathers. She’d even purposefully make a mess of things by throwing items around and smashing them, something she only did when she was incensed. When things got too rough in the household, Petra decided to run away. She stole some money from her mother and new father’s safe, packed a suitcase full of her clothes and belongings, and left in the middle of the night without further warning. Her mother never went to look for her, and Petra never went back. Hell, she’d never go back. Whether she’d admit it or not, the memories were just too painful there for her to bear.
Now, it wasn’t a coincidence that today was, supposedly, her older brother’s twenty-fourth birthday. Most people assumed that she’d have gotten over it by now, which she, in a way, did. She managed to continue her life without him all right, didn’t she? Yes, yes she did. Nevertheless, she felt the responsibility every year to honor Dmitriv’s birthday, even when her mother wouldn’t. Most any other day, she’d give him a slight prayer, but not today. Today, his death only added to the bulk of her troubles. Petra, you see, was good at fooling people with the strong, fierce mask she donned. But in the end, it was just a mask. She was the sort of girl who dwelled on the past; she couldn’t let it go for her life. It was already bad enough for Petra to mourn over Dmitry’s death – which she still believes could have been preventable – but it was even worse now that she had to move here because of Gwenyth moving a month ago...well...at least she told her she was leaving. It was like adding two extra gunshots in the heart of an already dying man. Evidently, she had had a bad week. Gwenyth’s pathetic decision didn’t help her much. Moving here really worried her, what if she couldn't find any acting jobs here? Maybe she should give up on acting. Seriously, it wasn’t as though she were a bad actress either, let alone a bad singer. Perhaps that was why so many had told her to go for it, to let both her acting and musical talents shine through. Doubtful as she was, though, Petra couldn’t help but think that they had been only just saying that to make her feel better and not as useless. In fact, they probably just wanted to jack some more money off Petra.
Now, Magnolia had also been a bit sick lately, and Petra herself wasn’t feeling so hot. It was cold – freezing, as she walked down the sandy beach. It had started snowing late last night, and she was already feeling a slight itch in her throat. Petra fiqured she would have to find a place to stay soon. To get her spirits in a much higher place than it was now, Petra decided to go to the bar. Drinking was a habit she couldn’t kick when she was under the weather; any other time, she would refuse a drink right there and then, but not when she was so distressed. When she was upset, alcohol was the only cure. Wait, no, check that: Getting drunk was the only cure. Though she usually ended up regretting what happened early the next morning, she was impetuous enough not to give a d**n about the consequences whenever she had the impulse to drink her heart out. Besides, she was a smart girl, and knew how to get out of bad scenarios even when drunk. Usually, at least. Right now, Petra, obviously intoxicated, was staggering out of the with Coconut Grove some devilish-looking guys. They were apparently trying to drag her into their van, but Petra, with some sense still instilled in her, was evading their grasp and pushing them aside. She was losing the battle, of course, but that was the least of her worries. When they grabbed her again, she nudged one hard in the stomach before another finally managed to grasp both her hands.
“Gerroffme,” she stammered, her eyes hardly open as she continued to wiggle out of their reach.
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Would You Mind if I Tried To?
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