Welcome to Gaia! ::

*After scanning over most of Maximos' post and reading just the end of it, she merely stares in utter horror.*
Oh... my... dear... gods... that was...
*Blinks, unable to find any words to describe the horrific ending.*

She was by no means a beautiful girl. At least, what most would consider beauty. She and her sister (who had happened to get all the 'good looking' genes) led a mostly abused childhood, having been drugged, molested, and in several different shelters and foster homes. Though they had been through much, they managed to stay close, and they managed to become somewhat decent people.

Let me introduce you to our unpretty heroine, the elder of these two girls. Her name is, well, let's call her Jean, and she was 21 at the time this story was accumulated. What has she done with her life? She has tried to make it better for those around her, to the best of her ability. She has always had an abstract life style, and she chose the same for her career. Jeannie is a caregiver for people with mental and physical dysabilities, and a few days a week, she goes to a shelter in the downtown region of her city, and volunteers her time cooking in the kitchen, and playing with the children there. She consistantly has different color hair... as of the date this story was written, its half fire engine red, and half shadow black. Her septum and lip are pierced. Her makeup is always dark, but to everyone around her- the smile is always bright. She is very good at keeping things inside, its something she learned to do while going through the abuse I mentioned earlier.

She is a band t-shirt and jeans sort of girl.

I dont think I mentioned yet, that Jean is slightly heavy set. Some people dont think this takes from the blue of her eyes, or the lightness of her skin. Some people dont think this takes from her personality. The fact that she would do anything at all in her power to help someone less fortunate than her. But sadly enough, most do.

Four months ago, Jean met someone. Someone that changed her life forever. His name... his name means nothing in the scheme of things. Yet, he was amazing. He wore all black. But not the typical gothich black. He never accessorized, he didnt wear makeup. He liked the black because of the life style he lead. He was homeless, by choice. He wanted no part of a capitalist government, and so he chose to live outside the system to the best of his ability.

Jean met our homeless anarchist at the aforementioned shelter where she volunteered, on December 18th. It was her first day there. She came in soaking. It had rained, and she was having some trouble locating the place. Road construction had made it hard to locate. Upon entering, she was told that the outside outreach she was there for was canceled, but they were going to meet at a local punk show later that night, and she was more than welcome to wait inside, out of the rain.

She took her converse off, which had been soaked through, and put her mittens on her feet, which were freezing. A beautiful little girl, who Jean would in her later visits come to know as Zell, cane up and asker her what were wrong with her feet. Jean responded- 'I replaced them with hands. Doesnt that look silly?' Zell laughed, and skipped off, telling some of her other little friends she had made about this silly hand footed girl.

At this point, Jean looked up towards the kitchen. She could see a guy in there- he wasnt the most handsome. But he was striking. Wearing all black. He came out a few minutes later, and shook her hand. She could feel a sudden electricity in her stomach. An electricity that shot from the top of her head to her glove covered toes and back. He had beautiful hands. Long, thin and slender. His eyes were so dark you couldnt see the pupils. His hair was slightly wavy, and dark black, just like the rest of him. He seemed to be adorned in black. He swept away, off to the kitchen, and she got something out of her purse, and scribbled down 'he is beautiful- December 18th'.

I wouldnt call what she experianced love at first sight. I'd call it more of a fatal mistake.

From this moment on, this nameless boy and Jean were inseprable.

They would spend their days sneaking into movies, dumpster diving for bagels to feed ducks at a park, going to the library to talk or read or play online. (Surprisingly, our guy in black was the one that showed Jean this site. She liked it alot.) They would ride the train, carve things into benches, share good quotes from famous or dead people, one time they on a whim took a trip to Arizona to retrieve Jean's sister. He met her family, who also lived there, and they were impressed by his strong will, and ability to lead the life he believes in.

Jean and he did everything together, except anything along the lines of intimate. They would hold hands, sleep in the same bed and wake up side by side in one anothers arms... they would play with each others hair, and sit side by side consistantly.
Our girl did alot for this boy. He confessed to her once that he missed the radio- which was a huge part of his life before he chose to live this way. She went out and got him a portable radio. The little shed where he squatted was often cold and damp (she had spent the night there with him once), so she brought in a blanket when he wasnt there to keep him warmer. And- might I add that this wasnt just any blanket- it was the last one her great grandmother made before passing away. It was very dear to her heart. One time, when he jumped a fence, he gashed his arm. Jean got some neosporin and bandaids, and took care of it till it healed. She tried her hardest to quit smoking- he didnt like it. She would sit with him in the shelter till late at night while he did odd jobs, just to be moral support- even if this meant she missed the bus and had to walk ten miles home. There was nothing this girl wouldnt do for this boy.

After four months of he and her, their personalities seemed to merge, and they confessed their love to one another. However, there was one fateful error. He told her that he could never be any sort of intimate with her, because he was good looking and she wasnt. He confessed to her, that one moring apon waking next to her side, he wished that she had looked like her sister, so he could have sex with her. He said that he was in love with Rachel- but she was to good for him. Which was quite a clever way to say again, that she just wasnt pretty enough. He just couldnt look past her exterior.

This girl Jean. She had never been in love with anyone before all of this. And she doesnt intend to ever again. Doesn't she wish more than anyone that your outside reflected the person you are inside. If that were the case, she wouldnt be to hard on the eyes.
It was just yesterday that he said all these things to her. She places no blame on her sister. Her sister is the most beautiful girl, inside and out, and if responsiable for nothing but loving her without question. She places no blame on him either. How silly it was of her to expect him to look beyond where nobody else had before. She has taken a day to reflect on all of this, and has decided- if he, this boy who confessed his love for her, couldnt truly love her- then who else should she expect to?

Tonight Jean is going to go home, and pick out a lovley outfit. Maybe one with some sentamental value. She will put on some makeup, and her favorite jewelry. She will pick out a song she paticularly loves. Maybe one that matches her story a bit. One that talks about perserviering hardships. She will take alltogether to many pills, and go to sleep forever.

She believes that in the afterlife, your juged by content of character, and she thinks she will fit in better there.

Meet Johnny.
At age 16 he's decided to give up.
His parents are divorced.
They both don't give a ******** smokes pot.
He drinks a lot.
Been in the 8th grade 4 years and counting.
Not going to pass.
Never shows up for class.
Joined an American subculture.
He's now a goth.
Mom claims it's just a stage.
Dad is too busy with his little tramps.
Johnny cuts himself.
The pain makes him feel good.
One night Johnny was all alone.
Mom was out of town.
Dad was out on a date.
Johnny's friends went to a concert.
He had no money to go.
Sitting at home, sad and depressed, Johnny took his own life.
Two slices of a dull knife.
His face was everywhere.
People claimed to know him.
He was finally recognized.
Johnny was a star.
All it cost was his life.

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A child of five years old ran through a wheat field that was about an acre big. It was his family's land, and it made the small child ever so happy. The sun let down its golden rays on the field causing it to create a warm sunny day, and in the wheat field it was a spectacular sight. The boy laughed like a small child would as he carelessly ran through the stalks with arms flailing. He was heading towards the woods even though, the boy was told to not go there until he was old enough. So he always ran through the field right up to the edge of the forest and peered in, but never crossing the tamed ground into the unconquered brush of the wood.

The boy stuck his tongue out as he reached the end of the wheat and laughed again. He saw a stick, and what possibilities that held for a child. He grabbed it and then began pretending it was sword. He even made the little swishy sounds as he whipped it around fighting off 'billions of deadly assassins.' The child then stopped as he successfully vanquished all his foes, and put his hands on his hip and made the most triumphant face he could muster, which was ending up looking like he was a tad bit constipated. He then remembered what he came for, the woods.

The boy peered through the brush and saw a squirrel, and to him that was the coolest thing in the whole world, but alas there was no one to show except 'the many dead bodies of assassins lying around.' Then there was movement, real movement, a shadow darting in out of the brush. It was rather big and making feral sounds, the boy was now a bit worried that he had gone a little too far this time. He started to not like this anymore and dropped his 'sword'. He then bolted back into the wheat and his feet carried them as fast as they could, which wasn't too fast. The child could hear whatever it was close behind and actually it seemed all around. His legs were too small to keep up with the pace and he tripped and fell. He hit his knee and skinned the tender flesh. He let out a yell of fright and pain as he heard the shadow circle closer and closer.

The boy's older brother, Tajiki, was working on a wall about two feet high because there had been rumored of beasts attacking farms lately. Then he heard the scream of his brother and its eerie piercing sound. Tajiki yelled for father, as he removed his knife from its sheath at his hip and run towards the source of the scream in the wheat. He knew it was near the woods, so that was where he headed. He heard his little goldy, nick-name for brother because of his blonde hair, crying and throwing a fit. Then he saw him in the wheat, and sighed out of relief. He kneeled down next to his brother and asked what's wrong. The little boy couldn't even speak, just sob, so Tajiki hugged his little goldy.

The boy felt comforted by Takie's embrace and slowly stopped crying, but all of a sudden his older brother stiffened up as something bit him. A red warm liquid ran down the boy's shoulder as Takie cradled him.

What wong Takie?

Tajiki form the words run as he was pulled away from him. The boy didn't know what to do until he saw what was dragging Tajiki. Its fanged mouth was clamped onto his shoulder, piercing the flesh. Its red eyes watching the boy, but it had something to play with now and the boy was not important. Its black coat shimmered in the sunlight, its elongated arms ripping into Tajiki's side, it was a some sort of creature, but the boy only knew it was bad. He ran again towards his house, but heard screams form his sisters and mother as the house was being invaded. The boy's eyes teared up and he closed them as he ran for the barn. He heard his father cry his name, and then a yell of pain. He didn�t look back because he shut his eyes tight and burst through the entrance of the farm. He heard more noises as another wolf-like creature gorged itself on Rose, the family's cow.

Then all of the sudden the child was hit by a claw and flung into the pile of hay in the corner. The boy rolled into the hay unconscious and then continued to roll down the pile. His roll stopped when he hit a wall. He had rolled under a gap in the barn wall and into the shed outside. The wolf creature clawed at the gap, but could not reach the child so it gave up and looked for new and easier prey. The boy had lain there for a full day after he woke up whimpering and shaking, his whole family dead. He was the forgotten child.


To be continued in....The Focused Student