Julianne (jewelianne) wrote,
Julianne
jewelianne

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Hava Nagila!!!!

Since Krysta and I are moving soon (next week or something, I should really figure it out...) we did some packing tonight. I was really being ambitious about it last night, planning on packing everything up today except for my notebook and the clothes I would need for the rest of the week. Instead I packed a few books, and my sweaters. (remember this is me, I have a lot of sweaters.) But we got distracted a lot...because you know when you're going through stuff you find all sorts of interesting things-such as the cards that we dumped in the closet after some drunken party, old cards and notes from high school, yearbooks, and a bunch of James shit that I'm very tempted to start a bon fire with. Krysta even gave me her "I ♥ Jesus "pin. I'm considering wearing it everyday and telling people I got it at my first communion, even though I'm not a Catholic...But most interesting of all was my really really old stories, from elementary school.

This story here is sort of long, and slightly disturbing, since I was probably nine or ten when I wrote it. I was trying to write a hard luck story about a girl who only wanted a pumpkin. Krysta thought it was great, and that I should show it to a psychologist to see what they say about me as a child. I really wasn't sick or haunted, I was just trying to be dramatic...anyways don't make fun of me because I'm very sensitive, and leave me comments on whether you think I should finish it...lol. Oh yeah, and I never got to the part about the cursed pumpkin who wanted to be carved up into a jack-o-latern...(maybe he was sadistic....)




Part 1- How it began!
Once not long ago their was a little girl named Lisanne. Who, athough verry poor wanted to particeapate with hoilday games. She wasen't always so poor. Once four years ago when she was 6 her parents were in a car axcdent. This when comeing home from a movie. This is what Lisanne was told happened, "Your parents car was hit by a truck. From the side. Your mother who was closer died almost imedyitly. Your father just drove off. No record of anyone seeing him again." Lisanne didn't want to go to a orphan age so she ran off one night with her things.

"Well how about a drink of cold water," said Max.
"Just one freebee," asked Lisanne, "In fact, I'll pay you back, pleese/"
"Oh alright, it's on the house."
"One rootbeer float comeing up," Max owned a soda shop.
Lisanne never payed any one back. She could't! And she begged everyone for "freebees." But Max was a nice man. He was in his mid twentys. Max set a rootbeer float (three times bigger than what he gave to anyone else) on the counter.
"I wish I had a pumpkin," said Lisanne.
"They have a pumkin patch giving them out free, by Bob's babershop."
Lisanne jumped up leveing her half finshed soda behind.

Lisanne, now ten, wore old clothes and always had a grim look. Her hair was black, eye's were blue. Even when she smiled she looked sad and grim.
She was full of hurt. Why didn't Daddy come home, she wondered over and over.Mostly her eyes were sad and gray. Even though they were supposed to be blue.
***
No one had wanted to take her in. "They all hate me," Lisanne thought. Her first new home was with her Aunt. NOw it would not have been so bad if her aunt didn't have 7 wining(whining), crying, yelling, screming, kids. Lisanne was barely 6 but still the oldest. Her Aunt Jess's husband had recently died. (Lots of deaths in this family-watch out kids) So Lisanne was often left in charge. But afterawhile she began to like them.
The children loved her, she read storys and made snacks. Sang to them and drew and wrote and played her flute. (no one else we know played the flute...) And she loved them, and her aunt.
Her Aunt Jess loved Lisanne like her own daughter. So she was vry upset when she had to send Lisanne away to foster parents. Lisanne vowed never to love anyone again. So here she was moody, and grouchy. She hardly talked or ate. And often she stayed in her room.
She refuse to go out. And after a while got to thin, and had to go to the docter. After that she only ate junk. After that she never talked.

Her foster parents who loved her took her to a shycyitrist. "She'll come out of it," they all said. But 2 months later she still didn't. Finally, they gave up. Inside Lisanne wanted to yell and shout and call her old friends. But she didn't. One mourning she sat reading a book ansd she said "A cat," pointing to a pitchure of a black and white cat. "A cat! A cat!" she began screaming. Her foster mother came running. "yes yes! It is!" Quickley she called her husband who came running.

Chapter 2- Marie
It was late April. Mr. Preen (Lisanne's foster father.) worried about where his wife was. Then the door opened in walked Mrs. PREEN (for some reason 'Preen' is in capital letters at this part.) with a screaming four year old. "She's ours Charlie, ours! Her name is Marie." Instaly they loved Marie more. But Lisanne sensed it. After awhile they loved thier foster daughter's the same. Yet Lisanne hated Marie. Untill Mariie broght a boket of wild flowers and soon she did the same as she ahd with Aunt Jess's children. On Lisanne's seventh birthday which was Halloween Mrie stole a candy bar-but Lisanne took the blame so she could't go trick-or-treating. Untill Mrs. Preen gave in. Then November first Marie took the blame for pouring water on herself. (Lisanne ahd done it, by acident.)

So the girls always help each other out of troble. At Christmas break marie and Lisanne decorated the tree. On New Years they had some friends over and watched the ball drop. One night the Preens left the girls home. Lisanne got a drink when she came back Marie had been bashed over the head.


Okay, that's it for now kids, but believe me there is plenty more where that came from, and it's far more exciting and heart wrenching. The first part had a lot of exposition shit. But just in case you don't think you can stand the suspense until I get around to posting the rest of this, I'll have you know the next chapter is tittled "Murder!" I know, so thriling you can't wait for the end. Too bad, my fingers are cramping.
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