The Tangled Web I Weave

[The Underworld]

Here we go, another return to TPM and another Romantic story...........it is a really nice story (I think)........'The feel good Romance of the year' he he he.


The Tangled Web I Weave

Prologue – Meet Me

Well, it was the first day of school for 1996. I dressed in front of the TV like every past morning, polished my shoes so they looked nice and snazzy. Turning off the new digital television and stashing some money in my wallet, I set off down the road for what would be my first day in Year 5.

Actually, I should be in Year 4, I’m only 9, but I got accelerated because I was intellectually a cut above the rest. In fact, I guess you could say I was quite a few cuts above the rest in many ways. I had my intelligence, my good looks, my style and my riches. Quite a pleasant life.

I breezed into the school gate for the first time in a few weeks, threw my bag over somewhere and headed up to the computer room. Computers here were pretty ****house really, compared to the system I had set up at home. But they do well enough and it’s better than standing outside in the freezing cold kicking a damn ball.

And then the bell goes for start of the day, and there’s the usual ‘beginning of year’ commotion, which takes everybody a while to figure out seeing they’re all so slow and seem to lack a large degree of common sense.
‘Common bloody sense,’ I told someone as they wandered around the building searching for where they were supposed to be.

I found a desk in my new classroom and waited for the rest of the brown cows crowd to get in. People were fussing round about where they would sit, next to their friends and near the window and such. Well I didn’t really care, I don’t really talk to many people – I guess you could say I don’t really have many friends either – but it’s so hard to get to know people who are so hopelessly mundane.

I did have one good friend though, one very good friend by the name of David. If I went out to a movie or to the beach with someone, it was with David. Other than that I kept to myself. My own world I had created was much better than what was going on around me. And even David got on my nerves sometimes. He was always ringing up wanting to do things, when I just wanted to stay alone. Sometimes I just unplugged the damn phone so he couldn’t get on. All in all he was a valuable asset to my life – even though he did tend to be a level lower than me – but that’s to be expected.

And so I, Michael Alonn, strutted home once more, continuing the life and routines I’ve always had. I was happy, no doubt about that, happy and virtually innocent. This was the happy, innocent life of a young Australian boy.

[Chris 2.1]

very interesting. A young boy. The description is absolutly great; we get a picture of a little smarmy 9-year old who loves himself -- pure genius.

Keep it up; interesting to see where this goes.

[Heavenly Sage HLSOE]

A POV that I like! Cool :) But rather short for a prologue, don't you think. A cool, rather erm-what's that word again, ok good fic. I'll be watching this.

[AquaBabe727]

Aww! That's funny! But it's also kinda sad at the same time. I always feel sorry for the characters in a fictional piece that are just slightly off-kilter and have no idea how messed up they are. This kid, Michael, isn't exactly that, but he's still disillusional in a funny sort of way. And arrogant! Pretty cool fic! ^__^

[The Underworld]

To tell you the truth, 'Michael' is actually based a little, but not entirely on me. Basically I used the cynical, arrogant and impatient side of me in the story.

Anyway, we're still in what I might call the 'boring' part of the fic - setting the scene, introducing characters, getting the base events going that can dictate the rest of the fic. But by Chapter 4 or so it should be clear where this is going and we get to the beginning of our long 'journey'.

Here, in a sort of 'summary' of the prologue, is the actual profile of the story, without giving much away.

Fic Profile



Title : The Tangled Web I Weave
Type: Romance
Type 2 : 1st person (POV), past tense
Main Character : Michael Alonn
Storyline: Michael Alonn is a precocious 10 year old already in Year 6, who leads a somewhat selfish and arrogant life towards others. He believes he is the ants pants, intelligent, stylish, handsome and rich - and to some extent it's true. Michael's life is full of routine, but he enjoys it. But it's all turned upside down, and he realises there are some things he can't master - this is the story of his attempts at, search for, and journey of, love. The rest, as I say, is 'his story'. (he he he).

Note : Some parts of the fic are based on a true story.

Chapter One – The Life of an Michael Alonn

‘Good Morning, Alonn Household,’ I said ‘enthusiastically’ into the phone, terribly sarcastically.
‘Yes, I will put her on,’ I said, and yelled for my mother. She came downstairs and asked who it was.
‘That stupid cow Rachel,’ I told her, perhaps a little loudly. Not to worry, I’d made many enemies over the years, another one of mum’s friends couldn’t hurt.

It was a weekend, as per usual things were bloody bedlam around here, my dad had lost his razor, my mother was going through ‘that time of the month’, and my sister was determined to make life at home a living hell. Yes, a typical family, apart from me, the difference being I had some sense.

You see, each member of my family had one quality they called their own, and each prized highly. My mother, she was intelligent (fairly). My dad, he was good looking (sort of). My sister, she had style (the best part of it anyway). But that was it. I possessed all of these qualities.

Anyway, as soon as mum finally got off the phone that morning, it rang again. I dragged myself over to the table where the telephone sat.
‘Good Morning, Alonn Household,’ I said ‘enthusiastically’ into the phone (again), terribly sarcastically (again). It was my David. Good grief.
‘Oh, hello!’ I greeted, hoping it didn’t sound to him like a hippopotamus groaning as it did to me.
‘Just thought you might like to do something today?’ he asked innocently.
I would dearly have loved to have said ‘Yes, I would like to stay home on the computer today’ but I couldn’t bring myself too. That was one of the weak points of me. I needed David. I couldn’t throw him away like I could give anyone else the finger. If I lost David as a friend, I would have none. And that would scare me. I march around the place like it wouldn’t bother me if I ended up on another planet without another living organism on the bloody thing, but when crunch comes to crunch, having no support really scared me. My sister was the same age as me, but she wouldn’t really understand or be any help. So I lived on with David, going through whatever it took to have someone on backup.
‘Oh yeah, sure, what do ya wanna do?’ I replied.
‘Oh, maybe go to the beach, I thought,’ said David.
I kicked the table.
‘Oh yeah, why not, what time?’ I asked, faking my rage and disappointment.
‘Well, we’ll pick you up right now then!’ answered David.
I kicked the table so hard I thought it might break.
‘Alright, see you then’.

And there goes another day, lost to the foolish act of drenching yourself in salt water. Sometimes I wonder why I bother. But the question ‘Why’ is a very deep, intricate philosophy. And perhaps ‘Why’ was the one question I didn’t have all the answers too. It’s all really a bit of a tangled web.
==================================================

Edit Note : All chapters are about that length (short, yeah) but there are quite a few of 'em

[Mew2-formally known as Evee67-]

how many chapters are there gonna be

[The Underworld]

Um, can't be sure, I've only done up to C4, and it's not going to be a 'long' story - but it does encompass 3 years inside the story - though I tend to move along quickly while writing. I'd say around the 25ish mark. Just have to wait and see.

[Gavin Luper]

This is brilliant.

That was blunt, but I couldn't say it any other way. I love a nice, good, biased first-person story, and this has already appealed to me. I decided to browse some stories on here, and I'm thankful I did.

I suppose you're an Aussie, too? I find a lot of the aussies on TPM are really great writers (Mist, CCC, Oz, to name a few) and you are no exception.

I'll keep reading, this is great. Length is no problem and everything looks alright to me at this stage!

Cheers!

[The Underworld]

Yep, Aussie, 'G'day Mate!'

Here is Chapter 2.........

Chapter Two – The 50th Disaster

It was about a month into the first term of school when a horrible realisation was made. It was my mum’s 50th birthday. Perhaps to some this would be some sort of joyous, commemorative celebration, but to me, it was a meeting of ugliness, a gathering of foolishness, and a collaboration of stupidity. An evening of boredom, an experience of embarrassment, a drawn-out, dull-witted, spineless entangling of hopelessness and sheer hell. There’s the kissing, the wine-spilling, and the babies.

I brought along my headphones, a nice book and a ****load of tolerance and patience. It was gonna be a long eight or nine hours – maybe this was one occasion where I actually wished I was out with David at the beach – anything rather than at this nightmare.

Heaps of people say they hate their family, few really mean it. I guess I’m not one of those few. My family are fine people, but it’s hard being so different, being so much ‘better’. Yes I’m trying to be modest here, but honestly, I have no connection with any of the people that are apparently related to me.

I ordered my meal, I never really eat much, food tends to spoil the appearance. I don’t drink any wine, tends to rot the brain cells. I try not to talk to anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary, tends to cramp the style. You get the 3 year olds crawling and drooling beside your chair, you give them a kick and they tend to bawl off somewhere, but basically as little interaction and participation as possible does the trick.

And then the ceremony began. I was asked to M.C the proceedings but graciously declined. So my sister was up there behind the podium, embarrassing the family (or me, just me), blabbing out ums and ars and all sorts of warm and cuddly rubbish. Jokes were cracked, flat jokes (I thought), but the crowd liked it. It wasn’t like me to pass up centre stage, but when you’re getting praise and recognition from a bunch of walruses it really doesn’t count. My dad made a speech, along with my grandparents. And then my sister stood up and looked at me.
‘And now, we’re going to have a few thoughts from Beth’s son, Michael,’ announced my sister Elise.
I stood up like I was being controlled by a force. I had to get up and say something? Well, better to get up there and screw up than to chicken out. This wasn’t even part of the rehearsal anyway. I glared at Elise as I climbed the stairs to the stage, I could tell she’d done this just for her own amusement.
‘Good Afternoon,’ I began, not really caring whether my ‘few words’ sounded stupid, sissy or insulting.
’50. It’s a milestone, ehy. Um, I’ve always thought about the years passing on, what I want to do with my life, what paths I want to take, and ultimately, where I want to be when I’m 50, or 60, or even 80. And mum’s life has been quite an inspiration to that.’

Phew, not so bad so far (I thought). The truth was, my mum’s career as an astrologist couldn’t be further from what I wanted to be.

‘Alright then!’ piped up my Uncle Allan, ‘What’s my fortune for next month?’
‘Oh come on,’ I said, ‘I mean, can’t any of you people tell that I don’t believe in all of that utter crap. Can’t you see I’m totally above that foolish, make-believe nonsense crafted solely for the misguided and depressed? I think these people are idiots, nuts, insane, basketcase, mashugana!’

That comment left an eerie silence and uncomfortable mood for the rest of my speech.

‘And, mum has helped me through a lot of times in my life where I needed support, she’s contributed a lot of helpful and unhelpful suggestions and ideas (mainly unhelpful, I thought to myself). And she’s always retained her positive attitude, and her personality (why I was making this out to be a good point I don’t know) throughout the years. And, well, I’m not going to harp on with this warm cuddly crap, because personally I want to get the hell out of there, but you get the idea. Thankyou, by the way I was never told I was going to be making a speech – I’d like to see any of you manage an impromptu shoe-lace tying.’

I made my way back to my seat, copping a lot of stares and grunts along the way.

Just telling it as it is.

****************

A little later came another announcement from my sister. I could tell it wasn’t something I’d like.
‘And now a message from Father O’Sullivan,’ said Elise.
Oh brother. Not the bloody priest again. He came at the 45th and that was a nightmare. He chose me to bring out some ‘holy water’ and I deliberately dropped the bowl. My mum and dad are religious (very), they go to church every Sunday and I used to get dragged along occasionally, it was never hard to slip out and they eventually gave up.
And his speech consisted of mainly ‘Thankyou Lord yarp yarp yarp’ ‘Christ is with you blah blah blah’ and a ceremony during which I took a very long toilet break.

***************

So then the speeches were over, and it was crowd interaction time, where everyone would chat for hours, eat cake and get drunk. It wasn’t long before my Aunt Ella came up to me with her daughter (my cousin, aged 10 also).
‘You know Michael, your cousin Elizabeth’s the same age as you, and she’s already got a boyfriend. Are you liking any girls yet?’
‘Er, no, afraid not,’ I muttered, thinking what a stupid question that was. We were only ten years old for pete's sake, she’d probably become some sort of strip dancer if she carried on like that.

Yes, people are crazy.

[The Underworld]

Let's keep going..............

Chapter 3 – A Weekend With David

After the 50th Birthday disaster, I was itching to disappear from the country for a few months, but I settled for a weekend at David’s place. I actually called him up for the first time, begging for refuge from this hell hole.

David was extra glad to take me in this time, I could sense it, and I had no idea why. Maybe he’d managed to get his hands on a new Pokèmon trading card, or he’d got himself a new ‘cool-looking graze’, or something just as stupid.

I didn’t even ask that time, I just took off from home as fast as possible, bringing nothing. Maybe I should’ve prepared myself slightly better, because this visit was going to involve something very unexpected, something very unusual, and something, ultimately, very life-changing.

Hurriedly I bustled into David’s place, grabbed a refresher and absent-mindedly sat down on my usual comfy chair. I heard a shout behind me and jumped up again, turned round to see that in my haste I hadn’t seen that there was a girl already sitting in the chair.

‘You don’t have a sister, David,’ I said as a statement not a question, then turned to the girl, ‘So a) Who the hell are you, b) You’re in my chair.’ She gave me a look of disgust. Quite frankly to me she was an intruder and I didn’t see why I should treat her any differently.

‘That’s Sophie, my girlfriend,’ said David.

I felt myself fallback into something very wet and then it all blacked out…………


David’s parents weren’t very happy I smashed the fish tank. The fish weren’t very happy either. David’s ‘girlfriend’ wasn’t very happy that I’d talked to her like I did. David wasn’t very happy that we couldn’t go the beach that day. My parents weren’t very happy I had fainted. And I wasn’t very happy that David had a girlfriend. Overall, it was a very unhappy day – with the only bright side that I got back home that day. But even then I couldn’t enjoy watching TV or playing computer games. I knew why. The whole situation with David’s ‘girlfriend’ had shaken the beans down inside. All over the place I had seen young people with boyfriends and girlfriends and such. In family, out in the street, and now so close to me I felt like I was under attack. But it wasn’t an attack, it was pressure. And another realisation. (God I hate those realisations). Time was pacing by. I was growing up. Things were changing around me, important things. If David was heading that way, I probably was too. No longer did I fear the opposite sex as much – but it still didn’t feel right. Me? The most sane, down-to-earth, independent and proper juvenile in the galaxy? No way. Couldn’t happen. Now I was getting worried and worked up.

We’d just have to wait and see.

[Gavin Luper]

I did reply to chapter 2, but obviously it didn't go through properly, sorry! Anyhow, nice chapters for both, but something seems a bit odd to me. Michael is only ... what, 10 years old? As is David? Then what the hell is with David having a girlfriend at that age LMAO! At that age ... ewww ... they have no idea!

Ah well, still, it's your story! I'll continue reading!

[mistysakura]

No offense to any 10-year-olds around here, but I think that people under 12 who have girl/boyfriends are just trying to impress their friends. Or otherwise, to prove that they're mature.

Back to the story. This is obvously going to be really good. It's realistic enough, for one thing. I like original characters, like Michael from this fic and Sal from LVH. They aren't just the typical teenager you find in books like Harry Potter. They're not perfect, and that's how I like them.

Hope the nxt chapter comes up soon.

[The Underworld]

Well you know, you'd be surprised, I was in year 5 (that's age 10 - 11) when we all started liking girls/boys but whether we got 'lucky' or not was a different story (people claimed so - but).

Of course, nothing was that serious then but just a couple of years later everything changes - I'm 12 and I've 'got someone' -it's not just to show off either (though that tends to be a nice side effect).

Well enough of my bizarre personal life.........let's hear about someone elses..........with Chapter 4.............

Chapter 4 – Amanda

I walked into the door of my classroom (late), more heartlessly than usual. It slammed backwards and knocked over the bin while I strode down to my seat, sending a few chairs head-over-heals on the way. There was a piece of chalk on my disk which I proceeded to throw at the blackboard. Only it didn’t hit the blackboard. It hit a girl in my class.

But not to worry, I thought to myself as I watched her rub the spot where the chalk hit her………then look around for the culprit………then swiftly glide back to her seat………brush back her hair and *** I smacked myself out of it. I was gazing at her mindlessly – entranced – very strange. Especially when I had last night’s homework to do. I got it out and concentrated very hard till recess.

Coming back after recess, I bustled up the stairwell daydreaming of being on a cruise…………footloose and carefree…………mmmm………it was night time and I went back to my cabin………on my bed there was someone………OW! I came back to my senses suddenly to see I’d walked into the girl I’d thrown chalk at this morning. Amanda. Her blonde hair was entangled in my face. I brushed it away and strode off again.
‘Hey, watch it, stupid,’ she called out.

At lunch time I browsed through the numerous gadgets in my bag; a walkman; a palm computer; and my digital camera. It was a nice day for some photos, so I took out the digital camera and explored the scene. In the carpark I noticed a ‘L’ symbol on a teacher’s car – ha ha – learner and loner – I got a shot of that. Then I got took one of some nasty graffiti on the toilet wall (just for fun). I could feel the dignity creeping away as I progressed. Well, once in a while you just have to let go – it’s sensible, not silly. Aside from a grievously injured boy there wasn’t anything else to take a photo of, so I went to put it away when a group of girls shouted out to me to take a picture of them. Usually I would have declined impolitely but for some unknown reason I wasted a precious frame on them. Who cares, I could easily buy 10 more rolls of film with the money in my shirt pocket.

That evening I was extremely tired, so I flopped on the bed a lot earlier than usual (9pm or so). In Slumberland I sunk into cruise ship dream again………yeah, there was someone in my cabin…………not a stranger though…………I could feel I was coming back to the conscious level again………desperately trying to see who it was I forced myself to stay in the dream…………..then I turned on the light in the cabin and sitting on the bed was a young blonde girl. How strange.

With that I came back from the subconscious refreshed and awake. I didn’t know what the dream was about and I didn’t have time to care. I hooked the digital camera up to the computer and transferred them. Sifting through them didn’t take long, the ‘L’ was pretty boring, the graffiti’s longevity at amusement was non-existent, the injured boy was humorous for a small period of time, and the picture of the girls had turned out blurred. There was nothing else to do, so I tried to fix up the photo and clear it up. A few adjustments to the slider and pushes of buttons did the trick. I stared at the picture, noticing immediately that all the girls had red eye ‘syndrome’. All except Amanda. She was standing proudly but relaxed, with her blonde hair bound up nicely. She was smiling, a rather gorgeous smile in my opinion. Some earings were dangling off her ears, which seemed to be positioned (like all her facial features) in the formula of the ‘Perfect Face’. (All related 1.6 cm apart or similar). Her skin was white, not albino white but a lovely human white, and her clothes were immaculately clean and stunning.

I zoomed in. Closer, closer, closer until her face occupied the whole screen. I selected it, and copied it into another picture file. After saving, I continued to gaze, absorbing myself in her beauty.

Then came a knock at the door and I closed down immediately, and threw myself on the bed before whoever it was came in. I didn’t look, but apparently they didn’t stay long. Laying crouched up in bed, the last and most important realisation came. I sank into a mixed shiver of fear and warmth, but not denial. For there was nothing to deny. It was plain and simple.

I hadn’t had to ‘wait’ long before I could ‘see’ what was going to happen.

I had a crush on this girl.
================================================== ========

[Gavin Luper]

The first part of that chapter was a bit incoherent; I couldn't really grasp exactly what was happening. A little more description of michael's surrounds wouldn't go astray either. However, it's still pretty good, although it still seems really bizarre that a 10-year-old can have a crush on someone.

Cheers!

[mistysakura]

When I was 11 I had a crush on someone.

That's good for 12. I was really bored the other day and I read some year sixes' short stories. They were... pretty bad, even for year 6.

Anyway, back to the topic. I guess Michael's finally found someone he doesn't see as 'inferior'. But he sure needs to look where he's going.:D

[The Underworld]

I guess the Chapters have finally caught up with me - now school's starting again and homework in Year 8 doesn't wait for anyone!

But thanks for reading and commenting and bearing with me.....next Chapter will be making a guest appearance tomorrow (they say that, but what to they really mean?)

[The Underworld]

Dis ist de 'Chapter' Funf (This is Chapter 5)............

(Why not use a little good old German)

To celebrate, the whole chapter's in German.......(j/k)........

Chapter 5 – A Jewel Among The Junk

‘Yeah look, cut the crap, I need answers, help, assistance mate, right now!’ I said to David impatiently.
‘Hey, don’t you wanna see my new remote control plane first?’ asked David as though I could possibly want to see anything in the world more than that plane.
‘No, I bloody well do not, what I want and need is for you to tell me what it’s like being in your situation,’ I replied.
‘What d’ya mean, what situation?’ asked David, even though it was blindingly obvious.’
‘Your situation of having a partner of female gender,’ I said.
‘You mean my girlfriend?’
‘Yes of course.’
‘She’s fine, but she did have a cold last week………’
‘Not how she is for pete’s sake,’ I stammered, almost crying at the ignorance of my friend ‘what’s it like for you – having a girlfriend?’
‘It’s pretty neat,’ said David.
‘Is that all?’ I cried, wondering why I bothered coming over anyway, ‘do you feel an increased sense of enthusiasm, self-esteem, adrenalin, overall happiness?’
‘Geez, I mean, we can do without the big words can’t we’ replied David, as usual being of no assistance whatsoever. I gritted my teeth very, very hard and the dentist reckons it’s no good for my teeth either. I decided to abandon that question and move on to something with a straighter answer that required little expansive thought on David’s part (god help anyone who had to think for once).
‘OK, can you at least tell me this, how did you get her?’ I tried, fingers crossed.
‘Look, we met at my scout group’s cross sex day.’
‘And…………you walked into each other and hugged each other automatically did you?’
‘No, we were walking towards the canteen and she was with a friend. Her friend dropped something and I picked it up for her, then she just asked me which scout group I was in – then I had some free time so I thought I’d watch her group’s tug of war game, and I guess I just liked the way she looked and she liked me. That’s it really.’

He really should have gotten a Nobel Prize for attempting to be informative, because it must have been a terrible ordeal to have to prise his attention away from remote controlled planes to remembering past events for those few seconds. I had come to be educated, I received a pack of crisps and a plastic army soldier.

***********

Who was I kidding, I thought to myself as I kicked open the door at home later in the day, what could I possibly expect to learn from the world. They were all off their rocker after all.

I checked my photos to make sure nobody had found them or looked at them. They were precious items now. For among those storage draws, full of junk, there lied one precious jewel. And thinking of all the idiots in the world around me, I confessed she really was, a jewel among the junk.

================================================

[dratinihaunter13]

your first person writing rocks, and good job making that main character deep and with flaws (fun ones to read about at that). it's a real in your face story, very interesting! the chapters are short though, so i'm often left wanting to read more, hehe. great job, i like your writing style.

[The Underworld]

DH13: Thanks for reading and replying, I know my chapters have always been short, they basically just encompass one idea and sometimes two, so there are quite a few chapters but they are only 1 - 2 Microsoft Word Pages (Size 10 comic sans). I always plan to make my chapters longer but it never happens. Also thankyou very much for all your other comments!!!

This is Chapter 6, it's a bit longer but half of it is song. I like including some songs in my fics from time to time, this one doesn't have much meaning but it's fun if you like songs and know it. Alot of songs in the fic will have special meaning - you may discover.

Chapter Six – Speaking and Singing

Here we go again.

The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round……………I sang in my head. I slouched even further down off my cold, hard, school-bus seat. The same seat, on the same bus, on the same route, every morning. Even today. Even concert’s like today’s had grown to be second nature. I just didn’t get a high from it anymore. A lot of people would be ecstatic through the roof to be singing in front their entire school – but performing had almost become part of the routine for me. It was my first for this year, but there must have been almost a dozen concerts over the last couple of years. I occupied myself making up some new tunes for a re-mix.

*****************

Damn sticky-tape! – I cursed to myself. Don’t you just hate it when you can’t find the end of the bloody thing. The bell rang, but I hadn’t finished what I had to do so I ignored it.

What I had to do was put up some more posters for the performance. Bit of a waste of time actually – you spent ages printing out different designs and fighting with sticky tape rollers and then some little brats come along and tear them off and use them as paper planes – nothing like immature little games that, as an added bonus, create more rubbish that people like me are ordered to clean up.

‘Wake up – your supposed to go to class now,’ whined someone behind me. I whirled around on one foot and gave them my classic glare of contempt. A group of girls out of my class were standing there, frowning. I don’t like to use the term ‘out of my class’ because personally a lot of people ‘in my class’ shouldn’t even belong on my planet.

‘Mmmm,’ I said. It was the best I could be bothered to do.
‘You can’t just go doing whatever you like, whenever you like, you know,’ said one of the girls.
‘Yes, because otherwise you’ll “dob” won’t you,’ I remarked.
‘What are you singing this time anyway?’ someone asked.
‘It’s a song called “It’s In His Kiss” by Cher,’ I answered.
‘My god, you like Cher?’ they tried to say but burst out giggling, ‘she’s crap!’
‘Yes well everything’s crap to people of your intelligence isn’t it?’ I snapped back cruelly.
‘Hey, watch what you say to my friends,’ said another new voice, ‘I mean, you’re just horrible.’ I whirled round again.

There was Amanda, blonde, beautiful and smiling at me. OK, not smiling. At all. It wasn’t a good start.

********

‘OK, you ready?’ asked Jonathon, who was ready to start playing the CD.
‘I’ve been ready the last hundred times, just get them to shut the hell up,’ I growled.
‘OK people, quieten down, we’re ready to go now,’ Jonathon called out to the audience of about 600. I got into the starting position. It was only gonna be a small performance, nothing large or that exciting, a chip off the old block. The music started rolling.

“Does he love me, I wanna know
How can I tell if he loves me so?
[Is it in his eyes?]
Oh, no you'll be decieved
[Is it in his sighs?]
Oh, no he'll make believe
If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss
[That's where it is, oh yeah]
[Or is it in his face?]
On no, it's just his charms
[In his warm embrace?]
On no, that's just his arms
If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss
[That's where it is]
Oh, it's in his kiss
[That's where it is]
Whoa, hug him and squeeze him tight
Find out what you wanna know
If it's love, if it really is
It's there in his kiss
[How 'bout the way he acts?]
Oh no, that's not the way
You're not listenin' to all I said
If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss
[That's where it is]
Oh, It's in his kiss
[That's where it is]
Whoa, hug him and squeeze him tight
Find out what you wanna know
If it's love, if it really is
It's there in his kiss
[How 'bout the way he acts?]
Oh no, that’s not the way
You’re not listenin’ to all I said
If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It’s in his kiss
[That’s where it is]
Oh, It’s n his kiss
[That’s where it is]
Oh, yeah it’s in his kiss
[It’s in hiss kiss]
[That’s where it is]
Ooh, it’s in his kiss
[It’s in hiss kiss]
That’s where it is
It’s in his kiss
That’s where it is
Ooh, it’s in his kiss
That’s where it is
Ooh, oh it’s in his kiss
Oh, oh, it’s in the kiss
That’s where it is”



It had all gone well. Applause was average. Everything was fine on-stage. But off-stage, somewhere amongst the crowd, lay a girl and a caption.
‘Hey, watch what you say to my friends.’
‘I mean, you’re just horrible.’
‘You’re just horrible.’
‘You’re just horrible.’
Horrible………………horrible…………..horrible…………..

I was a lot better at singing to people, than I was at speaking to people.



=-================================================== =============

[mistysakura]

I thought most people hated singing to an audience.

Anyway, that was cool. I could really imagine that microphone echo thing...

[The Underworld]

MS: Aaaaaah! You're abbreviated name means Microsoft!!! HELP!! Actually I love Microsoft. They gave us Windows, Office, and the two great simulators!!! Without getting desperately off topic - thanks very much for reading. Actually, Michael likes getting up on stage - and so do I (that's another part based on me).

In fact, about a year and a half ago when I was 11, I did a big end of primary school duet of Britney Spears' 'Lucky' with new words and based on the Paul McDermott version. Best and saddest day of my life.

Anyway, without ravings, here is la Chapter a le 7............

Chapter Seven – Keeping It Real

‘Michael, I think you’re starting to lose touch with reality a bit here,’ I said aloud to myself.

I actually dreamed someone would come up to me and tell me that. Every adult has someone they can come and consult about what they should do in a certain situation, or someone they can confide in, and trust, and cry to. It doesn’t go as deep as that for kids. For most kids, anyway.

Right now I needed someone to make me realise I was wasting my time around Amanda. I now suffered occasional insomnia, chronic disrupted thought, I was on the verge of nervous breakdowns – all over someone I had no chance of getting.

But that wasn’t going to happen on this planet. My family were hopeless at this, god knows my parents probably met on a desperate reality TV show, and I didn’t want them knowing any details of my personal life anyway.

And my only friend was too busy driving Matchbox cars over peeled batteries to help me understand what a fool I was being. And until someone actually grasped me by the neck, and told me face to face that I was a fool for believing in Amanda and I.

And of course, this wasn’t just an overall issue – I needed an answer for an immediate question. My birthday was in exactly one week. In true Michael Alonn fashion, I hadn’t got around to organization of, um, any kind really. Usually, I would just tick all the boxes (party hats, streamers, banners, other noisy, intrusive instruments) simply because I couldn’t be bothered thinking about it. Besides, I wasn’t paying for it. And typically I would invite most people from my ‘class’ (yes, once again I use the term loosely) – in some vain, desperate attempt to escape from my usual lonely, solemn life and for one day bask in the relaxing, care-free lifestyle of a popular, wild kid. That, and the fact that the more people there are, the more presents there are. Though, technically, the presents were rubbish and obviously picked up while the car was being filled up on the way over.

This year, however, the invitation list presented a large problem – without beating round the bush – should I invite Amanda or not? Sticking to the usual routine could mean tidal waves of regret, and inviting her could create the world’s worst disaster. Entailed with the latter would also mean letting on to everyone about her, something I wasn’t about to do. And on the third or fourth hand, it could be a great opportunity to establish ties with her.

Unfortunately, this was just another one of those complications and decisions that seemed to be assaulting my life this year. And I couldn’t solve them. While I waited for sanity to prevail through the words of a proper idle, I remembered what my Great-Aunt told me while she was on her death bed about five years ago.

‘Keeping it real,’ Michael, ‘Keeping it real.’
=============================================

I might re-iterate.....please reply......I don't want this to die in a bloody grave............

[mistysakura]

AHHHH! Where's all the replies?

Anyway, I think maybe you could make the chapters a bit longer... the suspense..

[The Underworld]

MS: Where are all the replies??? We'll have to get James Bond in!!Da da, da daaaa, da da daaaaa! As for longer chapters - I might post a double chapter update soon. Not now though. Don't feel like it. Plus it hasn't been written yet.

[The Underworld]

WOW! This fic was nominated........by good old dh13 I think. Of course, the others in the category are brilliant stuff by brilliant authors but its nice to be nominated anyway - thanks very much.

Let's celebrate with Chapter Eight (yeah it rhymes).

But first a little piece of Administration - the story is set to 1999 or something similar, that's a mistake - the current year of the story (when it began) is 2002 - it doesn't quite work because I'm using a song from 2002. Thanks for that.

Anyway, now to the chapter.

Chapter Eight – On The Horizon

Eleven hours and eleven minutes and eleven seconds into the eleventh day of the eleventh month. We had just finished our Remembrance Day Silence, and we’d also just reached the second I’d been waiting for all morning. 11:11:11, on the 11/11 – isn’t it strange what people get highs from these days. It was a little sad, I’ll give you that – but everybody needs a little something to light that spark once in a while – especially if you’re not feeling the best.

I certainly was feeling as far from the best as it is possible to get. My birthday party had been less than thrilling – a lot less than thrilling. Presents – crap. Parents – embarrassing. Amanda – not there. Perhaps if Amanda were there I would be feeling a lot better right now – perhaps not. I’ll never know. But now it was time to focus on the future – the future that was slowly whittling away like a baby with a cheese grater. He he he – baby with a cheese grater. I was amusing myself and I needed to do that. Just to keep me sane and to stop me running out of will to live sometimes. I then went off on a tangent deliberately, thinking of as many disgusting baby jokes as possible – avoiding returning to the subject of the inevitable.

The inevitable was that in fourteen days, two weeks, one fortnight – year 6 would be over. The end of an era would come. I would part from my school, my routine, and Amanda. It shocked me more than anything because now the countdown could be measured in a period of hours almost. Quick calculation………………………24 x 14……………………almost 360 hours anyway. There wasn’t long to accomplish my goal (whatever that was). That was another thing. It had been almost an entire school year of fantasising about Amanda and making realisations and planning moves and worrying and making diary entries and asking questions and making choices and a whole lot of psychological pish posh – for no apparent reason. I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t even know what I was trying to do.

*************

Damn masking tape. At least that was a bit of an upgrade, the sticky-tape was terrible, but this masking tape was as adhesive as positive and negatively charged ions. And yes, I was putting up posters again. For the last time. In two weeks it would be the last concert I would perform at this school. Indeed I didn’t know it, but I wouldn’t be making a performance as special as this ever again in my life, unless the world out there is even more hectic and depressing than I thought.

‘Amanda,’ I got her attention in the simplest form possible, ‘What’s your favourite song?’
‘Born To Try by Avril Lavigne,’ she hesitated, then asked why. I didn’t answer for a while. But I figured I might as well tell her. It was too late for beating around the bush games.
‘The end of year performance – I’ll sing it then – for you,’ I replied 1000 times more hesitantly than she did. I watched her face with great anticipation but all I could tell was that she was thinking a lot more than she was letting on.

It came out like that, you’re thinking. I as good as admitted it straight to her face then and there. Well not really. She already knew. I’d already told her. It was that that was really the crux of my downtrodden persona.

Because it wasn’t that I hadn’t invited her to my birthday.

I had.

She just didn’t come.

==============================================

[The Underworld]

Hopefully this'll get read...........................almost the end of the first section of the story.....

Chapter Nine : The Wall

‘All in all you’re just another brick in the wall – da dada daa,’ I sang to myself on the morning march through the playground. It was a shame I wasn’t gonna be singing that for the end of year concert. It would’ve made a great end of school song. But there were longer term goals to achieve – and this was the last chance. The one that had to happen. Bugger thinking about Plan B – we shouldn’t need to resort to another plan after this. I mean, someone dedicates the biggest performance of their life to you – you love them even if they’ve got a hair lip and glasses. That’s how it should work. So I got to work building up a spectacular, fabulous, zipzoopzabulous performance and for once I was focused and enthusiastic and most importantly – positive. The lighting, the streamers, other special effects. There were no boundaries. Especially when it comes to love.

‘You can’t have snowflakes falling from the ceiling!’ exclaimed Mr Matthews, as if he thought I was nuts, ‘You’re nuts.’

Well, that was clear now.

Normally I wouldn’t have bothered arguing and just walked off angrily, adding him to the murder list. But today was exceptional.
‘Hey teacher!’ I called out ‘Leave your kids alone!’ Ha ha.
‘Listen to me, son, don’t quote that song around here. Every time I hear it I have to box my ears. Damn troublemaking group, that Pink Floyd.
‘Well I don’t need your thought control!’ I sang to the beat of the song.
‘Oh yes, great song, great voice,’ replied Mr Matthews with rolling eyes.
‘Dark sarcasm in the classroom!’ I sang, then turned round to the whole corridor and lifted, ‘HEY, TEACHER – LEAVE YOUR KIDS ALONE!’

This had attracted some attention – a few other people knew the song as well too. We started singing:

We don’t need your education,
We don’t need your thought control,
Dark sarcasm in the classroom,
Hey, teacher – leave your kids alone!

Hey, teacher – Leave your kids alone!

All in all you’re just another brick in the wall!
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall!

Well, for once I was part of the crowd, living it up and having a good time as a careless, average young guy. And how much fun it was! I forgot all about my troubles and problems, and I looked to my side out a window to see Amanda with her head turned towards me, smiling.

Today was my second last day in this era, but it was a bloody brilliant day.
================================================== ===

[mistysakura]

Yeah, I'm here. Nice change from the beginning.


‘You can’t have snowflakes falling from the ceiling!’ exclaimed Mr Matthews, as if he thought I was nuts, ‘You’re nuts.’

Uh huh.;)

[The Underworld]

Uh huh Uh huh!

Here's where we're at. This chapter (10) is the last in this section of the story (about 3 sections equal length). It should be a good one. Feel the character!

Chapter Ten – The End of an Era

The star sign was wrong. The fortune cookie was wrong. They were all wrong and you wanna know why? Cos they’re ****.

I threw away the magazine with the astrology and numerology crap in it. I was an idiot to sink so low as to even have a look. Here I was, on the last day of school accepting that I hadn’t found love yet because Mars wasn’t aligned with Jupiter! It was all my fault, my life, my problem. And it was almost time for my song – which I was in no state for. Hair was in a mess, clothes weren’t on, and I’d been bitching my voice hoarse all morning to various members of the school community. What a way to finish off. The one day I’d planned to be extraordinarily nice and happy and relaxed and normal – I was hyped up and straining myself and letting it go to everyone in sight. Of course, this was about the same little crush I should have given up months ago.

Yet today I was going for it one more time.

********

It was such a strange feeling. Knowing that soon you’d be walking out of this place for the last time. Never to come back as a school kid again, like you’d done every day for the past however many years. So there was a strange, unexplainable feeling. Not quite absence, but predicted absence. Then there was fear. What was to come after this? Would the end of this era tear us apart? Emptiness wound its way in too. We’d gotten rid of almost everything in the classroom. Every book from the shelf, poster from the wall and pencil off the ground had been saved in an effort to preserve the era. Looking around there was only ourselves. However, above all, sadness was dominating the atmosphere. Not tears yet, but silence, gloomy faces and forced smiles. A sure sign.

And finally, for some, love tried to creep through. I think we all loved each other to some extent at that time, but a deeper love was also knocking on the door.

Actually, there was someone knocking on the door. A message – we were to go down to the hall for the final goodbyes and the annual Talent Quest. Just over an hour to go.

********

In the moments before I got up to sing for the last time, I surveyed the area for Amanda’s unmistakably pretty face. She was talking to her friends with a fairly blank expression. Then it was time to get up on the stage.

I surveyed the whole audience. Well, Amanda’s side anyway. I located her and fixed that position in my mind. Usually I care about my whole audience, but today it was only a small percentage.

‘Three years.’ I began, ‘Three years of songs built up to this – this is the most important of them all.’

The audience prepared.

‘What a time it’s been. Especially today. I don’t think anyone will ever forget today.’

The audience seemed to agree.

‘This is going out to everyone here, but most importantly its going out to someone very special to me over the past year. This is Born to Try, by Delta Goodrem, and this is for you, Amanda.’

I started the music immediately so I wouldn’t have to hear the exclamations from the audience. I still noticed their shocked faces but I just shrugged them off. I looked at Amanda, and she was smiling.

Doin everything that I believe in
Goin by the rules that I've been taught
More understanding of what's around me
And protected from the walls of love


And all that you see is me
And all I truly believe


That I was born to try
I've learned to love
Be understanding
And believe in life
But you've got to make choices
Be wrong or right
Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you like


But I was Born to Try

In the brief break I focused on the audience and could immediately tell they weren’t impressed. They had forecasted a big showdown with lights and the whole shamoozal, and clearly this wasn’t gonna be that. I felt a bit let down myself. But then I reminded myself why I was doing this and got back to the job.

No point in talking what you should have been
And regretting all the things that went on
Life's full of mistakes, destinies and fate
Remove the clouds and look at the bigger picture


And all that you see is me
And all I truly believe


That I was born to try
I've learned to love
Be understanding
And believe in life
But you've gotta make choices
Be wrong or right
Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you like


But I was Born to try


And all that you see is me
And I truly believe
And all that you see is me
And all I truly believe


That I was Born to try


I've learned to love
Be understanding
And believe in life
But you've gotta make choices
Be wrong or right
Sometimes you've gotta sacrifice the things you like

The music stopped ever so briefly – not long enough to tell much at all. But in that time I looked up to Amanda, and she stared at me for that split second.

This was the pending moment.

And then she rolled her eyes, stood up with her friends and marched off.

I was left to stand there, heartbroken, and sing the final phrase that was so spiritless, yet uncannily meaningful.

[IBut I was Born to Try.[/I]
=============================================

[The Underworld]

I know there are a couple of silent readers so here's the next chapter......

(BTW, go check out my new fic just starting, entitled "The Grandfather Paradox")

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 11 – Engaged

‘Isn’t it wonderful Michael!’ exclaimed my mum after getting off the phone. I think that call must have clocked in at about 5 hours 48 minutes. By my watch anyway.
‘What?’ I asked unenthusiastically.
‘Your Aunt Claudia’s engaged!’ she burst out, giving me a hug.

Oh great. Another wedding.

I spent the first week of the holidays in my room, browsing around the information about my new high school. Life had reached an all new low in terms of meaningfulness. I was on the verge of letting myself go. As you know I’ve always taken pride of being thin, having nice hair, and dressing well. But lately I couldn’t have cared less. What’s the point anyway? I had no objective, no reason to look nice anymore. With that in mind I got on my bike and took off down the road.

I didn’t know where I was gonna go but it was a long way away. Shopping, probably. Yep, shopping. I got there in no time. Record speed, record number of pedestrians hit or annoyed.

The first stop was the Electronics Boutique – where service is a privilege. Despite yelling three times ‘CAN YOU TELL ME WHERE THE PLAYSTATIONS ARE?’ – the guy behind the counter was apparently engaged in his arranging of Harry Potter trading cards in a feng shui layout in the display cabinet. I left.

Time for a toilet break, but naturally, all eight toilets were engaged with the world’s greatest sufferers of bladder control problems inside. This is what beer and alcohol does to society.

So while I was waiting for the guy at the store to wake up from his trance, and the blokes in the lavatory to run dry, and the McDonalds to get their bloody deep fryer working again, I thought about what other shops I could go to. And then something came over me.

I snapped open my wallet and withdrew 40 cents. I marched over to the public phone and punched in Amanda’s phone number. Then I waited.

It was engaged.

5 minutes later, I was phoning again. This time I got on.

‘Hello, who’s this?’ was the greeting I got.
‘Hi Amanda, it’s Michael, from school,’ I said, relieved she answered the phone and not her parents.
‘Not anymore,’ she said, ‘you’re not at my school anymore.’
‘Yeah, well look Amanda, I can’t stop thinking about you,’ I said pathetically. Now I was screwed.
‘Ah, look, we’ve got another call, can you ring back in 5 minutes?’ asked Amanda lightly.
I agreed.

5 minutes later (not more), I fed another 40 cents to the machine and listened to the ringtone. After 10 rings it flipped over to answering machine, with Amanda’s voice.

‘Hello, this is the Forester household. We can’t get to the phone right now, so please leave a message or ring back later. Except if you’re Michael Alonn. In that case – I’M NOT INTERESTED!’

And with that, I let the phone drop down, and sank to the bottom of the phone booth.
===========================================

[The Underworld]

Here ya go MS: I know you're still reading

Chapter 12 – If I Could Turn Back Time

How ironic. The credits of the latest no-hoper comedy started rolling through – the cast of ‘Do Over’. A 34 year old who gets to wind back the clock to when he’s 14 and do over his life again.

It was a crap show, but I’d give anything to be in his position.

The holidays were drawing to a close and they’d been the worst ever. It was like a zombi preview. I had no good TV, no school to keep me interested, and no Amanda to sustain my life. I wasn’t really living. Well, OK, I was physically living, though I wish I wasn’t.

So of course, during this time of boredom, deep thought overcame me. I thought about what I’d done in my life, where I was going, what mistakes I’d made, and what I’d do differently if I had the chance. Yes, the terrifying and misleading ‘if only’ phrase was passing through my brain cells. It’s one of those ‘subjunctive mood’ phrases I think. Learned that in English. ‘If only’ – it could drive someone mad. Could probably drive me mad if I were weaker.

Wasting time. Geez I did that a lot when I come to think of it. The whole school year I spent pottering round working out what to do and when to do it and how to do it and in the end I did nothing, and got nowhere. If only I’d gone in straight away. The first week I realised I liked Amanda I should have marched right in and told her and god knows how much fun I could have been having right now – instead of tearing myself apart over the past.

And I shouldn’t have been such a snob. Such a bastard. If only I just hadn’t slammed the door shut every morning. If only I hadn’t shouted at everyone who got on my nerves. And if only I’d shown a bit more respect to her - at least. Even straight up at Amanda’s face I’d been rude, I’d been me. I had to get over me.

Oh, there were so many things I would’ve changed. So many things I would have done differently. If I had the chance to turn back the clock. A little less time thinking, a little more time doing. A little less time arguing, a little more time attracting. A little less singing, a little more loving. Ah singing! Perhaps the one thing I enjoyed last year? The one thing that kept me sane?
Naturally as I thought about singing, I started singing. Absent-mindedly really, words of songs just came through.

If I could turn back time

If I could find a way

I’d take back all the words that have hurt you

Da, da, daaaa

And then I turned face up on my bed. I sat up. I stared down in to a photo of Amanda that was lying on the floor. If only I could turn back time.

I don't know why I did the things I did I don't know why I said the things I said
Love's like a knife it can cut deep inside
Words are like weapons they wound sometimes.

I didn't really mean to hurt you I didn't wanna see you go I know I made you cry, but baby

If I could turn back time,
If I could find a way,
I'd take back those words that hurt you and you'd stay
If I could reach the stars,
I'd give them all to you
Then you'd love me, love me like you used to do

If I could turn back time

My world was shattered I was torn apart
Like someone took a knife and drove it deep in my heart
You walked out that door I swore that I didn't care
But I lost everything darling then and there

Too strong to tell you I was sorry
Too proud to tell you I was wrong I know that I was blind, and darling...
If I could turn back time,
If I could find a way,
I'd take back those words that hurt you and you'd stay
If I could reach the stars,
I'd give them all to you
Then you'd love me, love me like you used to do


If I could turn back time…………………
=============================================

[mistysakura]

Reflection time. I knew it would come sometime.

Yeah, and those were some quick hoildays.

[Mickoz]

I posted a bit of this story a while ago but I lost interest - so after being inspired by HP5 I decided to revise and update and edit and remould it into what I thought was a better story:

The Tangled Web I Weave

Non-pokemon related romance story about an arrogant young boy who falls in love with a girl called Amanda. Follows his ups and downs over three years as he experiences hatred, depression, panic, friendship, happiness, anger and ultimately love. I won't give too many plot details away.

Set in Australia, looking at about 30 chapters all up.

Based on a true story.