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Oct. 6th, 2004 06:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
axesladelittler pissed because Char didn't show again *snort* auditions today. I think I did pretty well. might get called back to audition again tomorrow, final cuts will be out on friday. I don't care too much about what part I get, I would like Belle or one of the Ghosts (I think Belle is already taken by a really good girl with great emotion and a killer british accent). *sigh*I'll post the first two chaps of my fic here, so that Char might get a chance to see them.
Disclaimer: Not mahne. Big Fish RP-style. This first few chapters are probably going to suck since I don't have the movie has a reference right now, since mum returned it (dad says he's going to get it again for me), but in the mean time...Not saying who's telling it now, it'll be revealed in the first paragraph. And the POV will occasionally shift to 3rd person, as the movie did.
Title: The Rest of My Life
Rating: PG-13
Reasons: Language/violence/sexual content/death
Genres: Romance/Angst/Drama
~Sandra: You don't even know me! Ed: I have the rest of my life to find out.~Edward Bloom (Ewan McGregor) and Sandra Templeton (Alison Lohman) 'Big Fish'
My father, or in reality my step-father, and I didn't get along very well after I turned twelve. By then, I was too old for the stories he told, the over-fantasized yarns he spun to explain his life. He continued telling them, though, even after I started leaving the room and putting on my headphones. Part of the reason was obviously my sister Jamie. Only a year younger than me, she was a definite daddy's girl. She was constantly sitting on the side of his bed, opposite my mother, dotting on him and listening with undivided attention when he was strong enough to tell one of these fairy tales. But the other reason, I think, was that he hated the thought of being a nobody. Telling these stories made him a somebody again, not just a bedridden AIDS patient.
Now, when I say we didn't get along, I guess I should say I didn't get along with him. He loved me, I know he believed me to really be his daughter, and if my real father hadn't refused to give up his rights, he would have adopted me. Even after I stopped paying attention to his stories, he continued to bother me when he was strong enough, trying to get me involved in the childish games he and Jamie played. I would tell him I had homework or something, even though it hurt me to see the pain of rejection on his face. I knew my mother didn't want me to do this, she wanted everyone to humor him since for all we knew he could kick off at any time, but of course as a teenager I couldn't.
He really started getting the message the night I announced my engagement. My fiancé, William, was telling the story of how he'd proposed, just nights before. We were on vacation, or really he was, since I always went to Birmingham in the summers to see my real dad and this year I'd decided to take William with me. I had just come in from seeing a concert with Dad, and when I walked into my room, my bed was covered in red rose petals. Lying amongst them was a white ring box. When I opened it, all I saw was a note with the words 'I don't want you to see the ring and say yes just because it's so beautiful', and then I turned and saw Will standing there, hands behind his back and grinning. Of course I said yes, and not just because of the ring.
Then, James (it's been years since I called him Dad), started in on his story of how he proposed to Mom, how the day his sight came back after two weeks of blinded, he'd told her he was taking her out and to go buy something nice to wear just so he could buy her ring. Jamie was smiling; she'd always found the blind part to be really romantic. I was pissed at him, of course. This was my night, my celebration. I excused myself from the table and ran out.
I walked around the backyard, kicking a tree and tearing at the grass when I heard him walk out. Over the years, his walk had become very distinctive. Slow, hesitant, as if he were afraid of tripping at every step. I whirled around and glared at him,
"What's wrong with you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm happy for the first time in ages and you have to become the storyteller again."
"Chris-"
"Why don't you just tell the truth about it?!"
"I've told nothing but the truth ever since-"
"Oh don't give me that! Your sight, which you, of course, lost because of my *real* father, miraculously comes back the day you decide to propose to her? Yeah, sure."
I walked back in and got Will, dragging him out. I didn't see or speak James again for three years. Will and I moved to England, where I lived in a flat near my Dad. Of course, I talked to Mom and Jamie, and one or the other would always say how James was doing fine and that he wished me well. I said that I was great, and that I hoped he would get better soon.
After three years, though, things changed.
September 3, 1995
It was late in the afternoon. Will and I had just gotten back from having dinner at my Dad's when the phone rang two rooms away. At the time, I was several months pregnant and couldn't even think of getting there before the answering machine clicked on, so Will dashed over and picked it up. A moment later, when I'd walked closer, he handed it out to me,
"Your Mom."
I took it and put the receiver to my ear,
"Mum?"
"Hey sweetheart. Do you think you could come over here anytime soon?"
"...It's James, isn't it?"
"Yeah. The medicine just isn't doing anything but make him feel worse now, and he caught a cold."
"Oh geez..." I didn't get along with the man, but I sure didn't wish him dead,
"We'll fly out tonight if we can, all right?"
"Okay."
"Mum?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"I haven't slept in three nights."
"Oh Mum..."
"Don't worry about me. Just get down here as quick as you can, okay?"
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hung up and turned to Will,
"It's James. He's...dying."
"Oh man..."
I nodded and picked up the phone again to book the next flight to New York.
AN: POV change. This will probably happen every other chapter or so, if not multiple times in a chapter. Deal with it.
Jamie heard the clatter downstairs, knew that Christina was home. She was tempted to go down there, but that would mean leaving Dad, and she didn't want to do that. She'd stayed by him for these past few days, even when her mother tried to get her to leave just to get fresh air. Sometimes she felt like yielding, especially when her mother was there sitting there, holding his hand, but then she thought of not being there when...when it happened, and she sat back down.
Jamie heard her mother's familiar tread on the plush carpet downstairs, then her brother-in-law's light one. She expected to hear Christina's sophisticated one, but instead heard clumsy, slow steps. Oh, that was right. Chrissy was pregnant, wasn't she?
The door opened and her mother smiled softly. Even though life hadn't been kind to her, she looked remarkably good for forty-six. She'd stopped bleachign her hair a few years ago, so it was now a faded brown. Her face was covered with frown and laugh lines, but her big blue eyes still sparkled with happiness, something Jamie always heard people say wouldn't be there if it weren't for her father. Of course, she knew the story of how her dad had 'saved' her mother, it was almost folk-lore. Still, even though she'd heard the tales of the things Chrissy's 'real' dad had done to her mother, she couldn't picture what she would look like truly unhappy. Even now, with the love of her life dying, she maintained an aura of calm.
Mandy crossed over to the other side of the bed, sitting by her husband and petting his hand,
"James?"
"He's been awake for ten minutes, Mom", Mandy glanced at Jamie, mirroring her daughter's grin when James opened his eyes, smiling,
"Hey, I can answer for myself" he attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, but failed. Immediately, Jamie grabbed a few pillows from the floor and propped them under his neck. James glanced at her and shook his head,
"And when did you become the nurse?"
"When Mom refused to wear the uniform."
Mandy laughed softly,
"Chrissy's here."
"I heard" Mandy watched the look on his face as his eyes landed on his daughter. She had never relented to Christina's wish that she put 'step' in front of the word. He was her daughter in everything but blood.
James tried to speak louder than the whisper he'd been using for the past few seconds and started coughing. Mandy reached over to the nightstand, handing him a glass of water. James glared at her mockingly,
"You two are too paranoid."
"If I was wearing the outfit you wouldn't be saying that."
Mandy heard Christina groan and she just barely restrained the urge to hurl the lamp at her daughter. Ever since she'd told her that James wasn't her real father, she'd been, quite frankly, a total bitch.
James ignored Christina, allowing Mandy to hold the glass to his lips. After his throat had been slightly wet, he glanced at his daughter and son-in-law.
"So, how's London?"
"Fine. Will's working at an accounting firm, he's due for a promotion any day now", he had to force himself not to roll his eyes. God, how could anyone with Mandy's blood be this boring?
"Wow."
"How you doing Jam'?" he watched as Jamie lifted her eyes up in shock. Even though they'd spoken on the phone, the two sisters hadn't really had a conversation. All their responses were automated, practiced to avoid conflict.
"Oh great. Some of the local radio shows are playing my stuff, and I'm trying to get a contract."
"What're you doing to make money?"
"Nothing."
"So you still live here?"
"Dad needs me. Mom can't take care of him by herself", James sensed a fight and held his hand out,
"You know that's not true luv, you just worry about me too much."
He saw Jamie's face slowly going from angry red to calm pale. She smiled,
"Well I can't help it. You worried about me for so long, I think I owe you."
Christina groaned. She knew what Jamie's words would bring. The old story of how their mother had been shot, when she was pregnant, by one of James' 'obsessed groupies'. How for days afterwards 'dad' had been worried about her mother and Jamie's health. She knew it couldn't be stopped, when after tuning out of the conversation for a few minutes, she caught the words,
"...She was whimpering all the time-"
"Because that one was continually kicking me."
Christina cleared her throat,
"Ah, I'd better go lie down. You know, long flight."
Her mother and sister looked up, both giving her cold looks. James nodded,
"All right luv", he gave her a tiny smile and went back to his tall tales. Christina shook her head,
"Come on Will, help me unpack."
"Just a sec, you didn't tell me this-"
"I said come on."
William sighed and followed her out of the room.
Disclaimer: Not mahne. Big Fish RP-style. This first few chapters are probably going to suck since I don't have the movie has a reference right now, since mum returned it (dad says he's going to get it again for me), but in the mean time...Not saying who's telling it now, it'll be revealed in the first paragraph. And the POV will occasionally shift to 3rd person, as the movie did.
Title: The Rest of My Life
Rating: PG-13
Reasons: Language/violence/sexual content/death
Genres: Romance/Angst/Drama
~Sandra: You don't even know me! Ed: I have the rest of my life to find out.~Edward Bloom (Ewan McGregor) and Sandra Templeton (Alison Lohman) 'Big Fish'
My father, or in reality my step-father, and I didn't get along very well after I turned twelve. By then, I was too old for the stories he told, the over-fantasized yarns he spun to explain his life. He continued telling them, though, even after I started leaving the room and putting on my headphones. Part of the reason was obviously my sister Jamie. Only a year younger than me, she was a definite daddy's girl. She was constantly sitting on the side of his bed, opposite my mother, dotting on him and listening with undivided attention when he was strong enough to tell one of these fairy tales. But the other reason, I think, was that he hated the thought of being a nobody. Telling these stories made him a somebody again, not just a bedridden AIDS patient.
Now, when I say we didn't get along, I guess I should say I didn't get along with him. He loved me, I know he believed me to really be his daughter, and if my real father hadn't refused to give up his rights, he would have adopted me. Even after I stopped paying attention to his stories, he continued to bother me when he was strong enough, trying to get me involved in the childish games he and Jamie played. I would tell him I had homework or something, even though it hurt me to see the pain of rejection on his face. I knew my mother didn't want me to do this, she wanted everyone to humor him since for all we knew he could kick off at any time, but of course as a teenager I couldn't.
He really started getting the message the night I announced my engagement. My fiancé, William, was telling the story of how he'd proposed, just nights before. We were on vacation, or really he was, since I always went to Birmingham in the summers to see my real dad and this year I'd decided to take William with me. I had just come in from seeing a concert with Dad, and when I walked into my room, my bed was covered in red rose petals. Lying amongst them was a white ring box. When I opened it, all I saw was a note with the words 'I don't want you to see the ring and say yes just because it's so beautiful', and then I turned and saw Will standing there, hands behind his back and grinning. Of course I said yes, and not just because of the ring.
Then, James (it's been years since I called him Dad), started in on his story of how he proposed to Mom, how the day his sight came back after two weeks of blinded, he'd told her he was taking her out and to go buy something nice to wear just so he could buy her ring. Jamie was smiling; she'd always found the blind part to be really romantic. I was pissed at him, of course. This was my night, my celebration. I excused myself from the table and ran out.
I walked around the backyard, kicking a tree and tearing at the grass when I heard him walk out. Over the years, his walk had become very distinctive. Slow, hesitant, as if he were afraid of tripping at every step. I whirled around and glared at him,
"What's wrong with you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm happy for the first time in ages and you have to become the storyteller again."
"Chris-"
"Why don't you just tell the truth about it?!"
"I've told nothing but the truth ever since-"
"Oh don't give me that! Your sight, which you, of course, lost because of my *real* father, miraculously comes back the day you decide to propose to her? Yeah, sure."
I walked back in and got Will, dragging him out. I didn't see or speak James again for three years. Will and I moved to England, where I lived in a flat near my Dad. Of course, I talked to Mom and Jamie, and one or the other would always say how James was doing fine and that he wished me well. I said that I was great, and that I hoped he would get better soon.
After three years, though, things changed.
September 3, 1995
It was late in the afternoon. Will and I had just gotten back from having dinner at my Dad's when the phone rang two rooms away. At the time, I was several months pregnant and couldn't even think of getting there before the answering machine clicked on, so Will dashed over and picked it up. A moment later, when I'd walked closer, he handed it out to me,
"Your Mom."
I took it and put the receiver to my ear,
"Mum?"
"Hey sweetheart. Do you think you could come over here anytime soon?"
"...It's James, isn't it?"
"Yeah. The medicine just isn't doing anything but make him feel worse now, and he caught a cold."
"Oh geez..." I didn't get along with the man, but I sure didn't wish him dead,
"We'll fly out tonight if we can, all right?"
"Okay."
"Mum?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"I haven't slept in three nights."
"Oh Mum..."
"Don't worry about me. Just get down here as quick as you can, okay?"
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you too."
I hung up and turned to Will,
"It's James. He's...dying."
"Oh man..."
I nodded and picked up the phone again to book the next flight to New York.
AN: POV change. This will probably happen every other chapter or so, if not multiple times in a chapter. Deal with it.
Jamie heard the clatter downstairs, knew that Christina was home. She was tempted to go down there, but that would mean leaving Dad, and she didn't want to do that. She'd stayed by him for these past few days, even when her mother tried to get her to leave just to get fresh air. Sometimes she felt like yielding, especially when her mother was there sitting there, holding his hand, but then she thought of not being there when...when it happened, and she sat back down.
Jamie heard her mother's familiar tread on the plush carpet downstairs, then her brother-in-law's light one. She expected to hear Christina's sophisticated one, but instead heard clumsy, slow steps. Oh, that was right. Chrissy was pregnant, wasn't she?
The door opened and her mother smiled softly. Even though life hadn't been kind to her, she looked remarkably good for forty-six. She'd stopped bleachign her hair a few years ago, so it was now a faded brown. Her face was covered with frown and laugh lines, but her big blue eyes still sparkled with happiness, something Jamie always heard people say wouldn't be there if it weren't for her father. Of course, she knew the story of how her dad had 'saved' her mother, it was almost folk-lore. Still, even though she'd heard the tales of the things Chrissy's 'real' dad had done to her mother, she couldn't picture what she would look like truly unhappy. Even now, with the love of her life dying, she maintained an aura of calm.
Mandy crossed over to the other side of the bed, sitting by her husband and petting his hand,
"James?"
"He's been awake for ten minutes, Mom", Mandy glanced at Jamie, mirroring her daughter's grin when James opened his eyes, smiling,
"Hey, I can answer for myself" he attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, but failed. Immediately, Jamie grabbed a few pillows from the floor and propped them under his neck. James glanced at her and shook his head,
"And when did you become the nurse?"
"When Mom refused to wear the uniform."
Mandy laughed softly,
"Chrissy's here."
"I heard" Mandy watched the look on his face as his eyes landed on his daughter. She had never relented to Christina's wish that she put 'step' in front of the word. He was her daughter in everything but blood.
James tried to speak louder than the whisper he'd been using for the past few seconds and started coughing. Mandy reached over to the nightstand, handing him a glass of water. James glared at her mockingly,
"You two are too paranoid."
"If I was wearing the outfit you wouldn't be saying that."
Mandy heard Christina groan and she just barely restrained the urge to hurl the lamp at her daughter. Ever since she'd told her that James wasn't her real father, she'd been, quite frankly, a total bitch.
James ignored Christina, allowing Mandy to hold the glass to his lips. After his throat had been slightly wet, he glanced at his daughter and son-in-law.
"So, how's London?"
"Fine. Will's working at an accounting firm, he's due for a promotion any day now", he had to force himself not to roll his eyes. God, how could anyone with Mandy's blood be this boring?
"Wow."
"How you doing Jam'?" he watched as Jamie lifted her eyes up in shock. Even though they'd spoken on the phone, the two sisters hadn't really had a conversation. All their responses were automated, practiced to avoid conflict.
"Oh great. Some of the local radio shows are playing my stuff, and I'm trying to get a contract."
"What're you doing to make money?"
"Nothing."
"So you still live here?"
"Dad needs me. Mom can't take care of him by herself", James sensed a fight and held his hand out,
"You know that's not true luv, you just worry about me too much."
He saw Jamie's face slowly going from angry red to calm pale. She smiled,
"Well I can't help it. You worried about me for so long, I think I owe you."
Christina groaned. She knew what Jamie's words would bring. The old story of how their mother had been shot, when she was pregnant, by one of James' 'obsessed groupies'. How for days afterwards 'dad' had been worried about her mother and Jamie's health. She knew it couldn't be stopped, when after tuning out of the conversation for a few minutes, she caught the words,
"...She was whimpering all the time-"
"Because that one was continually kicking me."
Christina cleared her throat,
"Ah, I'd better go lie down. You know, long flight."
Her mother and sister looked up, both giving her cold looks. James nodded,
"All right luv", he gave her a tiny smile and went back to his tall tales. Christina shook her head,
"Come on Will, help me unpack."
"Just a sec, you didn't tell me this-"
"I said come on."
William sighed and followed her out of the room.
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no subject
on 2004-10-07 03:41 am (UTC)