From the category archives:

A Tale of Teen Angst

A Tale of Teen Angst - Chapter 1

by Marilyn on September 23, 2008

A little foreword: This book has no “official” title.  From the copy I have, I can see I called  part 1 “The Icebound Princess”  and part 2 “An Obligation to Devotion”.  GAG.  This should give you a little warning on what to expect.  Basically: This is no award winner here.  It’s fluff.  And poorly written fluff at that.  But… could be entertaining to look at and go, “OMG, Marilyn was such a loser as a teenager.” (This presumes that I’m not still a loser, but let’s just go with this, mmkay?)  Also, as a little background: This was written from March of 1992 to June of 1994.  The first part took place six years previous, so in the mid-80’s.  Confused yet?  Get used to it.  I also had a really hard time not editing this as I re-typed it.  REALLY HARD.  If I need to, I will interject “editor’s notes” but I’ll try to keep that to a minimum.

Chapter 1:

* * Hillary * *

“Wow, what a sunset,” I whispered to myself.  I stood at the rail of the large cruise ship.  I was watching the golden sun slip under the horizon formed only by the still ocean.  The resulting color was a shocking red.  I smiled to myself.  Red was my favorite color.  I even had red hair.  Not the bright orange-red color you’re always hearing about, but a dark red-brown.

I took a deep breath of the fresh sea air.  I would have to thank my parents for taking my brothers and I on this cruise.  This was ten times better than staying home in Mayton, Massachusetts, a small town just outside of Boston.  This cruise to Hawaii was a Christmas present for the whole family.  When I had first heard of the trip, I was reluctant to go.  I didn’t want to have to leave my friends or abandon my figure skating practice.  Then, my parents found out that the cruise people were putting on a Christmas Eve ice show.  That meant there would be an ice rink available to practice on.  In fact, my parents even called the cruise linke before we left.  They asked if they could rent out the rink to me for an hour each morning so I could practice.  The cruise line agreed and I agreed to go along on the cruise, though Ralph, my coach, wouldn’t be there.  Now, I was glad I decided to come.

I noticed some dark clouds forming quickly, marring the beautiful sky.  A storm was coming.  How quickly the weather changed out here on the ocean!  In a way, it reminded me of myself.  My mood was often quick to change.  I could go from pleasant and sweet to irrational and hot-headed in an instant.  I had a terrible temper.  It went well with my red hair and Irish background.

My name was Hillary Elena Jamison.  I was sixteen yeras old and a junior in high school.  I had a twin brother whose name was Ryan Peter.  He was a real doll, though he looked nothing like me and his personality was a direct opposite of mine.  He had dark brown, wavy hair that he kpt short and neat.  He also had blue eyes and was relatively tall.  My dark, red, wavy hair fell down to about the middle of my back in soft curls.  I had large green eyes fringed with thick eyelashes.  I was also very short, between 5′3 and 5′4.  While Ryan was soft-spoken, gentle and sweet, I was excitable, outgoing, quick-tempered and aggressive.  I had my moments, though.  I could be as agreeable as Ryan, when I wanted to be.  And while Ryan had little or no interests or hobbies, I certainly did and it was figure skating.

I had been skating most all of my life.  As soon as I was old enough to walk, my skating career began.  Since then, I’d been struggling to become famous.  I’d been in several competitions, including local and regional championships.  I’d been to Nationals and won several medals and just last year I went to the the World FIgure Skating Championships for the first time.  I placed very low, to my discouragement.  This year, I was staying out of competitions to get in some more practice.  Actually, my loss at the World Championships had really taken me down a notch.  My confidence in my skating had fallen apart.  Of course, I would never tell that to anyone.  I had far too much pride for that.

I also had an older brother, Scott.  He was 18 and a senior in high school.  He had auburn hair, like my mom, and grey eyes.  He was very tall and on the school’s basketball team.  He was really good at sports and a great older brother.  He was always looking out fo rme.

A cold wind blew up, interrupting my thoughts.  Goose bumps rose on my arms.  I didn’t have a coat with me or anthing so I decided to head back to my cabin.  I had one all to myself, thanks to my parents and their money.  They are really loaded.  As I hurried along the empty deck, I glanced down at my gold watch with it’s leather band.  5:45?  I was supposed to meet my family at 6:00 for dinner!  I’d never have enough time to change my outfit.  I began to run.

I dodge past passengers and turned several sharp corners.  I began to run faster as I heard thunder rolling in the distance.  I turned one corner very quickly and smacked right into someone, knocking them over.

“Oh, my God!  I’m so sorry!” I gushed, trying to help my victim up.  “I shouldn’t have been running so fast.”

The person took my hand and got to their feet.  It was a young man, around my age.  And he was gorgeous.  He was tall, like Scott, and very well built.  I could see his muscles on his arms from under his cotton polo shirt.  He had dark brown hair that curled softly at the ends and brown eyes  that were like twin pools of melted chocolate.  And his smile!  When he smiled at me, I instantly felt my knees go weak.  It was the type of smile that completely blew a person away.  I stood there, still holding his hand, numb with shock.

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Biting the bullet

by Marilyn on September 22, 2008

Okay.  I’m going to do it.  I’m posting that horror of a story I wrote when I was in high school.  Enough of you said, “Yeah, go ahead and post it,” that I feel I have to give the people what they want.  Even when I know it’s bad for them (sorta like a cashier at McDonald’s).

The first trainwreck chapter is going up first thing in the morning.  I’m a little scared.  I’m worried that y’all will think less of me when if you read it.  It’s actually worse than I initially thought.  The grammar is… questionable.  The sentence structure is… scary.  The plot is… nonexistant.  BUT… it’s too late now.  I’m invested.  I’m going forward with this for at least as long as interest calls for it.

So… that’s all.  I had nothing else to say.

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