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• maarii88
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Birthday
• 1986-10-08
Gender
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Female
Location
• somewhere you are not
Member Since
• 2003-10-05
Occupation
• a storyteller
Real Name
• Jess - but Maarii to everyone here!
Personal
Achievements
• staying partially sane
Anime Fan Since
• a while
Favorite Anime
• the cute, funny, serious, thought provoking ones
Goals
• to one day save the world and fall in love
Hobbies
• watching people, writing
Talents
• apparently blowing things up with my mind
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Thursday, March 4, 2004
Consequence Is Binding
"Marcus, will you please look at me for a second." His mother brushed a stray hair from her wrinkled brow. "All I want you to do is apologize."
"I don't have anything to apologize for." He stated in the tone he judged would make her the least frustrated.
"Your sister is upset, Marcus, she's whining and crying and carrying on, and right now I don't feel like I can deal with it."
"I deal with it." He accidently let slip out.
She gave him the 'I'm to exasperated to look at you' look. "I know it's hard. She's been so much more . . ." She was searcing for a word.
"Crazy?" He supplied.
Another look. "Difficult." She took a deep breath. "Your sister is fragile, and after your father took that job, well, she's just having a rough time of it."
He nodded, the only gesture he dared do when she looked this tired. "I can't have you two getting into these arguments all the time, and you are older, Marcus. You should be the bigger person and just apologize."
If she only knew that nothing at all had happened, that he had been in his room for the entire evening, then maybe she wouldn't be saying this.
On second thought, she most likely would still be saying this. He had an inclination growing in his brain that adults lived in much the same glass prison as fish, except adults liked to pretend that their glass prison was everyone's glass prison.
He nodded again.
"Thank you, Marcus." She stood up very slowly. "I'm going to bed."
He almost didn't say it.
Almost.
"What about my birthday present?" His tongue had betrayed him.
She turned around with a glazed look playing across half-closed eyes. "Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow."
He watched her lurch down the hall.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow times seven is a week.
Tomorrow times thirty is a month.
He had already waited a month for the $10 he was supposed to have received as his big birhday present. It was always tomorrow.
The inclination grew much stronger.
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