myOtaku.com: X Shadowme X

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1993-05-02
Gender
• Female
Location
• Here
Member Since
• 2005-05-30
Occupation
• Life preserver :)
Real Name
• Belina

Personal

Achievements
• http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb281/Soul_Resistance/Untitled.jpg... Nuff said
Anime Fan Since
• Ever since Pokemon
Favorite Anime
• I'm not that obsessed anymore, to be honest. Mostly just Kare Kano, Ceres, Furuba, Ouran Highschool Hostclub, FMA, and, of course, ShinChan. X3
Goals
• Make it out of here in one piece
Hobbies
• Paranoia, mood swings, and the occasional emotional meltdown
Talents
• :)

myOtaku.com: X Shadowme X

Thursday, March 4, 2010

I do not know at what point I actually “got over” Jon in the traditional sense, but after about three and a half months of mourning the death of our love, I was able to keep from crying.
Conveniently, the day I decided to call Jazzy happened to be on a Saturday, so when he picked up and told me to come over his house, I had no previous obligations preventing me from doing so. Plus, his house was surprisingly close to mine—about two blocks away, to be specific—so my mom wasn’t that adamant about dropping me off there.
When I rang the doorbell, he answered less than five seconds later and greeted me as if we were the oldest of friends.
“Brenda!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms around me in a hug. “Welcome! Come right in!”
Despite this cordial greeting, there was some something unsettling about Jazzy’s countenance. I detected a note of fear in his usually confident, unwavering voice, and his smile seemed plastic. He also wasn’t wearing eye-liner.
I was about to stutter out a reply when I noticed a tall, stunning, middle-aged women curiously watching us from the hallway. She had the exact same eyes and mouth as Jazzy.
“Look,” He shrilly whispered in my ear, as he led me in, plastic smile still contorting his face. “My mum’s extremely homophobic and doesn’t know I’m gay, so if she asks you anything like who I’m dating or if I like anyone, lie! Lie like a dead body!”
As soon as we got within earshot of her, Jazzy turned to her and grinned so broadly, he could have licked his own eyebrow.
“Mum,” He said in a feigned, cheery voice. “This is Brenda, the friend I was telling you about.”
Mrs. Striffy did not smile. That was okay. She didn’t have to—her beauty was such that her most murderous scowl would have looked ten times better than the cutest toddler’s friendliest smile. Still, I really wished she would stop observing us with that silent, probing stare that made me wonder if she had x-ray vision.
“Um, nice to meet you, Mrs. Striffy,” I murmured, transfixed by her beauty. If not for the slight wrinkles framing her mouth, I would have thought she was Jazzy’s older sister.
She nodded at me, smirked, and said to Jazzy, “She’s rather skinny for you, isn’t she, love?”
What? She thought Jazzy and I were together? She was crazy!

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