Post by deandra claire winchester on Apr 8, 2009 21:14:29 GMT -5
WHOOA WE'RE HALFWAY THERE
LIVIN' ON A PRAYER
TAKE MY HAND, WE'LL MAKE IT - I SWEAR[/size][/font]
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Deandra walked into the majestic library, her favorite book, Wuthering Heights, tucked safely into her tote, barely peeking out. She usually would have preferred her days outside, bookless, but today was one of those days where if you were seen outside, you were crazy. It was a blustery day, and a very gloomy one also. The grey clouds cast a seemingly permanent shadow over the grounds. Every time Deandra passed a window, she felt her mood become more drearier, an unexplainable sadness taking over her. Every person she passed, she snapped at, no matter how innocent they were. It was a day that made her bitchy, and a day that made her friends want to leave her be. So, it was a day she would spend at the library, a place where books surrounded her. Books would not get mad at her if she snapped at them. They also wouldn't think of her as crazy for snapping at them in the first place.
As she looked around, Deandra scoped out the place, looking for a seemingly empty place to sit. She found the best way for her to get privacy, and to be away from people, was if she was alone in an isle people would never go in. So, hiking up her ever falling pants, and pulling her tote farther up her shoulder, Deandra made her way over to the Biographies. She knew that most of the people in the school would never go to read about a dead person for fun, and she had not heard of any reports on people being assigned, so she felt it was the best place for her to relax and read. Her means for isolation were reasonable ones, usually. But, another mean was not merely so she wouldn't insult people, but also so no one would see her reading. Yes, so she did good in school, but she preferred people to think her brains came easily. She wanted them to think she didn't have to work to do good. So, when she wanted to read and study, she preferred to do it unnoticeably, most of the time.
As Deandra made her way over to the biographies, she slid off her sunglasses. Why she had them in the first place, she really didn't know. There wasn't a need for them, for the sky was grey and sunless. But, she felt them a necessity to her outfit of white sweatpants and a white jacket. She flicked a strand of her over her shoulder, and walked down the isle, settling for a place near the end, close to a wall completely covered in books, accompanied by one of those wheeled ladders that slid down the wall. Deandra had always wondered what it would be like to slid on one of those things for fun, but found it was not the appropriate time, when she was trying not to attract attention. When she sat down, Deandra set her tote next to her, and got comfortable, crossing her legs indian style, so one was completely covering the other.
Deandra then pulled out her copy of Wuthering Heights. It was one she had inherited from her grandmother, and a very old copy. While most of her siblings chosen jewlery to keep when her grandmother died, Deandra had said she wanted nothing. Later on, she had went to her father, and asked him if she could have her. He had gladly went to her stuff that had gone unclaimed, and gave it to her. That night, Deandra had locked herself in her room until the wee hours of the morning, reading that book. The language was difficult to understand, but Deandra enjoyed it. It was beautiful, and flowed nicely off you tongue. Many a time, Deandra had sat in her room, quietly reading the words aloud to herself, interpreting them in her own terms. When she had left for boarding school in America, Deandra had packed the book up. It never got unpacked till she moved here, to Murphey Academy. That's when she saw it again.
Cracking open the book, a puff of dust flew into her face. She coughed quietly, and sighed. She didn't think it had been that long since she had read the book, but perhaps it has. She sighed, and read the first paragraph of the book.1801- I have just returned from a visit with my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This certainly is a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropists heaven; and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.
She sighed, re-reading that first paragraph. The different way they spoke compared to one of her favorite series, Gossip Girl, was very distinct, and she loved that. She read the passage aloud to herself in a voice she felt was quiet. "1801- I have just returned from a visit with my landlord - the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This certainly is a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society. A perfect misanthropists heaven; and Mr. Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name." But, when she looked up to see someone, she blushed, quickly shutting the book, stuffing it in her bag, and pulling out her spiral.
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STATUS! COMPLETE TAGGED! None NOTES! I decided to have a bad day of hers in her post... May the brave post... Also, this is probably the best post I have posted... Really good muse tonight:)WORDS! 1,024 OUTFIT! HERE, Y'ALL LYRICS! Livin' On a Prayer - Bon Jovi[/center][/font][/size]
