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!["I don't know where it all went wrong..." [Writing]](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/asterionblazing/1371438961/1371438961.asterionblazing_charita-ally.jpg "Click to change the View")
"I don't know where it all went wrong..." [Writing]
Ok, I guess I should actually do something with my FBA draft characters, so here's something Charita related. Allison Ulster (aka Allie, Charita's big ol' sheepdog girlfriend) POVing like there's no tomorrow.
A while ago, when you asked what I liked about you, I told you that you were the best person I ever met.
I wonder why your mother can't see what I see in you.
I know things between you two were never the best, according to you. You two were always butting heads over the most trivial things. You told me how things would be different this time, though. You weren't going to argue or give her grief, and would just do as you were asked. “We'll have a good break that way,” you said. With that, you left for your mother's place a short train ride away, while I elected to stay at the dorms over break.
It's no small wonder, then, why I was surprised to see you show up at my door not even a week into our break.
You smiled and said hello, but I could hear in your voice that you weren't happy at all. “I'm kind of sad right now.”
Which meant that you were actually unbearably sad. I ushered you into my little single unit, and sat you down, and just waited. I knew you would speak when you were ready.
With that sad little smile that you wear more often that you should, you told me where it all went wrong. It started out well enough. Mom was actually shocked to find you so agreeable. But it all went to pieces on a shopping trip, apparently. Mom likes to shop. You, not so much. When you told her as much, she... didn't react well. You didn't understand why she was taking it so personally. It wasn't as if you didn't want to spend time with her; you just didn't want to go shopping. “But it was always that way. Gotta do what she wants to do. You either get dragged along or suffer her wrath and get dragged along anyway.” A sick little chuckle escapes from you. “I just...”
I don't know how much time passed in silence, as you worked out the words in your head. “I just thought... if I really, really tried not to make her mad, we could have a nice time together.” You let out a quiet sigh. “We used to have fun together, when I was little, I mean. I... I don't know where it all went wrong. Now it's all 'Charita! Why are you always fighting me on everything? I don't have this problem with your brother!'” You did a fairly good impression of her, actually.
“I think she's always been kind of mad at me, y'know? I don't care about fashion or shopping or guys, and I refuse to be a stupid little doll that she can play dress-up with.” You sneered the last part. “I'm not the ideal daughter she dreamed of, and she can't stand it.”
I never know what to say to you, when you're hurting like this. I often find myself feeling useless as your girlfriend in these situations.
“ ...I'm just tired of a lot of things, Allie. I'm tired of being told how much she wishes I didn't have such a 'dull, sooty color,' how I need to stop 'dressing like a bum' –because jeans and t-shirts means you're a bum, apparently—and how I'll 'never get anywhere just playing basketball'... and...” You turned away, but I didn't have to see you to know you were on the verge of tears. “Why aren't I good enough?”
I wondered, briefly, if you could hear my heart breaking. I wish more than anything, your mother could see the Charita I see. Why can't she see the person who knows what she wants out of her life and works to reach her goals? The person who always cheers on everyone over everything, no matter how mundane? The one who just up and decided to sit down next to the goofy-looking sheepdog eating lunch alone that fateful sophomore year?
Even now, I don't have words to offer you. All I can do is gather you up in my 'strong' arms you're always commenting on, because it's the one place you feel at home.
You are more than good enough here.
You are perfect.
A while ago, when you asked what I liked about you, I told you that you were the best person I ever met.
I wonder why your mother can't see what I see in you.
I know things between you two were never the best, according to you. You two were always butting heads over the most trivial things. You told me how things would be different this time, though. You weren't going to argue or give her grief, and would just do as you were asked. “We'll have a good break that way,” you said. With that, you left for your mother's place a short train ride away, while I elected to stay at the dorms over break.
It's no small wonder, then, why I was surprised to see you show up at my door not even a week into our break.
You smiled and said hello, but I could hear in your voice that you weren't happy at all. “I'm kind of sad right now.”
Which meant that you were actually unbearably sad. I ushered you into my little single unit, and sat you down, and just waited. I knew you would speak when you were ready.
With that sad little smile that you wear more often that you should, you told me where it all went wrong. It started out well enough. Mom was actually shocked to find you so agreeable. But it all went to pieces on a shopping trip, apparently. Mom likes to shop. You, not so much. When you told her as much, she... didn't react well. You didn't understand why she was taking it so personally. It wasn't as if you didn't want to spend time with her; you just didn't want to go shopping. “But it was always that way. Gotta do what she wants to do. You either get dragged along or suffer her wrath and get dragged along anyway.” A sick little chuckle escapes from you. “I just...”
I don't know how much time passed in silence, as you worked out the words in your head. “I just thought... if I really, really tried not to make her mad, we could have a nice time together.” You let out a quiet sigh. “We used to have fun together, when I was little, I mean. I... I don't know where it all went wrong. Now it's all 'Charita! Why are you always fighting me on everything? I don't have this problem with your brother!'” You did a fairly good impression of her, actually.
“I think she's always been kind of mad at me, y'know? I don't care about fashion or shopping or guys, and I refuse to be a stupid little doll that she can play dress-up with.” You sneered the last part. “I'm not the ideal daughter she dreamed of, and she can't stand it.”
I never know what to say to you, when you're hurting like this. I often find myself feeling useless as your girlfriend in these situations.
“ ...I'm just tired of a lot of things, Allie. I'm tired of being told how much she wishes I didn't have such a 'dull, sooty color,' how I need to stop 'dressing like a bum' –because jeans and t-shirts means you're a bum, apparently—and how I'll 'never get anywhere just playing basketball'... and...” You turned away, but I didn't have to see you to know you were on the verge of tears. “Why aren't I good enough?”
I wondered, briefly, if you could hear my heart breaking. I wish more than anything, your mother could see the Charita I see. Why can't she see the person who knows what she wants out of her life and works to reach her goals? The person who always cheers on everyone over everything, no matter how mundane? The one who just up and decided to sit down next to the goofy-looking sheepdog eating lunch alone that fateful sophomore year?
Even now, I don't have words to offer you. All I can do is gather you up in my 'strong' arms you're always commenting on, because it's the one place you feel at home.
You are more than good enough here.
You are perfect.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 397 x 600px
File Size 87.8 kB
Listed in Folders
I love this snippet of a story, mainly because I often feel this way from a male perspective. It's tough to live up to what your parents, elders or mentors consider to be the ideal type of person one is SUPPOSE to be when we all just want to be accepted and appreciated as the person we already are. Its tough to realize that we don't have to live up to arbitrary expectations when everyone inside just wants to be liked for how they were born. So we fight to change, sometimes towards impossible standards.
In the end, we are more than good enough. We are perfect. :3
Well done!!
In the end, we are more than good enough. We are perfect. :3
Well done!!
I have you to thank for this! Your latest Alfie story spurred me on to do a little something for my own draft hopeful. :D
Also, I dreamt Alfie was a woman (Alfina) and was on the Voodoo, and she and Murina were having adventures around Voodoo Stadium (because they have one). :|
Also, I dreamt Alfie was a woman (Alfina) and was on the Voodoo, and she and Murina were having adventures around Voodoo Stadium (because they have one). :|
Both this image and this story are marvelously skewed. Nine times out of ten, when someone draws an embrace, the subjects are on equal footing, drawing comfort from each other. Even when the embrace involves one delivering comfort to the other, one clearly provides and one clearly receives, maybe still hurting, but accepting the embrace. Here, Allison is hidden behind Charita's hair, almost nothing but a halo around the ewe, while Charita is right in the throes of her confusion. If her face were anywhere else, you wouldn't realize she was receiving comfort at all.
That's magnificent. You've turned this whole thing around with those decisions. What would otherwise have been a pedestrian embrace capturing just the emotions stunted by our expectations, here you've broken the norm and startled the viewer into a fresh look at what it means to be in pain and the value of comfort. In my mind, Charita's lack of obvious acceptance of the hug doesn't take away from the importance of it, but reflects more truthfully how complicated the emotions can be dealing with the expectations of a parent.
As for the story, I'll admit, it's a tough read. The POV is uncommon, and the drifting of tense makes the action a bit obscure. But I think that captures some of the confusion going on in this moment. It's clear Allison knows Charita well enough to read the subtext in her words, but it's also clear she doesn't really understand what's happening between Charita and her mother. I like the way you handle the dialogue in this, slowly building more and more of Charita's words into the story, as if that's the only resource Allison has to figuring out what happened and it becomes more and more valuable the more she learns. When the dialogue cuts off in the last few paragraphs, that's a beautiful way to show a decision. And to suggest Allison's heart breaking. And as you know from my own writing, I'm a huge sucker for ending a story on a single, simple sentence.
Beautiful job on this, both the picture and the story. This feels very genuine to me, nothing clouded by the ham-fisted drama you see so much in furry stories. The characters care for each other to the point of trying to hide what they can to support the other, leaving both hunting desperately for the feelings hidden under their thinning skin. And that's very real.
That's magnificent. You've turned this whole thing around with those decisions. What would otherwise have been a pedestrian embrace capturing just the emotions stunted by our expectations, here you've broken the norm and startled the viewer into a fresh look at what it means to be in pain and the value of comfort. In my mind, Charita's lack of obvious acceptance of the hug doesn't take away from the importance of it, but reflects more truthfully how complicated the emotions can be dealing with the expectations of a parent.
As for the story, I'll admit, it's a tough read. The POV is uncommon, and the drifting of tense makes the action a bit obscure. But I think that captures some of the confusion going on in this moment. It's clear Allison knows Charita well enough to read the subtext in her words, but it's also clear she doesn't really understand what's happening between Charita and her mother. I like the way you handle the dialogue in this, slowly building more and more of Charita's words into the story, as if that's the only resource Allison has to figuring out what happened and it becomes more and more valuable the more she learns. When the dialogue cuts off in the last few paragraphs, that's a beautiful way to show a decision. And to suggest Allison's heart breaking. And as you know from my own writing, I'm a huge sucker for ending a story on a single, simple sentence.
Beautiful job on this, both the picture and the story. This feels very genuine to me, nothing clouded by the ham-fisted drama you see so much in furry stories. The characters care for each other to the point of trying to hide what they can to support the other, leaving both hunting desperately for the feelings hidden under their thinning skin. And that's very real.
I personally am not a big fan of POVs myself, and I knew the changing in tense might be an issue, but I just wanted to do something kind of immediate and tell a little bit about Charita without actually it being her doing the actual telling. In any case, thanks for working through it!
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