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Fidget, didget, fidget
I am SO fidgety. Pondering an ice cream run.
I feel like there's lightning on the inside of my skin.
Hrm.
Just for the hell of it, I'm using this as a spam-zone, since I'm... Jittery.
I mean, hell, I'm even doing bad limericks in #dwc.
I Know What I'm Here For
by Ana Lyssie Cotton
There was something in the air, an electricity that vibrated through the skin and rattled the bones gently. She fought against it for a long time, ignoring it, bundling it in with other energies and forcing it down, underneath it all. Sometimes she was able to harness it, turn it to her own ends. But it was always there, inexhaustable, under her skin, in her hair.
It caused her fingernails and toenails to grow. Her hair frizzed and fuzzed, sending sparks crackling out unexpectedly.
At times it bubbled up and snagged in other peoples' bodies, causing them to twitch uncontrollably, or pass out. A look, a touch, and they'd convulse. It drove her insane, being unable to control it. Unable to make it stop.
She could pass it on to people, too. With a touch, they'd be shocked insensate. So she stopped touching people. Unless they annoyed her.
The first one was the brat who sat next to her in second period. He liked to leer mildly at her and make wriggles with his eyebrows. And he wasn't at all interesting or nice to look at. So she accidently brushed him, one day. A mild shock, it sent him to the floor, startled.
Next time it was one of the girls who took chemistry with her. A nice kid, but a little irritating--she was always sneezing at the wrong moment, or spilling things. The shock sent her into a faint for a few minutes and she went home for two days.
After that, she began using it when she felt like it. Sometimes zapping her busmates, or the kids at 'her' table in the lunchroom. It became a power trip, a heady experience in control that sent a rush through her unlike any other.
Kids around her became subtly afraid of her. They knew she was doing something. They were sure of it. But they couldn't figure out what. Even those who had experience the shock were unable to decide what it was. So they began avoiding her. None would touch her. There was always at least one desk between the girl and everyone else. There were cordons in the lunchroom to make sure her table was free.
It disurbed some of the adults in the school that this girl was being ostracized. They tried to single her out for special attention, hoping the other students would stop their isolation.
She ignored their efforts, and continued her reign of zapping.
If her parents paid attention to the girl, it was to make sure she was getting all A's and turning in her homework on time. They didn't care about whether she was happy. Whether she was sad. They didn't even go to parent-teacher conferences.
She never felt neglected. She liked it this way. Her parents didn't interfere with her life, and she ignored theirs. Even when an accident happened, and her mother was hospitalised, she continued to do as she pleased.
A few years passed. The girl grew up and moved on to college. As she grew, she became averagely pretty, but her powers gave her an especial charm. The boys (and later, men) knew that to not ask her out was to risk a painful shock, if not days recuperating.
Football-players, basketball stars, budding muscians, even the poets and drama Kings all fell at her feet, not pleased, but willing.
----=-==-=-
End of spam. Hrm.
Anyway. Back later.
I feel like there's lightning on the inside of my skin.
Hrm.
Just for the hell of it, I'm using this as a spam-zone, since I'm... Jittery.
I mean, hell, I'm even doing bad limericks in #dwc.
I Know What I'm Here For
by Ana Lyssie Cotton
There was something in the air, an electricity that vibrated through the skin and rattled the bones gently. She fought against it for a long time, ignoring it, bundling it in with other energies and forcing it down, underneath it all. Sometimes she was able to harness it, turn it to her own ends. But it was always there, inexhaustable, under her skin, in her hair.
It caused her fingernails and toenails to grow. Her hair frizzed and fuzzed, sending sparks crackling out unexpectedly.
At times it bubbled up and snagged in other peoples' bodies, causing them to twitch uncontrollably, or pass out. A look, a touch, and they'd convulse. It drove her insane, being unable to control it. Unable to make it stop.
She could pass it on to people, too. With a touch, they'd be shocked insensate. So she stopped touching people. Unless they annoyed her.
The first one was the brat who sat next to her in second period. He liked to leer mildly at her and make wriggles with his eyebrows. And he wasn't at all interesting or nice to look at. So she accidently brushed him, one day. A mild shock, it sent him to the floor, startled.
Next time it was one of the girls who took chemistry with her. A nice kid, but a little irritating--she was always sneezing at the wrong moment, or spilling things. The shock sent her into a faint for a few minutes and she went home for two days.
After that, she began using it when she felt like it. Sometimes zapping her busmates, or the kids at 'her' table in the lunchroom. It became a power trip, a heady experience in control that sent a rush through her unlike any other.
Kids around her became subtly afraid of her. They knew she was doing something. They were sure of it. But they couldn't figure out what. Even those who had experience the shock were unable to decide what it was. So they began avoiding her. None would touch her. There was always at least one desk between the girl and everyone else. There were cordons in the lunchroom to make sure her table was free.
It disurbed some of the adults in the school that this girl was being ostracized. They tried to single her out for special attention, hoping the other students would stop their isolation.
She ignored their efforts, and continued her reign of zapping.
If her parents paid attention to the girl, it was to make sure she was getting all A's and turning in her homework on time. They didn't care about whether she was happy. Whether she was sad. They didn't even go to parent-teacher conferences.
She never felt neglected. She liked it this way. Her parents didn't interfere with her life, and she ignored theirs. Even when an accident happened, and her mother was hospitalised, she continued to do as she pleased.
A few years passed. The girl grew up and moved on to college. As she grew, she became averagely pretty, but her powers gave her an especial charm. The boys (and later, men) knew that to not ask her out was to risk a painful shock, if not days recuperating.
Football-players, basketball stars, budding muscians, even the poets and drama Kings all fell at her feet, not pleased, but willing.
----=-==-=-
End of spam. Hrm.
Anyway. Back later.