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Posted on June 2, 2010 at 09:55:20 PM by Charlotte Tweet
 “Well they have someone that cares deeply for them and hopefully parents that love them enough for them to use those skills for better things.” Charlotte watched the children interact with one another as well while idly stroking at Itzal’s coat. Her mother turned her over to her aunt when she was seven for completely selfish reasons – she only wanted a son and not a daughter. Charlotte, of course, felt very little emotions in the matter because while she might have been upset about it when she was a little girl she also grew up realizing that Aunt Shelley was pretty damn awesome by a long shot. So she lucked out despite how sad the story sounded, and her family consisted of other rejects and misfits that Aunt Shelley had picked up along the way. Anya was the saddest story of them all and quietly Charlotte reflected on it with the comfortable silence that rested between her and Adonis. That poor little girl had a mother who was using methamphetamines during her entire pregnancy with Anya and so the girl was born with more fingers than anyone wanted to have. Her mom saw her as a freak despite the obvious fact that she herself was the one who had done this to her baby girl. Anya was thrown aside to orphanages and foster homes once she was well enough to leave the hospital while her mother went a completely different way without even giving the child a name. In Charlotte’s opinion her mother didn’t even deserve to live, and she was sure to hate any name that woman might have given Anya. Enough with the sap, though. Charlotte’s eyes cleared up from the dark fog that had settled in them. She sat back up and smiled at Adonis once more. “Women are like dandelions and buttercups. Well, most of them are.” Charlotte said at random before yawning a bit and pulling her hair back with the one elastic hair band that she had on her wrist. She made a sloppy bun out of it, high enough for the birds at the base of her neck and shoulders to be seen now. There were thirty-nine of them in total – all over. “They look really pretty but they like to root themselves into the hearts of wherever they are planted. In a metaphorical sense I guess that’d be the heart of a man. From there they just consume until they’ve dried it out and then move on to the next best thing.” A lot for knowing someone for a very small amount of time but Charlotte is Charlotte is Charlotte. “There was this guy named Meridian.” Already the story sounded like it was her own despite the fact that she had removed herself entirely from the situation. It was her story – but Charlotte liked to keep things more simple. “Mm, nevermind.” She changed her mind deciding it was too much of a bother to bring up something even she could not remember all the details to. Charlotte Tweet So we did make love. Is that what you're calling it? …this is probably just another one of those cry-for-help things. |
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