Status: Waiting on Layla! It'll get done soon, no worries.
Beneath the Surface
Chapter 1
Everything had fallen apart in such a short time. The blissful years had been so precious, so few. We hadn’t known what we had until we lost it.
Kitora looked at some of her old prose. It was from ninth grade, found in a stash recently discovered while cleaning her attic out. Now Kitora sat inside a hotel room, having brought it along with her.
She glanced at the clock. Still about ten minutes until she had to get ready. That would be enough time to check e-mail.
Standing up from the bed, Kitora stretched and looked around the room. It was spotless, everything organized. The computer sat on the desk, next to a pad of paper that the hotel had given her. Kitora had only used one sheet, to keep track of things.
She walked to the desk and sat in front of the computer. The computer was warm, still on. And when Kitora opened the laptop, the e-mail program was still open. Five new messages. That would be easy to handle in ten minutes.
The first was junk, anyway. Kitora deleted it and opened the second message, from her publicist.
“Kitora,” it said, “You’ve got an interview-”
Kitora didn’t have time to read everything she was booked for, especially not if she had to choose something.
On to the third message, a message from the director of the latest movie. “We’ve finally chosen our girl for the role of Primrose! It’s Monica Verity! She’s-”
That was good to know, but Kitora didn’t have the time to read about all of the girl’s starring roles.
The fourth message read, “Kitora, are you attending the reunion tonight?”
It was from her publicist. A feeling of foreboding rose in her stomach. Of course she was going to attend, since the publicist had insisted that doing something normal would make her appear more “accessible” to fans. Kitora didn’t want to do it. It would require seeing people she didn’t want to see, and it would force her to confront all the fuzz in her mind. Every time she thought back to that time, she’d always sensed that she was forgetting something. Something important.
Kitora glanced at the clock. Damn. She’d brooded over it too long. It was already time to get ready. She’d have to save the other e-mail for later. She snatched her dress from the top of her suitcase, then retreated into the bathroom.
Emerging a few minutes later, she plunked herself down onto the bed, then pulled her foot up and began tying a shoe. It was a dress shoe with a slight heel and ribbons that wrapped around the calf of Kitora’s leg, the ribbons she was tying. The shoes were the same color as the dress, black as the inside of a deep chasm. A classic Kitora dress.
She glanced up when she was finished and looked at the bedside table. On it sat a pair of pill bottles and an invitation. The pill bottles would be necessary later. Now she needed to check that she hadn’t forgotten anything. So she read the invitation.
“Kitora Sanchez,” it read, “you are cordially invited to attend the ten-year reunion of East Woods High School’s class of 2009. This event is formal. Please keep that in mind while choosing an outfit. We hope you all will attend.”
That was that. Kitora had a formal outfit. Now all that was left was the pills.
Kitora placed the invitation back on the bedside table and grabbed the pill bottles. She opened the first and peered inside. It was running low, but there was enough for one dose. She poured two of the pills into her hand. Next, she opened the other bottle and poured into her hand a pair of pills.
Kitora flipped her hand up to her mouth, then drowned them in a mouthful of saliva. She swallowed, ignoring the feeling in her throat so she could try to think of how she’d feel afterward. Pills to suppress her ADHD and pills to soothe the migraines. Sure, these painkillers weren’t really prescribed for migraines, but it gave her a high that nothing else did. Besides, nothing else worked. It was a great solution.
Ready to go, Kitora stood up. She set the pill bottles on her bedside table and headed outside for the event.
Kitora looked at some of her old prose. It was from ninth grade, found in a stash recently discovered while cleaning her attic out. Now Kitora sat inside a hotel room, having brought it along with her.
She glanced at the clock. Still about ten minutes until she had to get ready. That would be enough time to check e-mail.
Standing up from the bed, Kitora stretched and looked around the room. It was spotless, everything organized. The computer sat on the desk, next to a pad of paper that the hotel had given her. Kitora had only used one sheet, to keep track of things.
She walked to the desk and sat in front of the computer. The computer was warm, still on. And when Kitora opened the laptop, the e-mail program was still open. Five new messages. That would be easy to handle in ten minutes.
The first was junk, anyway. Kitora deleted it and opened the second message, from her publicist.
“Kitora,” it said, “You’ve got an interview-”
Kitora didn’t have time to read everything she was booked for, especially not if she had to choose something.
On to the third message, a message from the director of the latest movie. “We’ve finally chosen our girl for the role of Primrose! It’s Monica Verity! She’s-”
That was good to know, but Kitora didn’t have the time to read about all of the girl’s starring roles.
The fourth message read, “Kitora, are you attending the reunion tonight?”
It was from her publicist. A feeling of foreboding rose in her stomach. Of course she was going to attend, since the publicist had insisted that doing something normal would make her appear more “accessible” to fans. Kitora didn’t want to do it. It would require seeing people she didn’t want to see, and it would force her to confront all the fuzz in her mind. Every time she thought back to that time, she’d always sensed that she was forgetting something. Something important.
Kitora glanced at the clock. Damn. She’d brooded over it too long. It was already time to get ready. She’d have to save the other e-mail for later. She snatched her dress from the top of her suitcase, then retreated into the bathroom.
Emerging a few minutes later, she plunked herself down onto the bed, then pulled her foot up and began tying a shoe. It was a dress shoe with a slight heel and ribbons that wrapped around the calf of Kitora’s leg, the ribbons she was tying. The shoes were the same color as the dress, black as the inside of a deep chasm. A classic Kitora dress.
She glanced up when she was finished and looked at the bedside table. On it sat a pair of pill bottles and an invitation. The pill bottles would be necessary later. Now she needed to check that she hadn’t forgotten anything. So she read the invitation.
“Kitora Sanchez,” it read, “you are cordially invited to attend the ten-year reunion of East Woods High School’s class of 2009. This event is formal. Please keep that in mind while choosing an outfit. We hope you all will attend.”
That was that. Kitora had a formal outfit. Now all that was left was the pills.
Kitora placed the invitation back on the bedside table and grabbed the pill bottles. She opened the first and peered inside. It was running low, but there was enough for one dose. She poured two of the pills into her hand. Next, she opened the other bottle and poured into her hand a pair of pills.
Kitora flipped her hand up to her mouth, then drowned them in a mouthful of saliva. She swallowed, ignoring the feeling in her throat so she could try to think of how she’d feel afterward. Pills to suppress her ADHD and pills to soothe the migraines. Sure, these painkillers weren’t really prescribed for migraines, but it gave her a high that nothing else did. Besides, nothing else worked. It was a great solution.
Ready to go, Kitora stood up. She set the pill bottles on her bedside table and headed outside for the event.
♠ ♠ ♠
Welcome to my second attempt at co-writing a story! It's rather short, I admit, and isn't the greatest. I thought it would be longer, and I thought it would need more revision. That's why I procrastinated so long.Oh, and just so you know, the story is based - very loosely - on reality. Most of the emotions will be real, to an extent, and the events might be based on reality. A lot is changed, though, and most of the characters don't exist.
As for Primrose, she's a character in one of my other stories, Tainted. (You'd know it as Heartless Passion.) Confused? She doesn't show up for the first few chapters, and I haven't written that far in that story.
Enjoy! Review, please!
~Layla