The Written Word

“Okay class, you have exactly 30 minutes to write your letter, then I’m taking them away to be mailed,” Mrs Croft told us sternly, her bright pink lips pulled down at the corners. We all shifted in our seats; curious about whom we were getting as pen pals. She began slowly winding her way around our desks, handing out envelopes containing paper to write on and the name of our famous pen pals, along with a sheet of prompts in case we got stuck. “I ask that you wait to open your letter until I’ve finished giving them out. If you don’t like whom you’ve gotten, that’s mighty unfortunate however there will be no switching. Mr Henderson has them all already assigned. May I remind you that though these celebrities have agreed to give their time to help with this project, giving them any personal information such as addresses or phone numbers, or asking for theirs, will immediately gain you an F.”

I once again thanked the stars that we only had this evil bitch every second Wednesday, when our regular media teacher, Mr Henderson, was away at the fortnightly P&C meeting. I slid further into my chair, kind of dreading this assignment. I was sure I was going to get someone completely lame like Susan Boyle or one of the retards from Jersey Shore.

I snapped out of my thoughts as Mrs Croft slapped a cream envelope on my desk before me. I gestured with her hand for me to sit up straight and I just barely resisted the urge to give her the finger. I simply straightened my spine and gave her a dark smile. She looked rather disturbed and shuffled herself away from me, blinking rapidly.

My hand twitched as I realised that would be a cool song title: Blinking Rapidly. I began hum under my breath, picturing the chords I would use for the bridge, and tapping along to a silent beat. Something soft hit me in the head and I was taken from my distraction as I looked beside me where my best friend Brooke was staring pointedly, along with a bunch of surrounding kids too. She had thrown a ball of scrunched up paper at my face. Bitch. “You’re doing it again,” she whispered. I nodded and shrugged, the class was used to it, but I’m sure if it continued the teacher/hell-beast would give me a detention. Lord knows I have enough of those to last a life time.

Finally she announced curtly, “You may begin.” Everyone excitedly dived forward to practically rip open the envelope to reveal their selected famous partner. I hesitated, staring at my own cautiously. All around me there was a mixture of squeals and groans. A loud bang made me look up to see the Queen Bee, Lexi Moore sprawled on the floor, having fainted. A slightly dazed smile sat upon her perfectly glossed lips.

Aaron Sanders, leaned over and looked at the note with the name scrawled on it. “She got Justin Bieber,” he explained. The class was then divided in reactions. Some people groaned, some people laughed, some people began to cry in jealousy and some people (meaning me) began to fake gagging noises.

“Mr Sanders, please take Ms Moore to the nurse then return immediately,” Mrs Croft drawled tiredly, as though sitting at the mahogany desk and sipping coffee was such a tiring task.

Another paper ball hit my face and I turned to look at Brooke in annoyance. She was holding up her card with Leighton Meester – Gossip Girl actress written on it clearly. She had a large smile as she bounced in her chair, holding back squeals. I honestly knew nothing about that person, except she was on Brooke’s favourite show. She was studying to be an actress and I recalled her mentioning that chick was one of her idols. I gave her a grin and thumb up as she took out her sparkly pink feather pen and began to right in purple, bubbly letters.

I glanced at my watch, only 25 minutes left to write this shit. Mr Henderson was my favourite teacher and we were actually pretty good buddies. I didn’t want to disappoint him by failing the first ever assignment in his class this year. I chewed my lip as I thought it over. Since Teach and I were such ‘besties’, surely he wouldn’t give me a shit pen pal. He knew about my work ethic, and my interests. This gave me some hope, and I looked down at the envelope cautiously. With a sigh I reached forward, ready to face what would be the next year of my life.

Once I had flipped open the seal, I shoved my hand inside and pulled out the small piece of white cardboard. I swallowed nervously but realised all this procrastination was just pointless and turned it over, revealing my fate.

Alex Gaskarth

Who the fuck?

It took me yet another moment to realise there was more writing on the card. I blinked and re-read it carefully, wondering if my eyes were deceiving me.

Alex Gaskarth – Lead singer of the band ‘All Time Low’

I felt a relieved grin pulling at the corners of my lips. I knew that band, I had a couple of their songs. I had gotten into them after they did Warped Tour a year or so back, but I wasn’t a fan of the new stuff so much. I remembered liking their stuff somewhat though, and I knew I was going to have to research some more if I wanted to have any common ground for us to talk about.

Gaining a new outlook on the whole thing, I pulled out my shitty blue biro which was completely covered in my teeth marks as I had a nasty writing utensil biting habit.

Dear Alex Gaskarth,

I began slowly, my horrible chicken scratch writing only slightly better than normal as I tried to make it at least slightly readable. I had no idea what to say. Not even a little bit. So I went with my gut, knowing that if I stopped for even a moment I would over think it and come across as lame.

What’s up? I’m Belle Darling, I know it’s a weird ass name. But with a name like Gaskarth I don’t expect to hear any comments about it from you. So… You’re famous, congrats by the way. You probably already know, but the reason I’m writing you is we have this assignment in my media class where we get to talk about our area of interest with a professional. Or something like that, I actually think the school just wants the publicity. Besides, you’re getting paid to reply anyway right? Truth is I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to you, so I’m going to use the prompt sheet we were given.

About yourself: I’m a chick and am 19, I'll be 20 in 3 months. I got held back in 8th grade when I got into trouble with the law (don’t ask). I’m in my first year of University, and am an aspiring singer/musician/songwriter, though I would really prefer not to go solo. I hate sell-outs, they piss me off to no end. I work at a café and at a music shop. I’m Australian, obviously, since this is an Australian school and shit. I have a younger sister Sarah and a younger brother Nathan. I can’t leave my house without my iPod, and I absolutely adore Skittles.

What do you look like: Is it just me or is that one creepy as fuck? I guess it’s only fair, I kinda know what you look like. Nice hair by the way. Um, I have died black and blue hair. I’m kind of tanned, but I busk at the beach on weekends so that’s a given. I’m not very tall, I have blue eyes and 3 tattoos, and they're not some shitty butterfly tramp stamps either.

Are you a fan: I’m a fan. Kind of. I know some of your stuff since you did Warped a couple years back. Now that we’re pen-pals I suppose I gotta look into some of your more recent stuff, I’ll get right on that.

What would you say if you met face to face: I don’t know? What’s up? How’s life?

Questions: Do you like vegemite? Because it’s amazing, but every American person I know says its shit. What’s wrong with you people? Who’s your favourite band or musical influence? Do you like being in a band? Do you all get along?

Generic and boring, I know. I write lyrics, not letters. Anyway, I hope you haven’t died of boredom, that would suck. Keep up the great music, and if you could reply so I get some participation marks for the assignment, that’d be fantastic and I’d owe you big time.

Thanks for reading I suppose,

Belle ;)

I only meant to add a smiley face, but my hand accidently smudged the still wet ink and made it into a wink face. I cringed, because that wasn’t creepy at all. Note the sarcasm.

I looked down at the watch and saw I had 10 minutes still left. I sighed and looked to Brooke who was still furiously scribbling down words onto every available inch of paper. I wondered what to do before I figured this guy probably wouldn’t care if I doodled over the page.

When time was up the remaining empty space was covered in music notes and a couple skulls and crossbones. Quickly, before the old hag teacher could come and collect it I scribbled in one last note.

P.S. Sorry about the drawings, class is boring as fuck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“OMG, what if she replies?” Brooke asked breathlessly as we made our way from the school grounds slowly.

“Of course she’s going to reply, she’s being paid to,” I reminded her dully, looking up at the sky and hoping Sarah got home before the storm began.

“Aren’t you at least a little bit excited Belle? Alex Gaskarth! The sexy beast himself is going to be in contact with you for one whole year,” I smiled and nodded, acting like I was as excited as she was. She saw through it however. She was the actress, not me.

My mind was still on tonight’s plans. I realised I didn’t have anything set for dinner, I cringed, I would have to bring home leftovers again. Brooke continued to prattle on about the assignment; it was getting on my nerves. However I let her talk it through, she was so happy, I wasn’t going to be the downer in the conversation.

“Here I am,” I cut her off abruptly, motioning to the diner beside us. She stopped talking and gave me a sad look, one I was all too used to. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s only 6 hours on Wednesdays, so I’ll be fine.”

“I can go watch Nathan and Sarah-“

“Mrs Frederick from 3A is looking after them until I get home,” I told her gently. She nodded but still had that expression on her face. The one I hated. “I really have to get in there before Dustin comes out to kill me, and then brings me back to clean up the mess.”

She gave a shaky laugh but nodded, pulling me into a fierce hug that made me as uncomfortable as always. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she sighed, straightening her shirt red skirt and white tube top. She ran a hand through her blonde locks and watched me with those chocolate eyes. I nodded and gave her a large, almost genuine smile.

“See you,” I called as she walked away, her stilettos echoing off the pavement as she walked.

With a heavy sigh I pulled open the door. It was relatively empty inside, only a business man in the corner eating a salad and talking on a mobile, old Mr Chapman who came in at precisely 3 o’clock every week day for lunch because his doctor told him to get some exercise so he walks here then orders a bacon burger, and Mrs Gilbert who waved cheerily as she continued to type on her computer. “Belle, let’s go! You’ve got tables to clean!” Dustin Bateman called from the kitchen, he was the owner of ‘The Golden Toast’ a parody of the Gold Coast, where we lived. He thought he was so clever and witty.

“I’m going Dustin!” I called back friendlily, holding back from calling him a naughty word.

Once I was in the back I tugged on a frilly green apron, which clashed horribly with my hair, over my Guns ‘n’ Roses shirt and pulled my chest length hair up onto the top of my head in a messy bun so it was out of the way. Then I slipped off my blue converse and pulled on my off-yellow skates. I tied up the green laces and stood up smoothly, gliding out the doors of the dark locker room and into the brightly lit café, rag and notepad at the ready.

“Sarah! Nathan! I’m home!” I called out as I shoved all my weight against the old red door. It swung open heavily and I just barely had enough time to stop it from crashing into the wall behind it. God knows it’s taken enough damage in the two years we’d lived here.

“Belle, Belle! My tooth fell out! Mrs Frederick said to put it under my pillow so the tooth fairy would come and leave me money, but Sarah said the tooth fairy’s fake. She’s not, is she? The tooth fairy’s real, right?”

Nathan hounded me the second the door was closed and bolted behind me. I smiled down at him, sifting the bag in my hands. “Of course she’s real Nate, ignore Sarah.”

He was 12 and half, but he had an intellectual disability, so he was a little immature when it came to… well, maturity. His mop of brown hair fell into his face and I made a mental note to start saving for a haircut for him. “I knew it!”

I laughed gently, rustling his hair. “Speaking of our lovely sister, where is she?”

“In our room, listening to the radio,” he told me. I nodded and put my school satchel and the plastic bag containing our dinner on the small wooden table off to the side. “She kicked me out.”

I sighed and pulled off my old, worn out Blink 182 hoodie, throwing it over one of the chairs. Nate went back to what he was doing with some crayons, in the lounge room. If you could even call it that. The lounge room and kitchen were both connected so it was just one big room. Then a thin hallway broke away from that and off one side was my room, and off the other were the tiny bathroom and my sibling’s room. I knocked on the door and about a minute and a half later an annoyed looking Sarah stared up at me.

Her light brown hair was in pigtails and she had some kind of face mask on, of course I had no idea where she got it from. “What?”

“Are you hungry? I have some food from the café-“

“Thanks, but I had a real meal tonight. There were vegetables and everything. Mrs Frederick made sure of that. I’m glad, it’s a change from the shit you bring home every few days,” she snapped harshly.

I forced down the lump in my throat at her truthful words. “Language,” I scolded to keep my true feelings hidden.

She scoffed bitterly, “Please Belle, I’ve heard you say much worse. Don’t be a hypocrite.”

Then she slammed the door in my face. I frowned and took a deep breath to steady myself. Fighting wouldn’t solve this situation. She was only 15! Though I suppose circumstances made us all grow up quicker than we should have had to. Except Nate of course, he had the gift of true innocence. Lucky bastard.

With a resigned sigh I decided to just leave it alone, every now and again she got in these kinds of moods, taking everything out on me, like it was my fault our parents were gone. I walked back into the living room where Nate was still happily drawing on the paper in front of him. I wasn’t feeling so hungry any more. I began to pile the day old pie into the tiny fridge in our shitty kitchen. I glanced down at my watch, wondering whether it was too late to catch an episode of the Simpsons.

With a gasp I realised it was 9:30. I hastily slammed the door closed and untied my hair, letting it fall from its pile atop my head. “Bed time sweetie,” I called to Nate. He nodded quietly and slowly began putting his things away. I melted a little, he was such a good boy, and he didn’t deserve any of this. I couldn’t even send him to a proper school, one specialised for his condition. He and Sarah had to go to a shit public school, which had a small and underfunded disability programme. I felt guilty, going off to my preppy school, an academy for the arts. I had gotten a scholarship in year 9 and transferred. The only reason I stayed was because my Dad had worked so hard to help me get it, because he knew it was my dream to be a performer.

“Belle?” Nate asked, tugging at my sleeve. His head came to just below my chest and he tried to hold back a yawn as he spoke. “Are you going to tuck me and Sarah into bed?”

I paused and tilted my head thoughtfully. Rap music was pouring through the cracks in their room as my sister tried miserably to sing along with Eminem. If I had enough money for a camera phone, that shit would have gone on YouTube. “Actually Nate, our sister wants to be alone for a while, so you’re gonna sleep in my room with me,” I told him. He smiled happily and nodded. “Mrs Frederick made you have a bath before, right?”

“Yep,” he nodded proudly. He was finally old enough that he could almost always shower by himself, though some days he lost the ability to turn the taps or dress himself.

“Good boy,” I praised happily. “You go get all comfortable in my bed and I’ll be in, in one moment.”

He walked down the hall to my room, cringing away from the music from Sarah’s room. I had a double bed in my room, while the kids had two singles. Sarah had argued with me for days that she wanted and deserved the double, but in the end I won with the argument that sometimes Nate needed to stay with me, and it was better if I had it.

With a sigh I pulled out my keys and found the smallest of them all. I reached up to the very top cabinet and stuck it in the key hole, turning it until it clicked. I pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and quickly unscrewed the cap, taking a deep sip, allowing the vodka to relax me somewhat. I took three drinks in total, then put the cap back on, put the bottle away and relocked the door, keeping my baby sister away from that stuff was a priority.

The memory of Nate rambling on about the Tooth Fairy had me frozen as I desperately searched my mind for something to slip under his pillow. It hit me relatively quickly, and with a heavy sigh I dug my hand into the back pocket of my jeans, pulling out the $5 in silver change that I received from tips today.

With a final sigh I reached over and flicked off the lights, so only the soft glow of the street light filtered through the apartment through the window at the end of the hall. I heard a bunch of teenagers laughing loudly, and the wheels of a car screeching dangerously. It probably sounded stupid, but a large part of me was dying to be out there with them.

No matter what happened I would always be a partier at heart.

With a wistful glance out the window I entered my bedroom to the sound of my already snoring brother. Alex Gaskarth didn’t pass my mind once that night. Or the night after that. Or the one after that.

In fact, it wasn’t until a week and a half later that I remembered writing to him at all.