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catch22girlI'm obviously on the bad crack.
Good blond-haired blue-eyed girl. Walking undetected through the world, no one would ever stop her because after all, she was Barbie turned to flesh. No one suspected a walking doll.
Only two months ago, she was happy. Her mom and dad were there, her older sister too. England was a land of opportunity, nothing could ever go wrong. Then, she was on her knees at church, praying for a miracle, whispering to Mary, crying to Christ, sniffling into her pillow at night while Katie was out with her latest friends and dad was off on business and mom...well, mom was in a hospital and everyone said she would get better.
Smiling at boys and watching them smile back, on her knees in the boys’ bathroom and thinking this is something she could control.
Mom’s dead, dad said too calmly and returned to work.
At the funeral, unable to cry, feeling angry at the world for nothing and everything. Katie tried to reach out but Marie pulled back and ran back home.
Can’t be here, she thought as she tossed clothing into a suitcase, must get away. The house still smelled like Chanel No. 5 and mom’s clothes were still in her closet and if she listened closely she could still hear the piano and her own childlike voice over the notes. She scribbled a note hastily, afraid Katie would come home, hoping she would, but leaving the note on the front table and slamming the door too loudly.
In an English pub, knocking back a shot, thankful for the lowered drinking age. The music was far away, her hands couldn’t stop shaking and every so often she would feel a wave of nausea that she had to force back down.
Next to her sat a charismatic man with soft brown eyes and softer hands. “They don’t understand you.” he said to the boy sitting next to him. The boy nodded eagerly.
“You think they do, but you see the terrible things that happen every day and wonder...when will it end?”
Never, her mind supplied and she leaned in closer, straining to hear his words.
“They kill millions and go out and have lobster. They have no fear, no shame. Human lives mean nothing to them.”
And he looked like the men of her childhood, noble to her in a way that she could not explain.
He spoke in the language she’d heard while sitting on her mother’s lap and he smelled like a half-forgotten memory.
“Mean nothing to them,” she repeated, without realizing it.
“But, there is a way to stop them, a way to regain some power.”
“How?” She asked and the charismatic man looked at her, as if he hadn’t realized she was there.
And all through the night she heard stories of children and pain. She heard about mothers being slaughtered and fathers being taken and little kids murdered in the streets. And all her former causes, protect the wildlife, be pro-choice, save the cute little puppies seemed absolutely meaningless.
“I want to help,” she slurred, but her will was clear.
And he looked at her and she felt dizzy for reasons that had nothing to do with alcohol.
Back to his hotel room and slowly undressing and trying to stave off the encroaching loneliness.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in a tongue she only vaguely understood.
She held onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and yes...yes...this is what she needed.
The next morning, tangled in sheets and dried sweat, she looked up at him and repeated what she’d said. “I want to help,”
Life from before held no more joy. The world felt paradoxically clearer and darker for her.
“Do you see what your country has done?” He asked her days and weeks later, as she flipped through page after page of a report.
“It’s not my country.” She answered and at his smile she felt warm for the first time in weeks.
“You need to go back,” He told her, as she lay wrapped around him like a coat.
“No, I want to stay here.”
“Your destiny lies elsewhere. Our destiny lies elsewhere.”
Then, she was at home again, feeling choked by the smell of flowers and ill at the thought of the people on their hands and knees making the floors shine.
“Marie, oh...Marie!” and Katie is hugging her, and she thinks dimly she should be crying too.
“From now on, I’m going to be here for you Marie...we’ll both be here for you.” Katie says and strokes her hair like she did when they were younger.
Only sheer will could keep her from laughing, oh Katie, she wanted to say, you’re too late
She walked through the park and the town. She saw targets, she saw collateral damage. I could walk right in there with a bomb, she thought as she gazed at the US Embassy.
Brazenly, she walked up to the gate and smiled at the guard, who smiled back, having no idea she was thinking about if she could grab his gun.
No, he will tell you when you are needed, she told herself, walking on instead.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked for the millionth time that week.
“Better than all right, dad got the news, we’re going back to the states soon.”
Touching down at LAX, making it through security with ease, because no one ever suspected the good blond-haired blue-eyed girl.
________
As I said, strange little snippet, but i'd love some feedback.
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no subject
Date: 2003-03-03 11:32 pm (UTC)Firstly, where did THAT come from?
Secondly, I loved it! Dug how you fleshed out a plausible reason for doing what she did. And I also liked the way you brought the connection between her lost childhood and the new stranger to symbolise comfort she was missing in her life.
In addition, the parts close to the end about being able to bring the US down from the inside, because no-one would suspect her. Inspired. :)
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 06:09 am (UTC)I wish I knew! I was just sitting there, writing my art history paper, when my muse slapped me upside the head and went: write. So I wrote - LOL. I have a history of writing secondary characters :) Plus, ever since last week, I've been really sort of interested in how Marie got that way. I have a pet theory that what we're seeing her do now is another act, because I can't believe that part of her training would not include some kind of resisting torture thing. If that makes any sense.
I was worried that it would come off as too bizarre :)
I'm tellin ya, if she hadn't shot Reza and the agents, there's no way in the world they would have *ever* suspected her. Nice of her to give them a lead ;)
Re:
Date: 2003-03-04 07:59 am (UTC)Trickily persuasive, that boy.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 08:12 am (UTC)I love the ones that like to sneak up on you right before sleep.
Re:
Date: 2003-03-04 08:23 am (UTC)NO! Actually, I don't like that. Because then I never get any damn sleep! lol
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 08:27 am (UTC)Hehehehehe *G*
I used to accidentally write fic instead of oh...school papers. Or at the same time - lol.
Re:
Date: 2003-03-04 08:42 am (UTC)And you're right. Don't want or need sleep when Jack's hanging around.
no subject
Date: 2003-03-04 02:09 pm (UTC)Sleep is sooooo overrated. Hope you feel better!
no subject
Date: 2003-03-14 08:18 pm (UTC)I loved this look into Marie's confused little brain. Felt very much like a stream of consciousness thing, almost like... following her descent into madness (I guess, if you could call it madness). I confess she annoys me on the show, but a lot of it is because sometimes they spend so little time letting us get to know character's past and life and inner thoughts.
This helped me see her more as a person. I understood her better, and felt more emotionally connected to her, in a way that I have not yet on the show.
Hm, what other stuff have you got hiding around...
(I really hope they get CTU Net up and running again! We need to have 24 fic in one place so we can find it.)
no subject
Date: 2003-03-15 11:44 am (UTC)Thanks :) I tend to regard time as a very fluid and not entirely important thing in my drabbles, lol.
I go where my muse drags me. And when I got an opening line, I just couldn't resist.
Thank you again! I can't resist a blank backstory, especially for evil characters.
Oh, I hope it's up again soon ::sends more good vibes to CTUnet::