Krystle Flower in...

There's more to life than chocolate and Harry Potter

Part One: Borderline

I have this indefineable urge to tell my story from the beginning, so as to clear up any sort of 'skepticism' you might have. However, if I told it, it would take to long. I am growing up in a household where family values disappeared a long, long time ago. What I mean is that in other homes, the man plays a dominant role in the child's developement. They don't drink so much that every sentence is like listening to slurs and swears. They laugh, they cry, they get angry like every man is allowed to.

In my house, anything and I mean *anything* goes.

You can have an obsession with having a boyfriend online, be worried about which college you'll be going to, have an obsession with Harry Potter and chocolate at the same time and no one will try and stop you. Music is played as loud as you want it to be. Everything is hunky. It's just that you don't have a father.

So, I guess this is where I'll begin my story, even if it isn't about me. I just tell it like it is.

You see, there are people in life who have phobias against the strangest things. Others, like myself, are undisclosed Schizophrenics and Multiple Personality Disorders. It's all one big jumble. But others...well, others are just strange.

Enter Marsey Greuls. She is a friend of mine who is the worst of every human being. Sarcastic, Cynical, Bitchy, Slutty...[notice that it is all the stuff that I am minus the slutty...] the list can go on in this vein for some time. However, she has taught me a valuable lesson.

"Kryssy," she mutters as usual, slipping in beside me at my locker. "I'll never understand *why* you are obsessed with Harry Potter. I think you are paranormal." Then she walks away. No explanation, no allowance to hear some type of come back.

This is Marsey. Her life has been a lot tougher than she cares to admit. Being friends with her is like some type of bad habit; it won't go away, no matter how much you say you hate it or despise it. Like a fly.

So, I slam the locker shut, bite my tongue, and head off in the opposite direction -- praying that I have the moral strength not to strangle her. Which, by the way, is almost non-existent.

***

"There is more to life than chocolate and Harry Potter, Kryssy. I know that, you *should* know that...but you don't," Marsey sneers while taking a sip of her chocolate milk. "There is only one thing that I can say to you -- the real world doesn't have Nimbus 2000's and trains that take you away from your pain. You just have to suffer."

Kryssy bites her tongue, leaning against the tree. "Say what you want, Marsey. But if I remember correctly, I am *not* the one who has problems perceiving reality."

"This? Coming from a self-procclaimed Schizo? That's awfully modest of you, Kryssy...tell me, which voice is speaking right now?"

Kryssy stands, bumping her head on an abnormally low branch. One of these days... "Are you through yet? I'm getting quite tired of lectures right about now."

But Marsey doesn't answer...just sits, looking up at the sky and plucking at the grass between her fingers. Her face is relaxed, revealing no emotion. However, her eyes...her eyes look like deep holes within pale snow. Kryssy, frustrated and fighting back homicidal urges, slings her bag over her shoulder and stomps off, muttering to herself.

***

Marsey. Evil. Cynical. Bitter. She's never had one solid thing in her life -- not one withstanding friendship, not one boyfriend or ounce of family who cares. I guess that's why I feel the need to be her friend. But there are things about myself I could never tell *anyone*. Skeletons don't like to dance, therefore I'm not forcing them to. And judging by the way Marsey acts now, I don't want to know much about her, either. It would probably be something too traumatic to think of, and I know that things are bad -- really bad.