pretty girl

(she'll remember your name, as she's consumed by the flames.)


What could've been her outcome? She could've been a perfectly average angel, with her golden locks and muted lavender eyes. She could've grown up, grown out of her silly one-letter name, and adjust into an actual name.

It would've been nice, J pondered to herself, as she clutched her Petilil tightly. The little Pokemon never left the young girl's side, at least, if J's free will was involved in the matter. If her free will wasn't involved in the matter, the Petilil was almost always yanked abruptly from her grasp, causing the girl to immediately redden, her lavender eyes turning violet and porcelain cheeks turning like the hottest blaze. Her tantrums were legendary among the caretakers. She would lash out, bite, scream, and beg to see her mother.

Her mother was a beautiful woman with violet eyes, and rose-colored hair. J thought that her mother was the prettiest one of them all, even prettier than the blonde-haired woman that prided on being her mother's companion. Everyone else, however, thought that J's mother wasn't prettier than the blonde. It made her very, oh so very sad.

Most of the kids didn't think like Jay. She was..."unique" according to her mother. She could hear what other kids could not. At least, most of the other kids.

There were some like her. There just had to be! It was so painfully there...but not.

She confused herself a lot, during her thought-induced trances. Her mother said it was nothing to worry about, and that her head was simply adjusting to the complicated words she pondered about. There was nothing to worry about.

There was nothing to worry about.


"J. It's your turn."

The green-haired man had a scary voice. It frighted her, immensely. She didn't know if he had a one-lettered name, or a name at all. He sneered at the other kids, and gave her particularly nasty looks. Her mother said that he was mean to everyone, but that she should do whatever he says. If she didn't...

Well, her mother would become very quiet when she tried to explain the consequences of disobeying the green-haired man.

She would become just as quiet as death.


J would be led through a twisting, and turning hallway. It was a dark gray color, the color of dismal depression. The man's grip was callous, and vice-like. She couldn't escape from his grasp.

Not like she tried. She was four foot one, standing next to a towering man with eyes like fire. There was no way she would be able to stand against him. He scared her.

He scared everyone. Even L, with his brave facade, and battle-scarred Sandile. It didn't matter the occasion - he would be there when someone needed a hero. He was courageous, many of the children decided.

J didn't agree.

His eyes were absolutely lifeless.

One needed life to be able to fight for it, right?


After being pushed into a bleak room, J would be greeted by a shady physician. He would be covered from head-to-toe in black clothes. The only thing that set him apart from an undead mummy were the shocking white hair, and the sadistic blue eyes.

He scared her, but not as much as the robe-clad man did. J knew that this man couldn't hurt her, not like the other man did.

It stung, though. She whimpered, and thrashed, when he showed her the needle that would be inserted through her blue veins. He wouldn't make a sound, wouldn't force her onto the metal hospital bed, nothing. He would simply grasp her arm tightly, and allow the sedative to do the rest of the work for him.

After that, everything would tilt, and whirl, and J wouldn't know where to go.


Hours, maybe days later, J woke up in the comfort of her scratchy bedsheets. Her Petilil was by her side, curled up in a little ball. The girl flailed, and let out a yelp, trying to find where the needle pierced her skin. She looked, and searched, but to no avail. Her search was futile. She couldn't find the evidence of a needle's existence.

She couldn't show her mother what they were doing to her. What were they doing to her? She still had all ten fingers, all ten toes, and she seemed to be in a state of good health.

What were they doing to her?

She had a feeling that no one would tell her, even if she asked nicely.


There were days that J felt like she was okay. She would talk and giggle with B, they would talk about everything. L would join them later, and the three of them would play.

They were happy.

They were fine.


These were the memories that J relived as she was being eaten alive.

Dear CoffeeIncluded,

I originally was going to write you a 1984!Alphabet Soup fic, as a gift. I procrastinated on that, and got a new idea, and an idea after that. When you released Chapter 34 of your story, however, I put all of those to the side, thanks to J. J became my new favorite character, replacing Lawrence, and Cheren. This was an incredible feat, mind you. I felt awful about never finishing your 1984 fic, though, so eventually, it will be uploaded onto here.

While I was writing this fic, however, I started reading Homestuck. It caused all fics to be put on hold, due to the fact I'm lame.

Anyways, I want to congratulate you on the success of Alphabet Soup! I remember the days when it only had eleven reviews, four of them being mine. Or something like that, I can't remember anymore, considering there are over 700 reviews.

I've read the last two chapters. I just haven't reviewed them, because of debate camp. My apologies. I want to express how much I've enjoyed the fic, and I cannot wait for the sequel.

I hope you enjoy this fic~!

Your lazy, but faithful reviewer,

- R. Vienna