It's 1:30 in the morning and it's exam week at my school so I don't have to be there for makeup day tomorrow. So, I wrote this. I'm a behind on a few episodes (the last I saw was Nina finding the thing in the bottom of the dollhouse). Don't judge me, I'm waiting for my dad and my brother so we can watch it together.
Patricia Williamson flopped down on her bed, wondering why everyone had gone so crazy. Over boys, that was. Joy was obsessing over Fabian even though he was clearly Nina's, Mara was changing herself to make Mick break up with her even though she loved him, and Amber was putting up with Alfie's…Alfie-ness and making him do all sorts of crazy things.
Not to mention, everyone kept taking the advice she wasn't giving. Joy tricked herself into believing she had to convince Fabian they had a lot in common, and Mara the exact opposite.
God, was she the only sane one left?
As everyone was out with their respective others and she was the only person in the house besides Trudy, Patricia had nothing to do. She plugged her headphones into her ears and blasted Paramore and Avril Lavigne, then pulled out a small purple notebook from underneath her mattress.
Nobody knew Patricia enjoyed writing. Nobody but her English teachers—not even Joy. She only did so when she was able to be alone, but she loved spinning elaborate stories, tales from her own mind. And the occasional poem.
She re-read the last few paragraphs she'd written and continued from there.
Jerome Clark walked calmly into Anubis House; having helped Alfie with Amber, he then left the two alone. As soon as she heard the door open Trudy came rushing out. "Who's there?" she called. She relaxed when she saw him. "Oh, it's just you, Jerome."
"I'm afraid it is."
"So what're you doing here?"
He shrugged. "I don't really have much else to do."
Trudy nodded, then said, "Well why don't you go talk to Patricia? She's here, too."
Jerome paused. "She's here? Where?"
"Oh, in her room, I suppose."
Jerome got a mischievous glint in his eye. "I reckon I'll have to go talk to her then."
One…two…three! "Boo!" Jerome yelled, flinging open the door. Patricia, having been lost in her own world, jumped about a foot at the sudden outburst and she let out a yelp. Her notebook went flying into the air, landing right at Jerome's feet.
"Oh, what's this, Trixie?" He picked it up. "A diary?"
"Give it back, you slimeball!" Patricia grabbed at the journal but Jerome held it out of her reach. Damn. Why did Jerome have to be so freaking tall? Still, she kept up her futile try to retrieve her writing. Jerome opened it and started reading, twisting away from her hands and moving as he read so she wouldn't catch him, dodging all her attempts.
" 'He knew why she couldn't tell him her secret, for the simplest reason in the world. She was in love with him.' " he read in a mocking voice. He looked at her. "Really Trixie, that's not like you. It's so…" He searched for the right word. "Girly," he decided.
"I can be girly sometimes, you know!" Of course, Jerome had to pick the worst possible section of the story to read. The rest of it was pure adventure, fighting, and action. The romance was only a fraction of the overall percentage of the story. One of the main characters was a girl pretending to be a boy. What Jerome had read was the boy finally figuring that out.
One last grab and then Patricia stopped and simply regarded Jerome with a steely look on her face, one that would make most people shrink back in terror. Jerome wasn't most people.
He flipped back to the first page and read silently to himself, blocking her few intermittent reaches and ignoring her requests for her book. Slowly, his eyes widened.
"This is really good," he told her honestly.
Patricia froze at the unexpected praise. "What?" she asked, dumbfounded, her accent getting thicker than normal on that one word.
"I said, this is really good," he repeated.
"Thanks…I guess," Patricia said, her face morphing into one of confusion and the statement coming out more of a question.
"Can I read the rest of this?"
"Uhh…" She was shocked, still. Jerome Clark was asking to read? One of her stories? Was this a dream or a nightmare? She fought the urge to pinch herself.
"Great. Thanks, Trixie." With that, he left the room, leaving Patricia to wonder what on earth just happened and why she was letting him get away with it.
Maybe she was just as crazy as Joy, Mara, Amber and Nina.
Should I continue or should I just leave it a oneshot?