Carrot Cake 11, Coffee 20: Clearer Now, Rum Raisin 13: All For The Best
Title: Clearer Now
Main Story: In The Heart. Now with shiny new introduction!
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 11 (kneel), coffee 20 (flute), Malt (summer challenge 119: No, it doesn't have to stop), fresh blueberries (The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out.).
Word Count: 738
Rating: PG
Summary: Olivia gets a wakeup call.
Notes: At the time this is set, Olivia has undiagnosed clinical depression.
She failed a jury before she realized that something was wrong.
Olivia sat on a bench outside the music building, holding her flute case in hands so cold they were numb, and couldn't believe that it had just happened. Sure, she'd played badly, but that badly? Surely not so badly as to fail...
She winced, remembering. No, it had been that bad. It was always that bad, these days. Her hands shook on the keys of her flute or the piano; she hit wrong notes and blew screeching sounds that couldn’t, even charitably, be caused music.
And it had taken her until today to notice, or care.
"Olivia?"
Professor Riedel. Her advisor. She flinched. "Yes, ma'am."
The professor sat down beside her. "You want to tell me what just happened in there?" she asked, voice uncharacteristically gentle.
"I failed," Olivia said, simply.
"I had noticed as much," Professor Riedel said, a hint of her usual waspish tones creeping into her voice. She gentled it again after a few words. "Olivia, I know I've only known you for a few months, but I think I know you well enough to know that this is very unlike you."
Olivia clenched her hands on her flute and watched her knuckles turn white. "I just don't understand," she whispered, miserable. "I practiced, Professor. I really did."
"I know you did," came the rather surprising response. "That's why I'm so surprised. Is something wrong, Olivia? Problems at home?"
She didn't even know what she was asking there. Olivia didn't talk about home at school. She didn't talk about much of anything at school, actually. She just... didn't want to cause trouble, or draw attention to herself, or... or much of anything, really.
If you wanted to stay unnoticed, you shouldn't have failed a jury, she told herself sharply. Now she had to come up with a plausible lie.
"No," she said, probably a little too late to really be believable. "Everything's fine."
Professor Riedel made a skeptical noise. God, she couldn't even lie well. "Please understand that I'm not trying to pry. I only want to help you."
"I don't think I can be helped," said Olivia.
It was not what she had meant to say. She had meant to say that there was nothing that needed helping. And there wasn't. It wasn't like there was anything particularly wrong with her life at the moment, or no more so than usual. Her mother hadn't called, her grades were good-- or they had been, until this jury. She was eating well, studying, getting exercise and sun, doing all the things that were right. All the things you should be doing.
And yet she found herself sleeping longer and longer, found it harder and harder to get out of bed. She'd been skipping classes because she was just too tired, or too sad. She'd been missing assignments-- she still cringed at the thought of the journal she'd torn up and thrown away. And now this. Now this.
Professor Riedel reared back, looking at Olivia, horror naked on her face for the split second before she managed to hide it. Something inside Olivia broke, then.
"I'm sorry, Professor," she said, numbly. "I should really be getting back to my dorm." And then she could climb into bed and pull the covers over her head and go to sleep, and maybe this time somebody up there would hear her and she'd just never wake up.
And then Professor Riedel said something astonishing.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "Olivia, please don't take this the wrong way, but have you ever been to the counseling center?"
She blinked at the professor; for a moment she didn't even understand that. "Um. No. We have a counseling center?"
That got a look that might have been amused if it hadn't been sad. "Yes, we do. I'd like you to go."
"Um," Olivia said, again. "I don't... why?"
Professor Riedel gave her a very long look, then said, "Please just go, Olivia. I think that they can help. And I'll see if we can't reschedule this jury."
Which was more mercy than she was expecting-- that was to say, any. She took the card that Professor Riedel gave her and went back to her dorm in a sort of stunned daze to call the office.
When she practiced that night, the notes were starting to come out clear.
Title: All For The Best
Main Story: In The Heart.
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 13 (victim), pocky, rainbow sprinkles, fresh pineapple (Mmmm whatcha say/Mmmm that it's all for the best?/of course it is/Mmmm whatcha say?/Mmmm that it's just what we need/you decided this).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Madison practices.
Madison put on her sorrowful face, widened her eyes, and said to the mirror, "I think we should just be friends, you know? It isn't working out."
No, that was wrong.
"Fuck you," she spat at the mirror, snarling. "I never fucking want to see you again."
Closer, but she wasn't angry.
She tried sorrow again. "I don't feel like you love me." Oh, that was good. Put the blame where it belonged. "She makes me so uncomfortable. Like she's more important to you than me." Yes. That was it.
"It's all her fault," she told herself, and believed it.
Main Story: In The Heart. Now with shiny new introduction!
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 11 (kneel), coffee 20 (flute), Malt (summer challenge 119: No, it doesn't have to stop), fresh blueberries (The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out.).
Word Count: 738
Rating: PG
Summary: Olivia gets a wakeup call.
Notes: At the time this is set, Olivia has undiagnosed clinical depression.
She failed a jury before she realized that something was wrong.
Olivia sat on a bench outside the music building, holding her flute case in hands so cold they were numb, and couldn't believe that it had just happened. Sure, she'd played badly, but that badly? Surely not so badly as to fail...
She winced, remembering. No, it had been that bad. It was always that bad, these days. Her hands shook on the keys of her flute or the piano; she hit wrong notes and blew screeching sounds that couldn’t, even charitably, be caused music.
And it had taken her until today to notice, or care.
"Olivia?"
Professor Riedel. Her advisor. She flinched. "Yes, ma'am."
The professor sat down beside her. "You want to tell me what just happened in there?" she asked, voice uncharacteristically gentle.
"I failed," Olivia said, simply.
"I had noticed as much," Professor Riedel said, a hint of her usual waspish tones creeping into her voice. She gentled it again after a few words. "Olivia, I know I've only known you for a few months, but I think I know you well enough to know that this is very unlike you."
Olivia clenched her hands on her flute and watched her knuckles turn white. "I just don't understand," she whispered, miserable. "I practiced, Professor. I really did."
"I know you did," came the rather surprising response. "That's why I'm so surprised. Is something wrong, Olivia? Problems at home?"
She didn't even know what she was asking there. Olivia didn't talk about home at school. She didn't talk about much of anything at school, actually. She just... didn't want to cause trouble, or draw attention to herself, or... or much of anything, really.
If you wanted to stay unnoticed, you shouldn't have failed a jury, she told herself sharply. Now she had to come up with a plausible lie.
"No," she said, probably a little too late to really be believable. "Everything's fine."
Professor Riedel made a skeptical noise. God, she couldn't even lie well. "Please understand that I'm not trying to pry. I only want to help you."
"I don't think I can be helped," said Olivia.
It was not what she had meant to say. She had meant to say that there was nothing that needed helping. And there wasn't. It wasn't like there was anything particularly wrong with her life at the moment, or no more so than usual. Her mother hadn't called, her grades were good-- or they had been, until this jury. She was eating well, studying, getting exercise and sun, doing all the things that were right. All the things you should be doing.
And yet she found herself sleeping longer and longer, found it harder and harder to get out of bed. She'd been skipping classes because she was just too tired, or too sad. She'd been missing assignments-- she still cringed at the thought of the journal she'd torn up and thrown away. And now this. Now this.
Professor Riedel reared back, looking at Olivia, horror naked on her face for the split second before she managed to hide it. Something inside Olivia broke, then.
"I'm sorry, Professor," she said, numbly. "I should really be getting back to my dorm." And then she could climb into bed and pull the covers over her head and go to sleep, and maybe this time somebody up there would hear her and she'd just never wake up.
And then Professor Riedel said something astonishing.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "Olivia, please don't take this the wrong way, but have you ever been to the counseling center?"
She blinked at the professor; for a moment she didn't even understand that. "Um. No. We have a counseling center?"
That got a look that might have been amused if it hadn't been sad. "Yes, we do. I'd like you to go."
"Um," Olivia said, again. "I don't... why?"
Professor Riedel gave her a very long look, then said, "Please just go, Olivia. I think that they can help. And I'll see if we can't reschedule this jury."
Which was more mercy than she was expecting-- that was to say, any. She took the card that Professor Riedel gave her and went back to her dorm in a sort of stunned daze to call the office.
When she practiced that night, the notes were starting to come out clear.
Title: All For The Best
Main Story: In The Heart.
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 13 (victim), pocky, rainbow sprinkles, fresh pineapple (Mmmm whatcha say/Mmmm that it's all for the best?/of course it is/Mmmm whatcha say?/Mmmm that it's just what we need/you decided this).
Word Count: 100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Madison practices.
Madison put on her sorrowful face, widened her eyes, and said to the mirror, "I think we should just be friends, you know? It isn't working out."
No, that was wrong.
"Fuck you," she spat at the mirror, snarling. "I never fucking want to see you again."
Closer, but she wasn't angry.
She tried sorrow again. "I don't feel like you love me." Oh, that was good. Put the blame where it belonged. "She makes me so uncomfortable. Like she's more important to you than me." Yes. That was it.
"It's all her fault," she told herself, and believed it.