Post by charlotte on Mar 16, 2007 3:12:29 GMT 1
Charlotte walked through the door of the apartment, closing it softly behind her. It had been a day since the riot, and as such, she had found herself increasingly cold and unresponsive; a regression back into her deepest lows, far removed for her slow turn back into a more outgoing person since her arrival at Hircine, exactly two weeks ago.
She closed the door behind her, sliding her binder and sizeable math textbook upon the table, then turned up to see her mother, highly uncharacteristically, standing in the miniscule hallway that served to join the bathroom and two bedrooms to the kitchen and sitting room. Another uncharacteristic sight, Charlotte noticed, was that her mother was not hung over.
“I head about what happened yesterday,” her mother spoke slowly in a grave tone. “I know a few people who know some other people, and they told me about the riot. The riot, they say, you participated in.”
Charlotte felt her eyes narrowing into a glare. The bruise on her cheek was still very visible and throbbing terribly, not to mention another particularly large on upon her leg and yet another on her back. After the riot, she had closed herself off from most anybody and she wanted to talk least of all to her mother, who had been little more than a drunken liar for the past two years, pretending to be sick when she was really hung over. Even worse than talking to her mother, however, was talking to her mother about the riot.
She gave an appraising glare towards her mother, not answering, and moved towards the fridge, slipping off her shoes easily before she ventured further into the apartment. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her mother raise an eyebrow and cross her arms over her chest, and very Charlotte-thing-to-do when questioning something.
“Charlotte!” her mother protested, annoyance rising in her voice, and Charlotte turned, shutting the fridge door with a loud SLAM! and moving back towards that table where she scooped up her books.
“I was going to my locker, and the riot erupted in front of me, and I had nowhere to go.” Charlotte sighed bitterly, not wanting to have to enter such a conversation. She brushed her bangs away from her eye with her free hand, adjusting her glasses and wincing at the dull ache she felt in her bruise at the motion. She shifted her hip, putting her weight on one leg to accommodate the added mass from her binder and text book.
“That’s not the only thing I heard,” her mother countered coolly. “You blew up a fire-extinguisher, injured nearly thirty students, and then defied a student monitor by trying to pull off another trick. Which is how you must have ended up with these bruises.” Her mother motioned to her face with a nod of her head and Charlotte suddenly began to feel exposed, uncomfortable, and upset.
But something had stuck: Student monitor.
How had her mother known about student monitors – aka the pillars – when she only taught elementary school? Her mother seemed to catch onto this, noting Charlotte’s growing expression, and answered once more in a calm, know-it-all manner.
“I used to be a junior member of the board that first pushed for the new reforms. I had only been a member of the party for a week when the reform went through, but I believed in what we were doing. I know all about the student hierarchy, monitors, and the school captain’s role.”
Her mother cleared her throat, taking a step forward, and went on.
“This isn’t like you Charlotte; blowing things up, disobeying peacekeepers, participating in riots … the daughter I know is actually a quiet girl, who stays out of trouble, and listens to authority.”
Charlotte slid her books back upon the table, twisting her red, blue, yellow, and green striped scarf around as she did so. Her mother’s tone, stance, and methods were hauntingly familiar, especially the condescending, almost patronizing tone she spoke in.
“I’ve never been a riot before, and I haven’t managed to get into a fight since middle school. I wasn’t thinking, and I lost my sense of reason.” Charlotte countered icily. “Are we done here?” Her mother took another step forward, uncrossing her arms.
“I don’t see that as an excuse.” Her mother replied sternly, steadfast.
“Well maybe you should feel lucky that I actually make an effort to respect peace and authority, and I’m not a delinquent like some!” She shot back angrily, perhaps moreso than she had intended. The truth was, she actually did prefer peace and quiet rather than loud fights and louder people dominating the scene. The problem was, Hircine High seemed to be full of loud fights and loud people.
“I know you prefer solitude and silence,” Her mother said, again changing her tone, this time to a softer, more comforting one as she took a step forward. Charlotte took an involuntary step back. “And you’re probably right about loosing control. But you are very lucky that little stunt, both the one that succeeded and the one you attempted, didn’t earn you the right to be made an example of by the Monitors.
“I know how the system works Charlotte. One offence is sometimes all it takes, and you committed two: Attempting to cause chaos when an authority figure ordered you to stop, and the act of disobeying that authority directly.”
Charlotte felt her glare disappear, replaced by a mix of wonder and a twinge of apprehension at what her mother was telling her. Normally, the woman was so inobservant and barely took notice of Charlotte’s existence, and now, here she was, with so much knowledge and a know-it-all smirk to boot. It was simultaneously the most motherly thing she had ever heard, and the furthest removed from motherly.
It made her bruised cheek throb all the more.
“So are you going to punish me then?” Charlotte nearly swore bitterly. “You, the mother who ignored her daughter and always lied about the truth: that you were drunk or hung over, not sick; that you and dad –”
“Your father and I argued so much because he believed that these reforms were a bad idea.” Her mother interrupted, still coolly and totally in control. “He wanted to keep you away from it, while I thought moving to a bigger school would be helpful for you.”
Charlotte stunned, and nearly dropped her books, her arms feeling limp, her legs like lead, her entire head throbbing. It wasn’t the information her mother had delivered, but the way she had delivered it. So calm and in control, so hard and icy, it reminded her –
(It reminds me of me)
“…You haven’t answered my question …” she stated slowly, her words feeling heavy.
“No Charlotte, I’m not going to punish you. I can see from your attitude and your hostility-complex that I’m not going to get through to you on any level. I thought that you and I might be able to talk about this easily, you being as smart as you are. But I suppose intelligence and wisdom are two different things.”
Charlotte said nothing, merely stared ahead at her mother, who had somehow begun morphing into Kurtz before her eyes.
“Even though I now work an elementary school, I have quite a few friends at the district office. So this is what you’re going to do.
“You’re going to go to the principal’s office sometime before this week ends, and you’re going to ask him how you can help out, or to admonish you for disobeying a monitor and destroying school property. If you don’t then I can pull some strings at district office and have your principal admonish you regardless.
“The choice is yours Charlotte, and though I didn’t want this to happen, I think it’s the best decision for you. Now you can go and do your homework.”
Charlotte blinked incomprehensibly as her mother delivered an ultimatum. Of course, there were always things she could do, such as threaten to call her mother’s AA sponsor, and have him talk to District Office, but of course, that would leave her mother without a job, to her own misfortune. She inhaled slowly, drawing the breath with a quivering stroke, and straightened her back, walking straight past her mother towards her room.
“I don’t think you used to be any different than I am.” Charlotte said stiffly, pausing before the door, her hand on the knob.
“And that’s why I’m doing what I have to do now.” Her mother replied stoically.
Charlotte gritted her teeth, partly in anger, partly in defeat, and partly in self-loathing. Then she twisted the knob, opened her door, and entered her room, closing it behind her, sealing herself away from the world for at least another evening.
(OOC: Just setting up some character development for later plot)
She closed the door behind her, sliding her binder and sizeable math textbook upon the table, then turned up to see her mother, highly uncharacteristically, standing in the miniscule hallway that served to join the bathroom and two bedrooms to the kitchen and sitting room. Another uncharacteristic sight, Charlotte noticed, was that her mother was not hung over.
“I head about what happened yesterday,” her mother spoke slowly in a grave tone. “I know a few people who know some other people, and they told me about the riot. The riot, they say, you participated in.”
Charlotte felt her eyes narrowing into a glare. The bruise on her cheek was still very visible and throbbing terribly, not to mention another particularly large on upon her leg and yet another on her back. After the riot, she had closed herself off from most anybody and she wanted to talk least of all to her mother, who had been little more than a drunken liar for the past two years, pretending to be sick when she was really hung over. Even worse than talking to her mother, however, was talking to her mother about the riot.
She gave an appraising glare towards her mother, not answering, and moved towards the fridge, slipping off her shoes easily before she ventured further into the apartment. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her mother raise an eyebrow and cross her arms over her chest, and very Charlotte-thing-to-do when questioning something.
“Charlotte!” her mother protested, annoyance rising in her voice, and Charlotte turned, shutting the fridge door with a loud SLAM! and moving back towards that table where she scooped up her books.
“I was going to my locker, and the riot erupted in front of me, and I had nowhere to go.” Charlotte sighed bitterly, not wanting to have to enter such a conversation. She brushed her bangs away from her eye with her free hand, adjusting her glasses and wincing at the dull ache she felt in her bruise at the motion. She shifted her hip, putting her weight on one leg to accommodate the added mass from her binder and text book.
“That’s not the only thing I heard,” her mother countered coolly. “You blew up a fire-extinguisher, injured nearly thirty students, and then defied a student monitor by trying to pull off another trick. Which is how you must have ended up with these bruises.” Her mother motioned to her face with a nod of her head and Charlotte suddenly began to feel exposed, uncomfortable, and upset.
But something had stuck: Student monitor.
How had her mother known about student monitors – aka the pillars – when she only taught elementary school? Her mother seemed to catch onto this, noting Charlotte’s growing expression, and answered once more in a calm, know-it-all manner.
“I used to be a junior member of the board that first pushed for the new reforms. I had only been a member of the party for a week when the reform went through, but I believed in what we were doing. I know all about the student hierarchy, monitors, and the school captain’s role.”
Her mother cleared her throat, taking a step forward, and went on.
“This isn’t like you Charlotte; blowing things up, disobeying peacekeepers, participating in riots … the daughter I know is actually a quiet girl, who stays out of trouble, and listens to authority.”
Charlotte slid her books back upon the table, twisting her red, blue, yellow, and green striped scarf around as she did so. Her mother’s tone, stance, and methods were hauntingly familiar, especially the condescending, almost patronizing tone she spoke in.
“I’ve never been a riot before, and I haven’t managed to get into a fight since middle school. I wasn’t thinking, and I lost my sense of reason.” Charlotte countered icily. “Are we done here?” Her mother took another step forward, uncrossing her arms.
“I don’t see that as an excuse.” Her mother replied sternly, steadfast.
“Well maybe you should feel lucky that I actually make an effort to respect peace and authority, and I’m not a delinquent like some!” She shot back angrily, perhaps moreso than she had intended. The truth was, she actually did prefer peace and quiet rather than loud fights and louder people dominating the scene. The problem was, Hircine High seemed to be full of loud fights and loud people.
“I know you prefer solitude and silence,” Her mother said, again changing her tone, this time to a softer, more comforting one as she took a step forward. Charlotte took an involuntary step back. “And you’re probably right about loosing control. But you are very lucky that little stunt, both the one that succeeded and the one you attempted, didn’t earn you the right to be made an example of by the Monitors.
“I know how the system works Charlotte. One offence is sometimes all it takes, and you committed two: Attempting to cause chaos when an authority figure ordered you to stop, and the act of disobeying that authority directly.”
Charlotte felt her glare disappear, replaced by a mix of wonder and a twinge of apprehension at what her mother was telling her. Normally, the woman was so inobservant and barely took notice of Charlotte’s existence, and now, here she was, with so much knowledge and a know-it-all smirk to boot. It was simultaneously the most motherly thing she had ever heard, and the furthest removed from motherly.
It made her bruised cheek throb all the more.
“So are you going to punish me then?” Charlotte nearly swore bitterly. “You, the mother who ignored her daughter and always lied about the truth: that you were drunk or hung over, not sick; that you and dad –”
“Your father and I argued so much because he believed that these reforms were a bad idea.” Her mother interrupted, still coolly and totally in control. “He wanted to keep you away from it, while I thought moving to a bigger school would be helpful for you.”
Charlotte stunned, and nearly dropped her books, her arms feeling limp, her legs like lead, her entire head throbbing. It wasn’t the information her mother had delivered, but the way she had delivered it. So calm and in control, so hard and icy, it reminded her –
(It reminds me of me)
“…You haven’t answered my question …” she stated slowly, her words feeling heavy.
“No Charlotte, I’m not going to punish you. I can see from your attitude and your hostility-complex that I’m not going to get through to you on any level. I thought that you and I might be able to talk about this easily, you being as smart as you are. But I suppose intelligence and wisdom are two different things.”
Charlotte said nothing, merely stared ahead at her mother, who had somehow begun morphing into Kurtz before her eyes.
“Even though I now work an elementary school, I have quite a few friends at the district office. So this is what you’re going to do.
“You’re going to go to the principal’s office sometime before this week ends, and you’re going to ask him how you can help out, or to admonish you for disobeying a monitor and destroying school property. If you don’t then I can pull some strings at district office and have your principal admonish you regardless.
“The choice is yours Charlotte, and though I didn’t want this to happen, I think it’s the best decision for you. Now you can go and do your homework.”
Charlotte blinked incomprehensibly as her mother delivered an ultimatum. Of course, there were always things she could do, such as threaten to call her mother’s AA sponsor, and have him talk to District Office, but of course, that would leave her mother without a job, to her own misfortune. She inhaled slowly, drawing the breath with a quivering stroke, and straightened her back, walking straight past her mother towards her room.
“I don’t think you used to be any different than I am.” Charlotte said stiffly, pausing before the door, her hand on the knob.
“And that’s why I’m doing what I have to do now.” Her mother replied stoically.
Charlotte gritted her teeth, partly in anger, partly in defeat, and partly in self-loathing. Then she twisted the knob, opened her door, and entered her room, closing it behind her, sealing herself away from the world for at least another evening.
(OOC: Just setting up some character development for later plot)