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Just Accept It


Artemia

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Bit of explanation before we jump in, I suppose. I'm working on a piece for my Creative Writing class. We weren't really given any guidelines, prompts, or anything but to use what we've learned in class (which for someone like me is really just a bunch of reiteration...). It's meant to be a maximum of 10 pages, minimum 6 or 7, due this coming Friday. I've got an idea I'm working with, it's just a matter of getting the words down now. I thought I'd post pieces of it here as I work on it and get some feedback.

 

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome in my world.

 

So....diving in now to Just Accept It.

 

 

“Catherine, will you come downstairs?”

 

“Just a minute, Mom!”

 

I folded up the letter and put it in my desk. I knew what she wanted to talk about. Once the intended receives their letter, their parents do as well. It was really more to drive the point home than anything. It wasn’t like the parents had any say in the matter anymore.

 

Once we turned seventeen, all bets were off, and my number had come up.

 

Most kids were petrified of getting married in high school, but it didn’t bother me so much. I picked up the picture of my betrothed they had sent with my letter. He wasn’t unattractive, he just wasn’t my usual type. Normally I preferred blonds, but the dark hair he sported seemed to work for him. He would have looked strange as a blond.

 

Carrying the picture with me downstairs, I rolled my eyes upon seeing my mother pacing the front room. She no doubt would have been happier if I was out in the crowds of students at the Capitol protesting the law. She had been one of them before she was betrothed to my father. She’d calmed down, but in the past year she’d become a bit manic about the whole issue.

 

The law had been in place since before my grandparents married, and it wasn’t something that a few protesters were going to change any time soon.

 

Mom looked up, startled to see me at the foot of the stairs. Seeing the picture in my hands, she snatched it away.

 

“This is him?”

 

I nodded. “Vincent. Vincent Reynolds. He seems nice.” Had to admit, Catherine Reynolds didn’t sound too terrible.

 

“Seems nice?” my mother said, waving the picture, “You’ve never met him!”

 

“So? Based upon his profile, we seem to be highly compatible. It’s not like you knew anymore about Dad before you met him.”

 

“That’s not the point. You don’t even love him!”

 

“Did you love Dad when you got your letter?” I said, snatching Vincent’s picture back. She paused, sighing.

 

“We’re not having that discussion, Catherine.”

 

“My point exactly. You were in exactly the same position I am, except you fought it. You didn’t even give him a chance, didn’t even try to make it work. You did your five years, had your one required child, and he left. I don’t blame him.”

 

“I said we’re not having this discussion, Catherine Marie.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” I said, stepping back up the stairs. “Just because your marriage was a failure doesn’t mean mine will be. I’m at least going to try to make the best of it.” I practically ran back to my room, slamming the door behind me. Looking down at the smiling young man in the picture, I knew I had to at least try.

 

 

Like I said, comments, feedback and concrit are always welcome.

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"MEMORYYYYYY! ALLLLLL ALOOONE IN THE MOOOOOONLIIIIIGHT!"
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Interesting concept. I like the concept of government arranged marriages and whatnot within a story (which is why I included it in my own novel). That this seems to be a modern setting and we don't know what country or the exact situation around it makes this all the more interesting.

 

“Seems nice?” my mother said, waving the picture, “You’ve never met him!”

Two sentences there. You need a period after the word "picture."

 

“That’s not the point. You don’t even love him!”

I would probably have merged these into one sentence.

 

“Did you love Dad when you got your letter?” I said, snatching Vincent’s picture back. She paused, sighing.

 

“We’re not having that discussion, Catherine.”

The sentence "She paused, sighing." should probably be moved to right before she responds in the next paragraph.

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“That’s not the point. You don’t even love him!”

I would probably have merged these into one sentence.

 

I disagree.

 

“Did you love Dad when you got your letter?” I said, snatching Vincent’s picture back. She paused, sighing.

 

“We’re not having that discussion, Catherine.”

The sentence "She paused, sighing." should probably be moved to right before she responds in the next paragraph.

 

I do agree.

 

Great start!! This has tons of potential! I love the set up, and I love Catherine's attitude. She's not whiny or moping about the way things are, but is determined to make the best of it. I admire that.

 

I'm very interested in seeing where you go with this.

 

And I lol'ed at the fact that they are Catherine and Vincent...*gets flashbacks to the 80's Beauty and the Beast TV show*

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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And now...the second part of my short story. Enjoy.

 

Sanctity of Marriage Act

Article 2, Section 3: Right to Appeal Betrothal

 

As previously stated, within one week of receiving a notice of betrothal, those named must meet to discuss terms of compatibility. Matches are made based upon compatibility as determined by government testing, however, the betrothed have the right to appeal the government’s decision in extreme cases on incompatibility. Requests for appeals must be made in person, with both parties present. Only in extreme cases will appeals be granted. In the event an appeal is granted, the two parties will be betrothed to new partners.

 

Vincent had been the one to call me. He had started out all proper and polite, but once we moved on to small talk we both became aware of just how awkward it all was. Rather than tormenting ourselves further, we set up a date. Dinner and movie seemed like a really old cliche, but I think we needed a cliche. We knew absolutely nothing about each other other than we were getting married.

 

Which, if all went well, we would. He had made it clear over the phone that he wanted to try to make this work, possibly as much as I did. It was a comforting thought.

 

Friday night came, and like a gentleman, Vincent showed up on my doorstep at precisely seven o’clock. My mother tried to usher him in, saying she wanted to meet her future son-in-law, but I told her as calmly as I could to back off. She’d get to meet him officially later, just like I would have to meet his parents. Right now though, we needed to get to know each other.

 

As my mother stalked off, he mouthed a thank you at me and mocked wiping his brow. In the car, we talked about our parents. His had gotten lucky, it seemed. Max and Genevieve had been high school sweethearts, and when neither of them had received a notice of betrothal by Genevieve’s eighteenth birthday, they had eloped. I told him my parents’ story, not nearly as happily ever after in contrast. We pulled into the parking lot at the cinema and he stopped me before I opened the door.

 

“Catherine, are you okay with this? I know we don’t have many options, and I want to make an honest shot at this, but I’d like you to be happy as well. You deserve that.”

 

“No, no, no...this...this is what I want. I want us to make the best of this. I want to make this work.”

 

He took hold of my hand and gently kissed it. He ran around the car and opened my door for me, and in almost a comical bow extended his arm to me. I couldn’t help smiling as my fiance led me into the cinema.

 

The film we caught did not live up to its reviews, but he guaranteed dinner would be better. When we walked in, it was one of the nicer restaurants in town even, the staff quickly ushered us back toward the kitchen.

 

I must have had a confused look on my face, because he took my coat, looked at me with a bright smile and said simply, “Just trust me.”

 

He led me into the kitchen, and he pulled out a chair for me at an elegantly set table just off to the side. A chef’s table reservation? These were almost impossible to get unless you had a lot of money to spend. I turned to ask him how he had managed it, when I realised he was no longer behind me. I looked around, and he soon reappeared from a door on the far side...wearing a chef’s jacket and carrying a bottle of sparkling cider and two champagne glasses.

 

“Surprise,” he said, placing one of the glasses in front of me. “When I told my boss about my impending engagement, he was more than happy to let me have this table tonight. I’ll let you enjoy the cider while I get our appetizers going. These other goons will be cooking our dinners, but I wanted to make sure you got to try my special.”

 

The food was spectacular, and he promised to cook for me again. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to it. Conversation boiled down to an intense game of twenty questions, but I soon discovered he had a mind like I did. He wasn’t afraid to ask the private questions, but he also understood if I wasn’t ready to answer them just yet.

 

I was upset the night had to end, but was content knowing that my future would be full of nights just like it. He kissed my hand again on the doorstep when he dropped me off, and told me he’d call me after I got out of school tomorrow.

 

My phone buzzed almost as soon as I got up the stairs.

 

“So...how was it? Is he nice, evil, completely off his rocker?”

 

“Jill, calm down. I had a lovely evening,” I told my best friend, giggling at her antics. I could imagine her pacing her room, debating when to call me, and then finally losing all patience and attacking the phone. “He was a complete gentleman, and the tests seem to have done their job. We’re incredibly...compatible.”

“Catherine....” she whined, “I need details!”

 

“He graduated from Harting South High last spring, and he’s getting ready for culinary school. He’s got one sister, April, and he enjoys science fiction and playing piano.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything!”

 

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not the one marrying him then.” I could hear the whine about to escape her lips, and stopped her. “We’ll chat at lunch tomorrow. I need to sleep or I’ll need a caffeine drip to get me through homeroom.”

 

With a sigh, Jillian conceded defeat and hung up.

 

Collapsing into bed I smiled thinking about my evening with Vincent. I didn’t love him, not yet, but I certainly liked him well enough. Well enough to give him a chance.

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"MEMORYYYYYY! ALLLLLL ALOOONE IN THE MOOOOOONLIIIIIGHT!"
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Aw, that's a nice start. I'm glad for them. Vincent does seem to be a nice, sweet guy, who really wants to make this work. And as I said before, I'm really liking Catherine's attitude towards this whole process.

 

I just hope there is not evil lurking underneath!!!

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Oh! I like this. I like the fact that she isn't moping about hating the idea of an arranged marriage and vowing to do anything she can to get out of it. It's not something you see often.

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looking forward to tit
One flash of my perfect chest and he'll be knocked out in a happytime daydream.
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Part 3

 

Sanctity of Marriage Act

Article 3, Section 5: Terms of Fulfilling Contract - Timeline

 

After the two parties involved have affirmed their willingness to act in accordance with the betrothal, the marriage contract must be signed and notarized within a time period of one year. The choice to have a wedding ceremony remains in the hands of the aforementioned parties and their respective families, but a formal ceremony is not required to remain in accordance with the law. At minimum, vows of obligation and signing of the marriage contract  must be overseen by a local judiciary official.

 

I knew it was going to end badly from the moment my mother had proposed the idea. Vincent and his parents had come over to discuss wedding details, and at the last minute my father decided he was coming over as well.

 

At the moment my mother and father were screaming about something to do with my grandmother’s wedding dress. I was only half paying attention. Mrs. Reynolds was  trying to calm them both down, turn the conversation to caterers or something, but it was a useless effort. Vincent sat next to me, arm around my shoulders. Mr. Reynolds kept glancing over at us with a sad smile on his face. It was a pitying look, but he must have meant well. No one in the room could have been comfortable during this screaming match.

 

I don’t know what set me off, but the next thing I knew, I was tense in Vincent’s arms. My whole body seized up, and I couldn’t breathe. My parents kept yelling across the room at each other, and everyone but Vincent was oblivious to  what was happening. My hands started shaking, and he, calmly as could be, covered them with his own.

 

Standing up, Vincent cleared his throat, getting my parents’ attention, still holding my hands tightly. “It seems like things are under control here. Catherine and I actually need to get going. Wesley and Jillian wanted to meet with us this afternoon. Something about stag and hen nights and boundaries.”

 

Without another word, he pulled me up from my seat on the couch, leaving the room behind us eerily quiet. His hands on my shoulders, he ushered me out the door. When we got to his car, I stopped him as he reached for my door.

 

“What was that? We aren’t meeting Wes and Jill for another,” I glanced at my phone, “three hours.”

 

He opened the door, gesturing for me to get in. “You needed to get out of there, and I wasn’t about to let them put you through another minute of that, Catie.”

 

No one had called me Catie since I was younger. Catherine had just become the norm...but Catie sounded right coming from him. At a loss for words, I just nodded slightly and slid into the car. After he climbed in, I took hold of his hand over the console and leaned over and kissed him lightly.

 

“Thanks Vin.”

 

He smiled and squeezed my hand, pulling the car out of the driveway.

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"MEMORYYYYYY! ALLLLLL ALOOONE IN THE MOOOOOONLIIIIIGHT!"
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Awww that was a sweet moment between them in that section.

 

I love how you have the little Marriage Act bits at the top of each new part you post as well.

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looking forward to tit
One flash of my perfect chest and he'll be knocked out in a happytime daydream.
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  • 2 weeks later...

Part IV...only one more piece after this. Well, we'll have reached the end of what I wrote and turned in for my writing class. I have grown to love these characters and may play around with them some more in the future.

 

Part IV:

 

Sanctity of Marriage Act

Article 4, Section 10: Dependency

 

Upon confirming willingness to comply with a government issued betrothal, any parties involved under the age of majority (eighteen years of age) are released from dependency on their parents or legal guardians. Parties still enrolled in secondary education are required to complete their education. Post-secondary education is optional, and at the discretion of the parties concerned.

 

Vincent had really shocked me with this one. I can honestly say I hadn't seen it coming. It was a Friday and we were at his apartment. I had looked at the clock and swore, bustling to gather my things, mumbling about my curfew.

 

“Move in with me.”

 

I didn’t realise I’d been staring at him until I lost grip of my bag and it fell to the floor, knocking me out of my stupor. “What?”

 

“Move in with me.” Before I could repeat my question, he continued.

“We’re going to be married in two months anyway Catie. You’re here every night as it is, and a decent chunk of your stuff is already here.”

 

“My mother won’t...”

 

He sighed, crossing the room to stand right in front of me. “I don’t give a damn what your mother thinks. I’m sorry Catie, I know she’s your mother, but she has been against this from day one, and I am not about to let her dictate our marriage.”

 

I started shaking, and moved to the couch, pulling my feet up, trying to get it under control. “I know Vin...I know. I won’t let her do that to us.”

 

I was still shaking, and Vincent joined me on the couch, pulling me into his arms.

 

“Damn it...Catie I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to...”

 

“No, it’s not your fault...just so much right now.”

 

He held me close, not saying another word. I let my gaze fall around the room, taking it all in. The pictures that dominated the room were the ones we’d taken together over the last eight months. In all of them we looked so happy. I hoped it wasn’t just a fluke, I hoped we could hold onto that happiness into our marriage.

 

After a few more minutes, the shaking stopped. As close as we were, I could feel Vincent relax too when I was finally able to let the tension go.

 

Looking up at him, I knew this was right. I don’t know exactly what drove me to my next question, but I’ll never regret asking it.

 

“Vin...do you love me?”

 

His eyes widened, and his grip around my shoulders tightened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. Something in his eyes brightened, and he smiled. “I do Catie...I really think I do.”

 

I kissed him. Nothing like the chaste kisses we had shared before though. This was right. No more thinking, no more assuming, no more saying it only because I felt I had to in order to make our marriage a success...this was right, and I was happy. I could barely pull myself away from his lips as I spoke. I couldn’t let go of this feeling.

 

“I love you too, Vin. I love you too.”

 

I didn’t make it back to my mother’s house that night. It just didn’t seem that important. I was already home.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Of course, I woke up to five very angry, very disappointed, very motherly voice messages. After breakfast, Vincent and I went and bought some boxes to pack up my stuff. As soon as I opened the door, my mother started raging. Vincent and I simply made our way up the stairs to my room.

 

“Catherine Marie, don’t you walk away from me! Get down here now!”

 

I stopped midway up the stairs and turned to look at her. “No.”

 

“What do you mean no?”

 

“I’m packing my things. I’ll be out within a few hours.”

 

“Young lady, you do not turn eighteen until next month. You’re not going anywhere.”

 

Vincent was livid behind me, and I could tell he wanted to say his piece, but I stopped him. “Actually, legally, I could have left any time after Vincent and I affirmed our betrothal.”

 

Oh, she was furious now. “Yet another reason that stupid law needs to be repealed! You march in here and think you can do whatever the hell you want, just because the government says you’re getting married! I am your mother! You will show me some respect.”

 

“Not until you respect me and my decision to marry Vincent.”

 

“It was not your decision to marry Vincent. If the government hadn’t gotten involved you never would have met him! You don’t love him, Catherine, I don’t see why you’re fighting me on this.”

 

“Just because you didn't love Dad doesn't mean I can't love Vincent! And you know what? I do! I love him!”

 

I hadn’t wanted to explode, but I can’t deny it felt amazing. My mother stood at the foot of the stairs sputtering, and I was starting to shake slightly. I felt Vincent’s hands on my shoulders and relaxed slightly. It was clear though that I could never be fully relaxed or off guard in my mother’s home.

 

“Get out.” She looked shocked at the words coming out of her own mouth. It was as if, she wanted to fight more, but something was stopping her.

 

“Oh, trust me, I am.” I continued up the stairs, and for the next two hours packed everything I owned as quickly as I could. When we left, my mother didn’t say anything to us. She stood in the living room and watched us load the boxes into Vincent’s car, a stony look on her face.

 

I could tell Vincent was trying to keep my mind off it the rest of the day, and I appreciated it, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t see my mother again for quite awhile.

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"MEMORYYYYYY! ALLLLLL ALOOONE IN THE MOOOOOONLIIIIIGHT!"
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I'm not sure what constrictions were on you when writing, but this felt like its contracted a lot from what it could have been to really add some depth and emotion to the piece. It works, but it could easily be expanded on a lot more.

Member of Jnet Addict Club 12/05

Order of the Nocturnal

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I agree that this felt a little rushed, but that doesn't mean I didn't love it as much as I have all the other sections. I hope you do keep playing around with these characters. I think you've got a lot of potential to take them really neat places.

amipaint2.jpg

SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Good to hear I'm not the only one who thought that. I was writing it the night before it was due, and it's certainly not my best. Definitely needs editing. I've actually got a one on one conference with my teacher to discuss the piece tomorrow morning for my portfolio for the class, so I'll probably post the last bit of what I have written sometime tomorrow.

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"MEMORYYYYYY! ALLLLLL ALOOONE IN THE MOOOOOONLIIIIIGHT!"
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Artemia, just throwing my two cents in seeing as I actually have been following, but didn't have a whole lot to say until now.

 

I agree with the general consensus that this last update feels rushed, and I would love (when you have the time) to see you rework it with a little more detail and slower sense of pace. You do have well-defined characters, and it's easy to be genuinely interested in them. Also, the idea is pretty unorthodox: I'd say offhand I've seen a lot more girl-forced-into-marriage-that-she-hates-and-lashes-out-at-everyone-or-runs-away stories than girl-has-option-of-arranged-marriage-that-she-is-mature-enough-to-accept-and-commit-to. This is a refreshing and quite lovely change.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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Hi Artemia, just had a chance to read this and I'm glad I did! I don't think I can add much - I would literally echo all of the comments offered up by everyone else: it's a refreshing story, interesting characters, clean writing, last post felt rushed, etc. There are also a few places I might remove a comma for a better flow, but that's just my opinion. I hope you post the rest for us!

"It's always these little worlds that get you in trouble. Like Tatooine. I'm still living that one down." - Han Solo

Your barnacle has carnivorous salamanders the size of whales.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the faith we profess, for he who promised is faithful." -Heb. 10:23

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I'm going to echo the thoughts of others about this last part being rushed but I still liked it. I wouldn't mind reading it again if you decided to rework it and add in more depth to it.

 

Good work! MOOOOORRRE!

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looking forward to tit
One flash of my perfect chest and he'll be knocked out in a happytime daydream.
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