Simple Fantasies

Chapter 3- Fate is fake

© mai work yo

Author's note:

Sorry guys, I write when I feel like it. Hope you guys like it and sorry if there are unprofessional errors in my writings, I can't remember a lot of details and I'm not really experienced in writing. I just, like writing. So sorry guys. I forgot how old Rianne and Kurt are. PFT OKAY really really.

Chapter 3

  I'm unsure of which is weirder, the fact that I'm not in class or that I'm in an empty classroom with Kurt Drakley of my childhood. Just us two.

  "Kurt?" I raised an eyebrow as he peeked out the door behind him.

  "HUSHHHHHHHH, they'll hear you," he whispered as I rolled my eyes.

  The bell rang and I was late for Science, my favourite subject. It makes the most common sense and it's straightforward, PROVEN by scientists. PROVEN is the keyword.

  He turned around and grinned wildly. Nearing the end of break, he had pulled me in after I walked pass the classroom like a kidnapper, his left hand clamped around my mouth and his right hand wrapped around my waist, dampening my scream and dragging me in. When I realised it was him- typical.

  Ever since we were in kindergarten, he has always been trying convince me that fairytales are good and imagination is wickedly cool. The time when I questioned him,"Aren't fairytales kinda a little girls thing?" He gaped at me and decided on the spot that I was deprived of childhood and imagination, despite my love for reading fictional books. And also that I was sexist.

We were ten years old then. The fact that I'm alive and still getting A for Literature proves that reading a lot since young has given me a boost. I, however, hate Literature for the fact that it is discovering the 'meanings behind the meanings', and the "figurative, metaphorical" kinda thing.

  "So, Kurt Drakley, what do you want," I asked, leaning against the cupboard, chewing on gum.

  "Miss Rianne Green," he took a bow after locking the classroom door. I raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you know what business I have with you. You know me well enough, no?"

  It is true that we knew each other well. From the day that he debuted as a knight in the kindergarten library, he has been following me around, trying to psyc me with his 'IMAGINATION' logic. I calculated, on an average of four times a week, for a span of a month, he does weird stuff to try to get me into the 'fantasy mood'. Basically, it includes leaving Disney DVDs on my desk during break, passing me fantasy books about warlords that use magic when we pass by along the school corridors. Ridiculous, it's as if he always carries those things around.

  "What, about how my imagination sucks? You've told me that for a gazillion times," I whined.

  He smiled mysteriously. "Nah, I'm asking you out on a trip to the bookstore." I stared at him. I saw the reason why he dragged me in here, probably because of the rumours that's been spreading around school. A lot of 'Kianne' or 'Rurt' shipping has been going on recently and surely, we wouldn't want people to conclude that we're dating just by the fact that we were talking in public.

  "It's FATE," Deen always teases me about Kurt. "Same kindergarten, primary and secondary schools? With the guy who claimed to be your 'knight in shining armour'?" she would push on as I rolled my eyes and sighed.

  My view on fate: crap. It's fake. If it were real, does this mean I was made to have no father? No wild imagination whatsoever? Be confined in this room with the boy who swears he's going to save me from myself? Meaning, I'm fated to be cursed? With a messed up mother who works at the bar, a wrinkly old grandmama who's highly critical and pessimistic, a father who is non-existent?

  "When and purpose?" I questioned, squinting my eyes slightly. "Oh this Saturday, 9am till whatever time you want. Mission: to revise your fairytales and stories." I yawned, not bothering to cover my mouth. "I've got band. Can't." He pouted and I almost fell off the chair that I had shifted to.

  "Don't do that!"

  "What, pouting?" he grinned mischievously.

  "Yes!"

  "Look, it'll be my birthday on Sunday. C'mon, you wouldn't refuse the birthday boy's wishes, would you?" his eyes looked intensely into mine.

  I pressed on for awhile before relenting,"Fine, you win. But only because it's your birthday and we've been friends for 12 years."

  He smiled.

  "I'm going for Science now. Bye," I waved at him and strolled out the door. The thing was that no one had ever stared into my eyes that hard before. Kurt was the first. Maybe it's because no one looks at me the way Kurt does.

###

  Dad sends me presents on my birthday each year. He also sends postcards from the countries he visits, claiming he's on business trips and is missing me. How could he? He's never seen me before. All he knows is that I'm a girl who is an accident that occurred in the backseat of his car.

  However, I adore the gifts he sends. Handmade wooden doll house, once, when I was 8. But of course, I only left it on my table. I didn't play make believe or dollies when I was young. I read and stared out the balcony in my room, appreciating the amazing artistry that danced and swirled across the evening sky, in awe and wonder of the distant galaxies that I could never reach. The doll house was wonderfully crafted and painted, with a matching little family. He sent such an ironic collection.

  I've never seen him either. No photographs, pictures, videos- nothing. It's like he wants to trick me into thinking he cares but he doesn't. It's almost like he's a fake.

  Fathers don't do this, do they?