Memories are forever... (sequel to Anna's Diary) - *THE END! (9.april)*
bobtheadventure:
I just noticed a possible continuity error-
Angela sung "one of her own songs" at her mother's funeral. If she wrote this song just for the funeral, wouldn't that have been after she died.
Of course, I'm just being picky. "Since her mother died" is kind of vague, so it could mean slightly after her death.
KatrinaandTiff:
bobtheadventure, want to join my fan club?
Theraven:
Quote from: bobtheadventure;1139506
I just noticed a possible continuity error-
Angela sung "one of her own songs" at her mother's funeral. If she wrote this song just for the funeral, wouldn't that have been after she died.
Of course, I'm just being picky. "Since her mother died" is kind of vagueade, so it could mean slightly after her death.
well, she loved writing songs, so she had a bunch of songs already. she didn't write it after her mother died, she only sung it ;)
Theraven:
Well, chapter two is finally ready, and I hope you’ll enjoy it!
(and I’m still trying to get the rest done by the end of the week – but my game keeps crashing every time I’m buying clothes for them… so I hope I’ll find the problem soon.)
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Chapter 2: reflection
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One long moment, she was convinced her mother was back. The word “Mom” hung on her lips, ready to come out. But when she got aware of the shocked expression in the face she was seeing, the reality came back to her in a flash.
It was not her mother come back to life.
It was not her mother staring at her in the mirror.
Not her mother at all.
It was herself.
Angela.
It was as like the striking likeness Angela had to her mother was mocking her. The same red, curly hair. The same clear, green eyes. Almost the same features. She was sure that when she grew up, she would be like a mirror image of her mother. Why did she always get reminded of her mother when she saw herself in the mirror? Every. Single. Time.
She had started to hate mirrors. Sometimes she felt like she was walking around in the mirror hall at a carnival.
In everything she did, she was always reminded of her mother. Whether it was a TV-programme, her homework, when she tried to sleep, and when she saw her own reflection. Even Alice reminded her about her mother, though she also had some of their father in her features.
Sometimes she just wanted to hit something. Break something. Just to get her frustration out. Stop being sad all the time. Stop thinking about her mother all the time. Go back to a normal life. Hah! As if her life could ever become normal again!
*CRASH*
Angela started, and her consciousness jerked back to the present.
Her hand hurt a lot. That was the first she noticed.
She looked down. Her hand was all bloodied. Why? And it also hurt a lot.
She looked up again, and saw the mirror was gone.
Pieces of glass lay on the floor in front of her feet and in the sink. She stepped back, trying not to put her feet in the glass.
“Angela, is everything all right in there?” her dad yelled, and she could hear the worried tone in his voice.
“Yes. Everything all right.”
As if! Things would never be all right. Not now, not ever!
She tried to pick up the pieces of glass, but they were too sharp.
Theraven:
She realised that she had to tell her father. She didn’t know how to fix it. She washed her hand, and wrapped it in a towel. Then she opened the door.
“Finally!” her father said, before he saw her hand. And then, the pieces of glass on the floor.
“What happened?”
“The… the mirror broke.”
“How on earth did that happen?”
“It… it fell down… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll clean up here so no one steps in it. I’ll fix it later.”
He found a mop, and cleaned the floor, while she waited.
When he finished, he took the first-aid box, and guided her into the living room.
“You’ve got to be more careful, Angela. Don’t pick up pieces of glass with bare hands.”
“I know,” was all she said. Tears threatened to come out, and the lump in her throat only grew and grew.
Ian cleaned the wound and bandaged her hand. “There. Does it hurt?”
“Not much.” Not as bad as the pain inside her, anyway.
He sat down beside her, and put his arm around her shoulder.
“Angela…”
She swallowed. “Yes?”
“If you have troubles, you know you can come to me with them. It’s… I…I’m trying to be a good father for you. For all of you. I know it hurts. I’ve loved your mother since the first time I saw her. I know that things never will be the same. We just have to manage.”
She could see tears in his eyes. This had to be just as hard for him as for her.
“I know, Dad. It’s just… I miss her so much.” Her tears were suddenly unstoppable.
“I miss her, too. More than you could ever know.” Ian put his arms around her, and they sat there for a long time, just comforting each other, and crying.
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