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Of Heroes And Villains
In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.
Fanart by the talented Ian Samson, creator of City of Reality and artist of The Wotch
Diane is 7 when the doctors tell her she is dying.
She doesn’t really understand what death means yet.
As she gorges herself on the candy bars all the adults are suddenly so eager to give her, she thinks dying probably isn’t so bad.
If only her mother would stop crying.
***
Diane sees beauty everywhere, and savors it.
She sees it in the sky, and the flowers, and in art books she borrows from the library.
Recently, she has begun seeing it in her fellow classmates. She looks at the boys who are on the cusp of becoming young men, and appreciates their fine form; the straight lines and hard angles, the muscles shifting when they play sports, and the pleasant timbre of their deepening voices.
The girls look beautiful, too. Their sweet scent, those delicate curves, their elaborate fashion statements.
Diane watches them all and daydreams, lips curling into a happy smile as her thoughts begin taking a rather naughty direction.
***
“Slut.”
Diane cocks her head at the insult, thinly veiled beneath a fake cough.
Then she goes back to eating her lunch; it’s typical terrible school fare. Diane is quite good at finding things to appreciate, but even she can’t savor this.
The cough comes again, louder, from a different mouth this time.
Their efforts to unsettle her are adorable in their ineptitude. They confuse her with someone who cares for their approval.
She is 14, and could drop dead any day, so when she saw the opportunity to lose her V-tag, she went for it. And then she went after it a couple of more times. A great time was had by all, and Diane does not regret her choices.
Still… her brows crinkle into a slight frown.
The boys she had fun with are getting high-fives. She is getting insults.
It’s a little unfair, really.
***
Diane slams the door to the tiny apartment, crossing the living-room-slash-kitchen. There’s a prepackaged meal on the table and she slides it into the microwave.
She spends the afternoon engrossed in a book, in a faraway land.
Her mother arrives from work late in the night, but Diane doesn’t see her, having fallen asleep on the couch.
When her alarm wakes Diane in the morning for school, her mother has already left for her other job.
***
“Diane, what is this?”
Diane lifts her head and frowns. Her mother stands in the doorway, tired and worn. She’s holding out her recent math test. It’s a D. Plus.
“It’s paper. It’s a thing people write on.”
Her mother scowls at her. “You can do better than this.”
Diane shrugs and goes back to reading. Her mother roughly takes her book away, throwing it against the wall.
“Diane! You must think about your future! You’ll never get into college with grades like these.”
She gives her mother a flat look.
“I’m never going to college, mom. I’ll be dead.”
The woman hisses in a sharp breath.
“No, you won’t be. My brilliant girl, you’ll go to college and do great things.”
Diane closes her eyes. Her mother is 30 and looks 40. Diane knows this is her fault. She took her mother’s future with her birth, and now she works 3 menial jobs to pay for bare necessities and an ever-increasing stack of medical bills.
Diane can’t remember the last time they had a conversation.
“I am dying, mom. Okay? Stop pretending I’m not. Stop working every minute of every day to pay for a college fund I’ll never use. Just… just stop and actually talk to me when it’s not about my grades.”
Her mother is speechless. Then she composes herself, taking a deep breath.
“You are not going to die. You are going to go to college. Now stop slacking off at school.” Maybe she would have said more, but she is running late. She presses a kiss to Diane’s brow, and is gone.
***
The whispers at school are getting annoying.
Diane is never going to get to kiss a girl at this rate. They all avoid her, as if whoredom is a disease they might catch.
She sits on a hill, gazing out at her whole world.
It’s so terribly small. Small and small-minded.
Diane wants to see more than this.
***
It takes Anne Cole three days to notice that her daughter hasn’t come home.
***
The first envelope arrives a few months later. It contains a few dollar bills and a note.
Stop working yourself to death and live your life.
I am.
D.
***
The envelopes arrive once a month, like clockwork.
There are no more notes.
But sometimes she sends a picture.
***
One month, the envelope does not come.
It doesn’t come the month after that, either.
And Anne Cole breaks down into tears, thinking her daughter is dead.
***
Yet after a 3 month break, the next envelope arrives.
The sum of money it holds is staggering.
Of Heroes And Villains
In which a superhero meets his match, masks are uncovered and a mad scientist just tries to get some mad science-ing done without getting distracted by the antics of her magical minion.
Fanart by the talented Ian Samson, creator of City of Reality and artist of The Wotch
Diane is 7 when the doctors tell her she is dying.
She doesn’t really understand what death means yet.
As she gorges herself on the candy bars all the adults are suddenly so eager to give her, she thinks dying probably isn’t so bad.
If only her mother would stop crying.
She sees it in the sky, and the flowers, and in art books she borrows from the library.
Recently, she has begun seeing it in her fellow classmates. She looks at the boys who are on the cusp of becoming young men, and appreciates their fine form; the straight lines and hard angles, the muscles shifting when they play sports, and the pleasant timbre of their deepening voices.
The girls look beautiful, too. Their sweet scent, those delicate curves, their elaborate fashion statements.
Diane watches them all and daydreams, lips curling into a happy smile as her thoughts begin taking a rather naughty direction.
Diane cocks her head at the insult, thinly veiled beneath a fake cough.
Then she goes back to eating her lunch; it’s typical terrible school fare. Diane is quite good at finding things to appreciate, but even she can’t savor this.
The cough comes again, louder, from a different mouth this time.
Their efforts to unsettle her are adorable in their ineptitude. They confuse her with someone who cares for their approval.
She is 14, and could drop dead any day, so when she saw the opportunity to lose her V-tag, she went for it. And then she went after it a couple of more times. A great time was had by all, and Diane does not regret her choices.
Still… her brows crinkle into a slight frown.
The boys she had fun with are getting high-fives. She is getting insults.
It’s a little unfair, really.
She spends the afternoon engrossed in a book, in a faraway land.
Her mother arrives from work late in the night, but Diane doesn’t see her, having fallen asleep on the couch.
When her alarm wakes Diane in the morning for school, her mother has already left for her other job.
Diane lifts her head and frowns. Her mother stands in the doorway, tired and worn. She’s holding out her recent math test. It’s a D. Plus.
“It’s paper. It’s a thing people write on.”
Her mother scowls at her. “You can do better than this.”
Diane shrugs and goes back to reading. Her mother roughly takes her book away, throwing it against the wall.
“Diane! You must think about your future! You’ll never get into college with grades like these.”
She gives her mother a flat look.
“I’m never going to college, mom. I’ll be dead.”
The woman hisses in a sharp breath.
“No, you won’t be. My brilliant girl, you’ll go to college and do great things.”
Diane closes her eyes. Her mother is 30 and looks 40. Diane knows this is her fault. She took her mother’s future with her birth, and now she works 3 menial jobs to pay for bare necessities and an ever-increasing stack of medical bills.
Diane can’t remember the last time they had a conversation.
“I am dying, mom. Okay? Stop pretending I’m not. Stop working every minute of every day to pay for a college fund I’ll never use. Just… just stop and actually talk to me when it’s not about my grades.”
Her mother is speechless. Then she composes herself, taking a deep breath.
“You are not going to die. You are going to go to college. Now stop slacking off at school.” Maybe she would have said more, but she is running late. She presses a kiss to Diane’s brow, and is gone.
The whispers at school are getting annoying.
Diane is never going to get to kiss a girl at this rate. They all avoid her, as if whoredom is a disease they might catch.
She sits on a hill, gazing out at her whole world.
It’s so terribly small. Small and small-minded.
Diane wants to see more than this.
It takes Anne Cole three days to notice that her daughter hasn’t come home.
Stop working yourself to death and live your life.
I am.
D.
The envelopes arrive once a month, like clockwork.
There are no more notes.
But sometimes she sends a picture.
One month, the envelope does not come.
It doesn’t come the month after that, either.
And Anne Cole breaks down into tears, thinking her daughter is dead.
Yet after a 3 month break, the next envelope arrives.
The sum of money it holds is staggering.
Comments
Love comes in many shades......
A mother who works herself to death to care for her daughter, or a daughter who steals to care for the mother she loves.
Short but very sweet - a nice look into Diane's past.
Dallas
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus
Diane is a loving person
For all that she claimed to have never been in love before.
I cried.
Not for the first time while reading your work, and hardly ever for the same reason twice, but not this unexpectedly.
Awww
*hugs*
very moving
Diane looks like she always saw thing a little differently. will there be a reunion?
thanks
Mayyybe
Once I get around to writing it and finding a good point for it within the story.
"live your life"
there's something to be said for that.
*nods*
Indeed there is!
hoi
realy love this story please keep it up
erik je
I fully intend to
And I have material for a month's worth of posts ;)
A snaphot
of Diane's life that explains so much. It's pretty clear she's always looked at life so very differently than everyone else. And yet she's a healer without equal.
I can just see her mom's disbelief and shock at learning Diane is a doctor. (Honorary!) :)
hugs
Grover
I really...
need to get around to writing that reunion scene. And yes, her daughter being an honorary doctor would make Anne Cole faint with joy - though nothing moreso than that Diane is no longer dying.
Diane
I sort of envy Diane's outlook on life. She's Diane, and nobody and no one is going to change that, yet she can care so deeply about others.
-Tas
This is very good
Using few words this story tells us a lot. Very well done.
>>> Kay