Tanith's Escapades- Reality Ninjas.

The dog-eared post-it note remained stubbornly adhered to Tomas's desk until Saturday, when he walked in to find it had fluttered to the floor, settling on a small stack of x-box games. It was faded now, but the messy scrawl upon it remained. He bent, curly orange hair falling over his crooked frown, to pick it up, unsure exactly what to do with it, and read the words again:

Tom,

The reality ninjas visited,
I'm sorry.
You don't have to reply,

Tan.

Halfway through the motion of scooping up the note, Tomas froze. He stood very still for a moment, then in a burst of anger swung a kick that sent the pile scattering in all directions across the room.
Tomas straightened slowly and took a breath, shaking the hair from his eyes.
Things were not going well.

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Copyright Leah Petts 2010

Tanith's Escapades- some good reasons why keyboards can't scream.

Once again, Tanith was in one of her moods, one could almost argue Tanith was always in one of her moods- not to her face, of course, but there you go;
Erin now had more confidence than a Diva, thanks to Tom's quick thinking and a screaming match with Shannon that effectivley slammed the gate shut on Tanith's any hope of sitting on the fence- not that there'd been any doubt in her mind over sides anyway.
..This is how things were with Tanith, there were never really any shades of grey.

As for right now,
She rubbed her tired eyes and jabbed at the keyes indifferently, the LCD screen flickered and an instant message popped up:
"Hey Tan, its Tom- havent talked to you in a while: ev'rything ok?"
Tanith scowled at the screen and flicked off the computer without bothering to shut it down. In truth, she wasn't sure why she still wasn't talking to Tomas -after all, he'd saved the day with the whole Erin thing... she just didn't have the guts to admit she was wrong. Apologies never really came easy, especially after you'd ruined something like that with blind pig-headedness.

She sat there for a while, with her cheek against the cold, grainy wood of the desk; dirty fingernails drumming mindlessly, irritatedly.
With a determined growl, Tanith suddnely leaned over to kick the bone-box into life. mechanism whirred and the monitor stirred drowsily.
With decided, almost angry strokes, Tanith wrote:
"Out of Eostrogen, next mood swing: T-minus ten minutes...."
She leaned back in the chair and waited, then
"TANITH? -heck, i didnt expect a reply; what's up?"
Her eyebrows raised in confusion and she tapped out another line, erased it all, and tried again:
"I dunno Tom, I guess I just dont know how to talk to you anymore... are we still ok?"
There was a longer pause this time, Tanith was four seconds from turning off the screen in disgust when Toms reply rippled over the monitor:
"No, not really, this is kind of hard Tan, but I dont think we'll ever be what we were... you saw to that..."
Teeth clenched, she beat her answer into the kerboard with rising desperation,
"I thought you might say that."

There was no reply, and Tanith wanted to yell: "So why'd you bother in the first place, huh?!" but of course, that would be almost as futile as her black moods.
Head in her hands, elbows on the desk, she sang to herself quietly, Oh, this is how it goooes baby, I'll get angry at your words and I'll head hoooooooome.... she trailed off at the part where the girl goes back home and says sorry.
She stared out the window, and like the proud member of Gen. Y she was, relished the misery as it slid smoothly through her veins, all whispering and irridescent.
Sometimes, the truth you get is never the truth you want, even if you did see it coming.

Biting into the sour flesh of her bottom lip; Tanith slowly, grimly crushed her own, hissing, spitting ego with a growing sense of determination and disgust.
Tommorrow. She would apologise tomorrow.

She did not want him back, -it would not have been in her nature to do so-, but she did want his forgiveness. She was not likely to get it, but for once just knowing why she did things was a good enough reason, after all, it was long overdue.

Oh, this is how it goooes babe, 'cos I'll be back before you knooow, before you know....

-
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Tanith's Escapades- Vegitarian food, eh, Erin?

Tanith ate her lunch with Erin today.

It was good, Tanith decided as she bit into her sandwich, (ham & tomato if you were wondering)
when you had other friends to support you when you're fighting with your best friend.

Though since their little screaming match last week (and that saturday detention afterwards when they had been forced to srub graffitied tables together) Tanith & Shannon hardly counted each other as friends anymore.

From Tanith's point of veiw it wasn't hard to see why they'd had such a falling out in the first place. Shannon was the sort of person that constantly needed a gaggle of friends with her to ensure her existance.
Tanith didn't, and though she liked having friends, was perfectly happy to keep her own company once in a while.

And Shannon, who just hadn't understood that Tanith needed her own time once in a while; proceeded to spend every spare moment she had with Tanith, oblivious to Tanith's subtle hints that perhaps Shannon could give her the time on her own that she needed just as much as Shannon needed constant social interaction.

Eventually, Tanith gave up being subtle.
Shannon had not taken it well at all, perceiving Tanith's plea for a little 'down time' as apparent rejection.
And, not understanding what she could have possibly done wrong, came to the conclusion that Tanith was, to use Shannon's phrasing (thought Tanith dryly) a 'heartless bitch'.

She handed the other half of her sandwich to Erin, who had continued to chatter away happily without notice of Tanith's daydream.
Tanith liked Erin, mostly because the were so similar; they both liked friends but didn't need them. Though Erin was somewhat more absent-minded than Tanith.

Tuning into Erin's mostly one-sided conversation at last, She found a question floating around her head and snatched it from the air:

"hey Erin," Tanith asked "aren't you a vegetarian?" looking pointedly at Erin's cheeks, bulging with the last of the sandwich.
Erin grinned thickly at her through a mouthful of ham and tomato,
"only if you talk to my mother."


© Leah Petts, 9th March ‘08