Sinking Apologies

Author's Note: First off, you're amazing just for clicking this story. I really do appreciate the time you're taking to read this. I'm trying something new, but new in the Labyrinth section is a bit difficult. The movie and the book doesn't really give us much to go by, so then girls' write Mary Sues.


!Warning(s)! Like I said up top, the book and the movie really didn't give us much to go by, so WALLA! you get Mary Sues' and this fic, is indeed a Mary Sue. If you don't like them or get kicks out of flaming, you can do yourself the favor and run for the hills. I'm kind of thankful for Mary Sue's. Another thing, if I don't get a decent amount of reviews, I take the story off, I'll put it some place else. It just proves that this story wasn't good enough to be on here. You review me and I will review you back. I like a review base, it helps me keep up with my story.

We write to apologize.

We ask to look past life as it goes by.

I know you have sacrificed time,

life, love, time to fly.

Please consider all things trite,

forgiveness will be the thing that gets us by.

I know to have something like this

broken is hard to fix.


Prologue:

Cringing as I think this, because I am anything, but typical. Any typical teenager deals with his or her problem by escape. We walk until all feelings are lost. I had become utterly use to being alone, and casted out. It was an exception I was willing to adjust to fast, and I guess that me, not being a people-person, eased the situation.

"Kris, won't you get up for school today?" Christ, that's how it all started. The shrilly, annoying voice of the woman whom I didn't choose before I popped out of. I called her Shelly. Hopefully I'll forget about her and you won't be hearing more about her, as the story proceeds.

Let's just say that after I had been woken up, before I had reached those door handles of Kamils High, before I met Sarah Williams, or opened that stupid book, I was Kristine Consteigle; Dream-Girl, Ice Princess, the abrasive writer with nothing, but bad things to say. And didn't care what the price was. The upfront, banter-striking, cold-hearted, and uncontrollably honest girl.

-I thought that life had completely gone down hill for me. That this was as good as it got. Everything I needed, I thought. But, being the joke that I always am. I was wrong. It only got worse.

-

Chapter One: Kristine Consteigle, Constantine

I was probably dead, somehow brought back to relive this unmistakable wreck. It was really Monday and I was late. Kamils High should have just been called, 'Kamils Military'. Hell, they probably had a squad standing at the door, those boring, never smiling, standing straight guys.

I'd laugh in their faces and beg them to show me a scowl. Tell them that my Aunt is more intimidating. It would escalate into me, being viciously hauled into jail.

A part of me snickered at this, seeing no signs of police cars or anything remotely threatening. I looked down at my cellphone, frowning at the bright numbers. Frowning as it claimed that it was around gym time. Too late to get dressed into a pair of used sweatpants. I forgot mine at home and shame on me.

Mustering up the rest of my energy, I made my way to the bleachers where I continued to watch my fellow classmates. A few giving me those infamous glares and a face I had never seen before.

New kids come in and the popular kids weigh them like a pound of bananas. Back against a poll and a pencil swirling between two fingers. She held a note-pad in hand. Surely, she could feel the stares and hear the whispers they made. The stranger didn't move and gave no sign of care.


Doesn't she know that she'll be chewed up this way? You shouldn't come into this building, styling your hair better than cheerleader, Nancy Doffany. I admit, for a first impression, she was dorky. Then again, who the hell am I to think like these students, or even pretend like I'm on the same planet as they are.

I turned away and started to walk up to the doors, relieved that it was warm. A shudder rippled through my body and instantly, as I felt myself become robust. What was it about this warmth that made me happy?

Creative writing, however, is very "tough" this year. Always the Senior classes! That's what they say. That Mr.Vernas was made of stones.

I took my seat in the back and took out last night's project. Write about your weekend and how much fun it was. Again, I couldn't help, but smirk at this. Mr.Vernas called out names, each classmate standing up to tell us about their chippy end of the weeks!

I stood up, listening as the class shifted to look at me. I wasn't a confident person, at least I don't think so. I just didn't care. "My weekend was spent nice. I went to East Bank cemetery and placed flowers on my kitten's grave. Slowly, I started to pet the dirt-"

Now this sent the class into hysterics. Not. They just stared on, with consumed faces. I don't understand why they don't like me, ha! I was fueling with sarcasm. School wasn't meant to be taken seriously, especially creative writing. This wasn't writing. It was a stupid question. 'How was your weekend?' Frankly, I don't care how your weekend was nor do I plan on telling you mine.

"That's quite enough, Kristine. You can sit down now." I took a bow, before perching myself in a desk. I looked around, reveling at how uncomfortable the whole room got. Besides one pair of hazel eyes. It was that damn nerd again. As if on cue, Mr.Vernas called on her. Now I'd finally get to know who she is without actually asking her. As if I would.

"Hello," she said, nervously. A defined english accent to go with her horrible fashion statement. Not that it was seriously horrible, but it sure was dramatic. She pushed away the messy black strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes, resting the the pieces over her shoulder and shifted from one foot to the other. "I spent the weekend unpacking and looking at the sites."

"Very good, Sarah Williams!" Mr.Vernas praised, giving me a longing stare. A 'ha ha' kind of look.

Dismissing his glare, I looked back at her. Sarah, hm, It fit her.

"Now, if you've had me before, you already know that I assign homework every night. Small poems or simple paragraphs." He looked down from the rim of his glasses, making sure that we all held his eyes. "Tonight's home work is to write about the most surreal dream you've had, recently."

I rolled my eyes, gathering my books and discarded them into the deep dark abyss of my bag. Again with the kiddie shit. How does this advance my writing? Just then-a paper flew across the room and landed on the new girl's lap. She suddenly raised from her seat and backed up against the wall.

"Do we have to write about our dreams?" It was like she was frightened, as her nails stayed planted, with this fearful look in her eyes. What was her deal? The bell finally rang and the girl was out the door, leaving behind a red paper-back book.


I picked it up, scanning for a title, declaring that it was definitely old. The book just came out for the play, someone actually made a damn book, couldn't they just see it performed on stage? "The Labyrinth sucked all twelve times I've seen it."

'Jareth only laughs and starts to swirl, gracefully. Freddie laughs with delight and Sarah struggles to reach him. With a superhuman effort she pushes through the mass of creatures and grabs onto Jareth's fluttering cloak. '


I smirked, while closing the book with a loud, WAP! Maybe I can actually do something constructional with my time here in school.

-

Lady_Saktaka:That was incredibly short, I know. There will be more, so comment and you'll recieve some more.

Jareth: Really, Saki. This story sucks... it's a rotting failure! I don't know what you intend on making of this mess.

Lady_Saktaka: Using you as my little puppet. You aren't the only manipulator in this room you know. I have ways...

Jareth: Go ahead, kiddies. Comment this waste of computer space, I promise not tip you-

Lady_Saktaka: Wait! I think I know this one...nose? head first?

Jareth: In to The Bog of-

Lady_Saktaka: Matural...?

Jareth: Eternal Stench, love. E-T-E-R-N-A-L, eternal.

Lady_Saktaka: You are a sad man, Mr.King.

Jareth: Whatever, just comment.