This is a short realistic story. If you were the most lucky girl in the world, it could happen to you. It involves Fan Fiction, love, and... Robert?
And There Was You
I was lost, and then I found my passion. With my passion, I found
My life was plain. Simple. Almost pathetic. I didn’t have anything that would make me wake up the next day with a smile, that would make me want to look through the window and see the blue sky, the birds singing.
School was lame, friends weren’t really friends, and I couldn’t find that boy I would actually like and would actually treat me right. Anything at all felt right. But then I read them.
gave me a new perspective to look at things. I found out that I could immerse myself in an unreal world that would make me live through the real one. I found a refuge in every character, some thing of them that would make me hang on the next day, and the next one.
When the movie of the first book came out, I found out that I had developed a completely sick crush for the star that portrayed Edward; Robert Pattinson. And not only because his face was beautiful and he was funny, but because his mind seemed so completely in another world all the time. Only his body seemed to be in the place of the interview, his mind seemed to always be flying to where he wanted. Just like mine.
One night I was looking through the window of my room in my little, made of wood, house in Montevideo. I had a fight with my mother that morning, so my eyes were red, my throat dry of how many tears had escaped from them. Useless tears.
In the same time a shooting star flew through the sky like a big meteor, it hit me. What if instead of reading and having to stay with what somebody else wrote about the characters I loved with all my skin, would I be the one doing it? Why couldn’t I be the one that could provide them more life, that could plan different scenarios they would have to endure, different situations in which they would have to show how strong and deep they were? Why couldn’t I take a chance? Why couldn’t I do something myself?
With that thought wandering in every corner of my sometimes too lazy brain – and other times just too complex – I sat in the chair of my room, turned on my laptop, and began to type.
I wrote, and wrote, and wrote without looking for anything, without a specific place to reach. I wrote just to let out all my feelings, all my thoughts about these characters that had for sure changed my life.
My fingers were aching when the sun was already showing its eminent presence in my window again. The laptop was all too hot when I touched its back part. My body was tense for having spent so many ours in the same position, my eyes were red again – but this time for tiredness.
But not my mind, or my heart, or the smile that was pasted on my lips were for pain at all. In the ten chapters I had written of this crazy story, I had found a lot more things than tiredness and soaring fingers and red eyes… I had found out that I could actually feel so many different emotions at the same time; that I could laugh and cry for something I was doing myself. In my stories I could be God. The God I couldn’t be in my own, real life.
School was really demanding the next days, so were my parents and my little brother, therefore my poor laptop was accumulating dust on its surface. And my fingers were, with each day that passed, more impatient for touching the keys again.
The cold of winter had made out doors activities almost an impossible event, so, gladly, I wouldn’t go out so much. On Sundays I would spend all day writing, and writing. Not caring about what the others would tell me. Not worrying about becoming too addicted. Because at least, I had found an addiction. I had found something I couldn’t live without. I had found something that would keep me alive, that would make the cells of my body react.
Spring arrived and the story that had at first found no path at all, was now reaching its end, the journey of it was spoken in every word I had written, even without an intention. The same day I finished the whole story, and was surfing in the internet to search for ideas for a title, I found a forum. Just one name took completely my attention, and without even thinking it twice, I clicked on the link.
The Twilight Saga
, was my first thought. I had found a page that would tell the story of my life in just three words. And not only that, I also found that there was actually a name for what I had been clueless doing. I was writing Fan Fiction, I had written a complete Fan Fiction story without even knowing it in the first place.
With a speed I didn’t know I had in me, I filled the form and signed up. I smiled as I stared at my laptop screen.
, that was my name. And yes she did. She dreamed of becoming this person she was when she would write, but to become her in her real life – not only behind a computer screen.
I started posting a chapter by day, praying every night before going to sleep, that somebody would read and enjoy it as much as I had enjoyed writing it. I only vowed one thing to myself; this story that I had done, was only for me. It didn’t matter if people wouldn’t read it; it only mattered if I had enjoyed the process of it. And I sure had.
But I couldn’t lie to myself. It mattered in a horrible way if the others liked the story or not. Because they weren’t only testing characters and twists, they were truly testing me
With a huge grin on my face and shiny eyes, I discovered that people actually enjoyed my story. Their kind comments encouraging me to write more would let me know that.
But there was only one person that would make my heart pound every time I would read his comments. Robert
, that was his name - at least the name he would use. His amazing reviews of my chapters would always give me goose bumps all over my skin, with no reason at all. He just seemed to be always feeling the same emotions I had when I was writing it. His words would always show me how deep he could feel. And that amazed me.
One night I had stayed up late editing the chapter I would post tomorrow, I received an e-mail in my The Twilight Saga’s inbox. My eyes widened unexpected when I saw the ‘1 new’ next to my inbox, I had never received one here.
I clicked the inbox, clueless, not expecting anything special. But the sender name made my breath go in an uneven way. And a nervous smile started to play with my lips as I read the subject.
‘Hello Penelope, what do you dream about?’
Alright, as some of you keep asking, I think I should clear this up. This story is not my life, it's fictional. BUT it does have some things of me, but nothing precise. Just some feelings here and there, oh, and the way I see Robert Pattinson. That will be completely the truth :) Thank you for your comments, I appreciate them from my heart.