helpme_fixme

helpme_fixme @ 2009-11-14T04:34:00

2009-11-14T09:34:12Z

I'm not the carefullest of girls.

helpme_fixme @ 2007-12-22T09:50:00

2007-12-22T14:51:34Z

Never been kissed under the mistletoe...

Leading Ladies, Leading Men

2007-06-11T19:29:16Z

Your Score: Barbara Stanwyck

You scored 30% grit, 23% wit, 38% flair, and 14% class!

You're a tough dame, a bit of a spitfire, and you can even be a little dangerous, but you do it with such flair that almost all is forgiven (and even when it's not, you're still the most interesting woman in the room). You can be witty and charming, all right, but you have a tough streak that keeps you focused and sometimes deadly. You've had quite a climb to get where you are, but you're a hard worker and you mostly deserve all you get...and then some. You might end up destroying everything around you, but you must admit...you've got style. Your leading men include Henry Fonda, Fred MacMurray, and when you forget yourself, Gary Cooper.

Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the
Classic Leading Man Test.

Link: The Classic Dames Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Your Score: Jimmy Stewart

You scored 11% Tough, 0% Roguish, 61% Friendly, and 14% Charming!

You are the fun and friendly boy next door, the classic nice guy who still manages to get the girl most of the time. You're every nice girl's dreamboat, open and kind, nutty and charming, even a little mischievous at times, but always a real stand up guy. You're dependable and forthright, and women are drawn to your reliability, even as they're dazzled by your sense of adventure and fun. You try to be tough when you need to be, and will gladly stand up for any damsel in distress, but you'd rather catch a girl with a little bit of flair. Your leading ladies include Jean Arthur and Donna Reed, those sweet girl-next-door types.

Find out what kind of classic dame you'd make by taking the
Classic Dames Test.

Link: The Classic Leading Man Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Best Friends and Scars

2007-05-12T05:47:35Z

Amanda wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and stared at the television as the Golden Girls started. She supposed she’d seen every episode at some point, between the flickering televisions with their set channels in prison and old sets at the houses of the old friends while getting high. At one point there had been four of them who, for a few months, always seemed to find themselves stoned at the right time. Amanda was dubbed Sophia. The girls were, honestly, the closest friends she had in most of her life. Then she OD’d and by the time she was out of the hospital, they’d all moved on. She hadn’t watched the Golden Girls since.
Not until John had saved her, and she’d flopped on the couch in a fit of depression a few days after the second visit to Adam. There was a marathon on the television that served as her mentor’s background noise for the day. It made her think of friendship, of those she lost. It made her realize that she no longer had close friends. It made her cry. John heard her and came from his drawing board to the old couch, silently wrapping his arms around her and letting tears soak his shirt.
“I don’t have any friends,” she whimpered. The words felt hollow, a flashback to childhood. He turned her tear-streaked face to his, meeting her bloodshot eyes.
“You have me.” The calm honesty in his voice was exactly what she needed.
“Does that make you my best friend?” Again, she felt childish. He paused, seeming to consider it, then nodded.
“I suppose it does. That would make you mine as well.” He gave her one of those twinkling, mischievous smiles before looking at the television. They settled together, watching for a few moments like it was the most normal thing for a pair of killers to do. “My ex-girlfriend loved this show, made me watch,” he murmured. Another pause fell over them before he added, “You know…I always liked Sophia.”

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 337
Current Topic: Who's your best friend, and why?

“‘Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.’ Said by…?”
“Kahlil Gibran.”
“Very good.”
“Very true.”

Amanda looked herself over in the mirror, trying to find her imperfections. The most glaring to her were the track marks, though their location made them easier to hide from the rest of the world. Turning revealed the Celtic cougar tattoo on her shoulder, and the thin line down her hip from a nasty tumble down the stairs some years back. Looking closer, she saw small silvery stretch marks, hard to see from a distance, marking age and growth on her breasts, under her arms, the insider of her thighs. On her stomach was a tiny scar from a girl at daycare so long ago; her playmate had to make everything realistic, and playing Doctor had gone awry when an operation was in order. There were scrapes on her knuckles and knees that hadn’t healed quite right, proof that she had been let out to play on occasion as a child. When she looked hard enough, she could see the scars on her wrists from a suicide she never meant. John had been so good to her, patching her up and making sure there would be very little evidence. He was still so good to her, even as he weakened.

“‘God will not look you over for medals, degrees, or diplomas, but for scars.’”
“Elbert Hubbard. You believe in God?”
“On occasion.”
“Very good.”

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 248
Current Topic: Tell the story of one of your past scars (not followed strictly)

Would you ever kill a human being?

2007-04-30T07:19:25Z

That would depend on your definition of “taking a life.”
I’ve beat people up before, some pretty badly. I’ve dealt drugs that could have lead to an overdose. Not a lot of that, turns out I’m a really crappy dealer. I’ve almost killed myself more than once.
I’ve kidnapped a man who said I looked like a rock star, took my picture, and invited me to a concert. That’s not the reason I took him, chained him in a bathroom with two other men, one of whom had to kill him to get out. I’ve chained another man in a room, punishment for failing a test.
To be honest, I do know for a fact that I’ve taken a life before. I had a madman coming at me with a knife, ready to kill me. To protect myself and someone in my care, I had to defend myself. That meant taking the nearest sharp object and lashing out, hitting his throat, slitting it wide open. Guess that’s a faster way to answer the question. Yes, I have, and yes, I would again.
Of course, you also have the debate of “when life begins,” but I’d rather not think about that.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 200
Current Topic: Would you ever kill a human being?

Write a fan letter

2007-04-17T06:45:46Z

Dear John,
When you found me, I was a junky whore who would do anything for her next fix. Near-death didn’t change me, just dried me out and made that first hit out of the hospital better than an orgasm. You’ve patched me up, made me appreciate everything. You took me from a crappy apartment with heat that didn’t work, thin blankets on a lumpy bed, a mostly-empty fridge, water that rarely ran and roaches that always did. Now I have the lab; it can be chilly sometimes until all those lights warm it up, and the water’s not always hot, but I have a comfortable bed and heavy blankets, a full stomach, and you. My thoughts used to lean toward the next high and how to get it. Now, I think about changing people, making the world someplace worth being, one person at a time.
You changed everything. You gave me a home. You gave me life.
I love you.
Your biggest fan,
Amanda

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 165
Current Topic: Write a fan letter

Pick your parents

2007-04-04T04:27:50Z

Anyone but the ones I had.
What, that’s not enough? Dammit…okay.
Once, years ago, one of my friends asked that. I said Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin because they wouldn’t bitch if I got high. Maybe they’d even tell me where to get the best stuff. Now that I’m done with that part of my life, that question will take some thought.
John got me started looking at religion, pointing out the stories of the Bible as tales of people’s lives, asking questions unrelated to faith. Thinking of that, I’d choose the Virgin Mary to be my mother. She’d understand that life is short, that your child can go at any time, so you have to make ever last moment count. Not like my mother, who wanted me out of her hair, couldn’t wait for me to grow up and go. For my father…guess I’d choose John. Not “Jesus’ step-dad” John, my John. Jigsaw. He’s taught me things, guided me, saved me. Not like my father, who beat me and locked me under the stairs.
You satisfied with that?
Good. Next question.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 182
Current Topic: If you could pick anyone in the world, alive or dead, to be your parents, who would it be and why?

What is the biggest mistake you've made in a relationship?

2007-03-30T06:03:32Z

When I was a little girl, I never told anyone outside of my family about my father beating me. That’s the biggest mistake I can think of. I could have been put somewhere else and been well-loved, brought up like the other kids in class. I’d have never been in the position to go to jail then. If I hadn’t gone to jail, I wouldn’t have gotten hooked on smack. Without that, obviously, I wouldn’t have OD’d. No OD, no hospital, no being placed in the path of the Jigsaw Killer. If I’d just told somebody what was happening, maybe I’d have a husband, kids, a home with a white picket fence and a dog named Spot.
Then again, I don’t like the idea of marriage, or most kids, and the “perfect life” always creeped me out. Guess keeping my mouth shut didn’t turn out so badly after all.
Come on, you didn’t expect me to write about the lovey-dovey kind of relationship, did you?

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 165
Current Topic: What is the biggest mistake you've made in a relationship?

Time

2007-03-29T05:33:03Z

2 minuets. 120 seconds. Enough time to take someone’s life and safe your own. That tick-tock of the little clock in your head will drive you mad.
15 minutes. A quarter hour and a kind person can patch someone’s wounds, inside and out. If it’s not perfect, at least it’s enough to save a life again.
1 minute. That’s all it takes to chop off your hair when you realize that something has to change. Not enough to make it really presentable, unless you don’t care how you look.
6 months. The time it took for a loved one to realize that something was very wrong with his body.
5 minutes. The time it takes to explain that the “something” is cancer, and there’s no stopping it. Enough time to realize that when enough time passes, you’re going to be alone.
Several years. Enough time for cancer to kill.
Enjoy the time you have. It’ll never be enough.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 157
Current Topic: Time

Fragile

2007-03-25T21:35:06Z

People are fragile. Not like porcelain dolls, where it doesn’t take a lot to shatter. We’re more like bones. It takes some force, but we can be crushed.
But maybe it takes less than you'd think. A few long days spent under the stairs when you’re terrified of the dark. A few short nights of guard calling you names so disgusting that they’d never crossed your mind before. A needle full of poison, the kind of poison you‘d do anything to get. A trap that could kill you. A razor blade that probably will. A man blinded with rage. A mission to keep one person alive. The knowledge that someone you love is going to die.
The thing is, just like bones, we can heal if we’re put back together right. Trouble with that is, you always have that little line that never goes away, proof of fragility. Even if you patch it all just right, do everything you’re supposed to…those cracks always show.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 164
Current Topic: Fragile

helpme_fixme @ 2007-03-22T05:22:00

2007-03-22T09:23:27Z

I was bored.

Party!

2007-03-16T21:26:48Z

Not long after I faced death for the second time, a couple weeks after the incident with the razor, John took me to a party. It was the kind of thing I used to go to when I needed a fix: loud music, flashing lights, tons of booze and drugs. It was a willpower test. I mean, sure, he was going there to talk to a guy about another game, but there was no other reason for me to go along.
John pointed out Obi and told me that when we started the next game, to stay out of his way. Then he pushed me to the dance floor, saying it wouldn’t be a good idea for the bald man to see us together. I didn’t even think about it, just started to dance, lost myself in the music like I’d done a million times before…until I heard a familiar voice.
“Mandy Mandy Mandy!” I turned to face Alyssa, an old drug buddy. She liked me because I’d do X with her, and I liked her because she shared her stash. She was bouncing all over the place and waving her stupid glow sticks like a twelve-year-old at her first concert; she was, on the last birthday I remembered, 32 years old. “Oh my God, Mandy, where have you been?” It had been on the news, that one person survived Jigsaw’s traps, but I didn’t expect her to watch TV. I really didn’t want to be called Mandy. That was what everyone I used to use with called me, it was what the cop in the police station called me, it was what hospital nuns who tried to be my friends called me…and John never used it. “Oh, wow, I mean like…whoa, you know? This is totally like a reunion or something! We haveta do something special, c’mon! I’ve got some more X! Roll with me!” Someone grabbed my waist, and I heard a low, familiar voice in my ear.
“Amanda.” I melted back into John thankfully. “We have to go.” I grinned at Alyssa and gave her a quick hug, saying that I had to go.
“New boyfriend,” I called over the music, not thinking about the fact that he could hear me too. “Takes real good care of me.” She gave me a knowing look and went back to dancing as if we’d never spoken. In the parking lot, John raised an eyebrow at me.
“Boyfriend?” His pale eyes were shining, they way they did only rarely, when he was truly amused. “Is that how you see me?” Before I could answer, he went on. “You’re a quick thinker, Amanda. It’s what saved you the first time, and it will keep you safe in the house.”
I didn’t get the chance to tell him that I still didn’t know what to call him.
Now, months later…I still don’t.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 480
Current Topic: Party!

Disillusionment

2007-03-05T03:46:32Z

When I was a little girl, I was happiest at my grandmother’s house. Her kitchen was warm, bright and sunny. I’d come in with a black eye, and she’d get out the something cool to put over it, and once my eye stopped hurting we’d make something to eat.
“How’d you get it this time, baby?” She always called me baby. Bay-beh, in her Southern drawl. I’d tell her about the bad grade, the complaint, how I didn’t get to the bus in time. “Well, baby, now you know not to do that again.” When I was eight, I asked her why she didn’t say anything about it, because I saw an after-school special about abuse. She shook her head and smiled, putting the cookies in the oven.
“Baby, c’mere.” She took out her Bible and pulled a little sheet from the inside, using it as a reference to look up verses. Don’t remember the exact words, but they came down to “spare the rod, spoil the child.” “They only do it because they love you, baby. I hit your mama too, and she came up just fine. Children need a little discipline, otherwise they get wild. You lean how to behave each time they get ya, do you?” I nodded, and for two more years I believed ever word. Then we moved, and I got away from her. I learned that all those warm happy days…she was letting my parents abuse me. She was encouraging it. Tore down my entire view of childhood.
You asked for disillusionment, John. Is that good enough?

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 263
Current Topic: Write about disappointment or disillusion.

Do you believe in ghosts?

2007-02-27T05:00:45Z

When I was little, I thought I saw a ghost at the end of the hall. Told my mama and got slapped for telling lies. I never said I believed in ghosts after that.
I can’t really afford to anymore. I’ve watched too many people die to think they’re all hanging around somewhere. If the spirits of the dead really lingered, they‘d be all over us. I’d go crazy.
Now, there’s also the “ghosts of the past.” No denying that those. Memories can haunt you, leave you frightened and cowering with no one to tell. I’m still afraid of the dark because of my father. I’m still afraid of getting fat because of my mother. I’m still afraid of people leaving because of all my old boyfriends. I’m still afraid of having things around my face and in my mouth because of John. Those things, the ghosts of the past, are the only ones I believe in.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 157
Current Topic: Do you believe in ghosts?

Night

2007-02-18T07:26:14Z

When I was little, night was something sacred. Only grown-ups were out at night. I had to be in bed and suffer with my curiosity.
When I got started going to parties, I never stayed too late. Late night was when the heavy drugs came out. I was fine with some weed and booze, but heroin never crossed my mind. I always told my friends, “you’re going to get arrested.” Funny how things work out.
When I was on my own, when things started going down-hill, night was when I…worked my second job. It was night when a police officer propositioned me. Against the law, of course, but when people know you’re a whore and they find drugs in your purse (drugs that weren’t there before the officer came on the scene) no one’s gonna believe you.
When I was in jail, night was when I got addicted. The guards weren’t watching then.
Night, the darkest before the dawn, was when I was kidnapped. By the time I passed my test it was bright morning sunlight. When I went to the police station it was bright both times, telling my story a second time so they could maybe get the “madman” to confess. I went home after the second time to my dark apartment where John waited and took me to our new home and my new purpose.
Since then, I mostly go out at night. That’s when it’s best to grab people for our games. I rarely have to go out during the day anymore, not when there’s Wal-Mart for groceries and hardware and duct tape and cameras. Plus, you know, that’s when you don’t have to deal with the squalling children. Night is when the grown-ups are out.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 290
Current Topic: Night

What Are You Waiting For?

2007-02-13T04:10:40Z

Oh, I have a lot to wait for. I'm waiting for the clock to hit six so I can go get the latest ungrateful bastard to play his game. He'll never make it, trust me. They never do.
I'm waiting for the microwave to finish John's ramen. He doesn't mind the cheap noodles. Money is better spent on other things and besides, his sense of smell is going 'cause of the tumor and taste goes with it. It's not something I ever really thought about, but it's true. One of the many things he's taught me. I don't mind eating them either; there are better things to worry about now, no matter how much I just want a goddamn extra-cheesy cheeseburger with tons of catsup dripping down like blood onto thin greasy fries. John would think it was disgusting and a waste, so I eat his leftover noodles and I don't think about it. Much.
I'm waiting for John to die. That sounds cold but it's true and he told me to be honest in this thing. I'm waiting in fear, and to a lesser extent I'm waiting in anticipation. I don't want him to go, don't wanna be alone. There's so much he can still teach me. There's so much I still want to learn. I want to carry on his legacy. I want to be his cure for death, his immortality. I want to make him proud.
I want the clock to hit six so I can think about something else.

Muse: Amanda Young
Fandom: Saw (I, II, III)
Word Count: 253
Current Topic: What are you waiting for?