`days like this // gregory

[natalie kovac]

she broke your throne and she cut your hair
and from your lips she drew the hallelujah
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Just far enough back from the lake where the grass met the shoreline, there was a small bunch of large rocks that Natalie loved to come and sit on, even on a chilly day in late November. There was one in particular in the middle of the bunch that was just big enough for her and her purse, which is where she sat this morning. One leg was folded under the other, with the other hanging over the edge of the rock, and her favorite journal sat in her lap while she wrote with her right hand and held her make-shift coat closed with the other. Had she not underestimated the cold, Natalie would have grabbed something a little bit heavier before leaving her apartment, but she did. After all, the weather hadn't said that it would be this chilly. At the same time, it was her own fault for being ignorant. It was closing in on the end of November, and she did live in "The Windy City" after all.

'Mio Mama' was the first thing the woman carefully wrote in her journal. In English, it translated to "Dear Mom." You see, this wasn't a regular journal for her. This journal was probably the only thing that she had that she could relate to her mother. It was bought for her years ago, when she was a little girl in Croatia. Her mom and dad had it specially made for her, and had decided to give it to her when she was older. On the cover in the bottom right corner, it had her name in silver lettering. Well, her birth name. Natalija Ana Kovac. It was still her name, to her. Whenever she wrote letters home to her grandparents or old friends she would sign them Natalija instead of Natalie. Maybe it was a comfort thing, she wasn't sure, but she did it all the same.

Inside the front cover in her mother's handwriting were the words, 'Na naš Natalija , sretan roðenje , hatar mama i tata,' which meant "To our Natalija, Happy Birthday, love Mom and Dad." It was a gift that was supposed to be given to her years ago, but her father told her when he took it with him to America (to keep her from finding it early, you see) it became lost in boxes. He had just found it again a couple months ago and finally gave it to her. Natalie had been overjoyed. Not only was it something else for her to write in, but also it gave her the sort of connection to her mom that she desired. It was very hard since almost everything they owned was lost to the fire when she was younger, and everything that wasn't was buried beneath mounds of ash and rubble.

That was all about 14 years ago though, she had gotten over it. Well, you know, as much as one could get over something like that. Every now and again she still had nightmares about that night, and when she was a kid in general, but then she woke up in her apartment and remembered that everything was okay now. If she did on the off chance need someone to talk to her dad lived right outside the city and her brother was not too far away. It was a very rare occasion though that Natalie talked to anyone about that stuff, even her family. In fact, outside of her family she didn't really talk to anyone at all unless she had to. Call her a loner if you want to, but she had a very hard time opening up to people. That was usually clear within the first two minutes of talking to her when she became defensive and cold.

The woman continued to scribble down in her journal her letter to her mom. This was the only thing she had that she didn't write in English in. First off, it gave her good practice writing in Croatian for when she wanted to write to friends and family, and second, her mom wouldn't understand English. Many people would argue and say that she wouldn't understand anything at all because she was dead, but Natalie felt like her mom read her letters to her, even if she couldn't write back. On top of that, it was another comfort thing. It helped the girl feel at peace with herself. She wasn't crazy, she was just reminiscent.

________________________________________________________

`Status: Finished!
`Tag: Gregory Resh
`Word Count: 754
`Lyrics By: Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
`Notes:

[/font] pic by me
Outfit: Clickie
First post with Natalie! =D[/blockquote][/size]

[gregory resh]

- - - - - - - - - - -

It was early in the day yet, Greg didn’t have to go to work until after dinner it was just barely after lunch. With Carly in tow, Greg took his daughter down to the boardwalk for lunch. After an argument of cotton candy not being an acceptable lunch, he finally convinced her to get chicken fingers and fries. Probably not much better, considering the whole thing was deep-fried, but he promised he would make sure she ate healthy for dinner. She liked carrots, he’d have to make sure there was still a can in the cabinet. If there wasn’t, he knew there were peas left. Carly liked peas also. She liked to squish them between her fingers and watch their “guts” come out before eating them. It was cute, but sometimes the mess afterward was worth keeping a storage of carrots.

After lunch, the walking began. It wasn’t a very far walk or a very fast one, considering Carly needed about five steps to match one of her father’s. It didn’t take long for Greg to swing his daughter onto his shoulders so he could walk normally. Plus, it was one of Carly’s favorite things; to be up high so she could see everything around her. It was better to do it as much as possible now before she got too heavy for him to do it. He knew that would be a disappointing time, it was for him when he became too big to sit on his own father’s shoulders. It was also easier for him to control her from up there, seeing as how he was her legs as well. This way, she couldn’t try to veer off in the direction of an inviting stray animal or something that from a distance appeared cute and harmless but up close was shaggy and vicious. He really didn’t want to have to explain the social services that his daughter was mauled by a stray dog. That would go over real well…and was also a horrible thing to think about.

It didn’t take long for Carly to start asking to go down to the beach. She didn’t have her bathing suit on, nor did Greg, but it was nearly the end of November, the water was too cold to be in two months ago anyway. Veering off the boardwalk to the steps that descended to meet the sandy shore. In his sandals, Greg could feel the cold sand seeping between his toes and sandals. Maybe the sand wasn’t the greatest idea. ”Let’s go over on the grass.” He told Carly, pointing not barely ten yards away where the beige sand blended with the browning, dying grass. ”No, I wanna make a sand castle.” Came the expected complaint. Greg had anticipated something to that effect. ”All right, you can sit on the edge of the grass and play with the sand.” He didn’t tell her that without water to make the sand gooey, she wasn’t going to have much luck with a sand castle, but she was a smart kid, she would figure it out soon enough and when she did he had better be in her path to the water.

When they made it to the grass, Greg reached up and lifted his daughter off his shoulders to set down on the grass. In contrast to Greg’s sandals, shorts, and long-sleeved shirt; Carly was decked out in sneakers, warm pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a coat. She had started off with a hat also, but within five minutes of leaving the house wouldn’t keep it on her head so it was now in Greg’s pocket. Even though she should really have it on, he wasn’t going to get into a fight with her over it. The sooner he picked a fight before leaving the house, the longer the rebellion would last. It was just better to lecture her later when she caught the sniffles about the importance of bundling up in the cold. It didn’t help much that Greg himself wasn’t being the best role model though.

Carly plopped down on the grass and went to her business. Greg folded himself down next to her, planting his feet in the sand and burying them as deep as he could. Soon Carly was adding more sand on top of them, which kept her busy enough to forget the sand castle for the time being. While Carly was busy entertaining herself, Greg took the time to survey the surroundings. There wasn’t anyone on the beach but them. Of course not, it was November and too cold. He could see people on the boardwalk and the stray cats underneath the boardwalk. He just hoped Carly didn’t. Gradually, his body began turning until he was facing Lake Michigan, then the large rocks that kids enjoyed claiming in the name of whomever and adults liked sitting on to read or watch their kids and the teenagers liked making-out on. With searching eyes, Greg found the exact rock that he and Harper had made-out on once. He hated when he instinctively sought out memories like that because it brought them back when he didn’t want them around. It made him suddenly overly aware of the little girl sitting beside him; not in a negative way toward Carly, but toward Harper. What she did was something he could never and would never forgive her for.

Before he was able to put his attention back on his daughter, it was taken by a young woman sitting on one of the flat rocks near to the one that had a history with Greg. He watched her intently as she wrote, watching the pen move. For the fun of it he tried to follow the motion of the letters but he was too far away to tell the different between an ‘r’ and a ‘p’. Being a male of his species, instinct began setting in and the urge to court took over. Well, not court exactly just the urge to talk to her, maybe get to know her a little. He wasn’t really a relationship kind of guy anymore after Harper unless it was strictly friends. He didn’t have the time or the money for it, but friends were something you didn’t need much of either to have. Shifting his eyes to the water, Greg began to think better of it. He didn’t want to disturb her and it had been a long time since he talked to a girl. He talked to girls before, all the time in fact, but not because he was lured to them. They were usually the ones to make the moves, otherwise it was strictly business. He wasn’t even sure if he was lured to this woman or something else.

”Carly, I’ll be right back. Stay right here and don’t move okay?” He leaned forward to he could see her face and waited a moment for a small nod. ”Okay daddy.” He couldn’t help but grin at the word. Ever since she learned to say it, it always formed a warm feeling in his heart. Pulling his feet out of the sand mound, Greg got to his feet and on the slow walk over to the girl tried to get the sand out of his sandal and out of his head. His mind worked on automatic as he devised every opening line he could think of. In the end he just blurted out ”Hey.” before he could kick himself for not coming up with something better. He wasn’t standing directly behind her but sort of off to the side like he was looking over her shoulder. His eyes drifted to the book she was writing in, but even if he wanted to he couldn’t read a single work on the page. He opened his mouth to mention the odd language she seemed to be writing in but thought better of it. He didn’t want her to get defensive that he was some perverted snoop or something. So he just said hey again but this time added, ”I’m Greg.” Idiot.

[natalie kovac]

she broke your throne and she cut your hair
and from your lips she drew the hallelujah
________________________________________________________

About halfway down the page, Natalie's pen began to die. She frowned and shook it violently, then tried again. It worked for all of five seconds, and then faded once more. Her gaze shifted for a moment to her large purse, in which she figured was a bunch of pens scattered around somewhere. Did she really want to try and dig for one? No, not really. She would end up emptying everything and then realizing that there was way too much stuff and she had to go through it all. That, however, was not something that Natalie wanted to do while sitting on a rock by Lake Michigan. That was something to do on her kitchen able or living room floor. For now, she would just stick to this pen, and when it got too frustrating that meant that it was time to head back home.

The young woman shivered a little and wrapped her left arm a little tighter around herself while she shook the pen and started writing again. Again, it lasted for a few seconds and died. Maybe if she stopped writing for a little while? That could help. Natalie wrapped her fingers around the pen, hoping that letting it warm up would do something. In the mean time, her eyes wandered. They looked out over the lake for a little bit, then up at the city. She could see where she worked from here. The building she worked in had a nice view of the lake, but unfortunately her desk was on the other side. Natalie did get to see the lake every day, but it wasn't right outside her window like she would prefer. Actually, she didn't have her own window; she shared a window with everyone else in the room. She was a receptionist, so they obviously did not get their own offices. The woman wanted a new job. No, not because of the window thing.

Something else then caught her attention. Natalie glanced down to the beach to see a father and daughter walking along. At least, she thought it was a father and daughter, maybe a brother and sister? That was possible too, but she decided to go with her first instinct. She watched them with a soft smile as the little girl sat down and started playing in the sand, and then averted her eyes back to her journal. Even though she wasn't the most outgoing person, Natalie did love kids. She wanted to have some of her own eventually. Of course, that would mean that she would have to meet a man and get married first, and since the girl had such a hard time meeting people she really doubted that would happen any time soon. It was okay though, she still had her whole life ahead of her, and if it really came down to it there was always adoption also.

Figuring the pen had been warmed up enough by now, Natalie loosened her grip on it and shook it up again, then once more tried her hand at writing. This time it lasted more than a few seconds, but that wasn't to say it wouldn't die soon. She would wait it out, see how long it lasted, but if it died again she was done trying. As the woman scribbled down her thoughts, she could faintly hear footsteps in the distance slowly growing louder, but being so emerged in what she was doing it went almost unnoticed. At least, until the footsteps had come to a stop and a masculine "Hey" broke through her thoughts and made her jump from surprise. Almost instantly, something inside her clicked and that familiar feeling of just wanting to be left alone flooded through her again. No matter how much she wanted to help it, she couldn't. As cliché as it was, Natalie was a loner, and a bit of a brat sometimes.

She frowned to herself and glanced over her shoulder, seeing the man who a few minutes ago had been with the little girl playing in the sand not too far away. "Hi." Her voice was unintentionally hard, but all the same she turned back to her book and continued writing in hopes that maybe he would take a hint and leave. It was like when you didn't want to talk to someone so you pretended to read in hopes that they would stop, only this time she wasn't pretending. Natalie hadn't come to fraternize, she had come to be alone and talk with her mom. ”I’m Greg.” He was going to force this small talk thing on her, wasn't he? She hated small talk. It was uncomfortable and she never knew what to say. "That's nice." The girl hated herself right now. If she weren't herself she would hate her, but no matter how often she tried to be nice it didn't work. It was embedded in her personality.

________________________________________________________

`Status: Finished!
`Tag: Gregory Resh
`Word Count: 835
`Lyrics By: Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah
`Notes:

[/font] pic by me
Outfit: Clickie
I'm getting lazy xD I think I'm going to go back to
not changing the lyrics every post for now LoL[/blockquote][/size]