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Jar of Hearts (Harry)

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Post  Maggie Luchak Wed Feb 15, 2012 8:07 pm

She felt... heavy. So bogged down and foolish. There was a new weighty kind of shame that accompanied meal at Highgrove House. That bothered Maggie. Back home her meals where very mindfully prepared. They were light, healthy, with just enough of the things she needed without much excess. Certainly the food at Highgrove was healthy enough but no mass produced meal could ever match the level of care the diligent Luchak mother could manage. Magdalena Luchak was a wonderful cook and more over an intelligent and detail-oriented woman. She cooked a little differently for each of her eight children. Some like Myla, Ivan, and Basil needed protein and other things to give them the power and fuel that they needed. Annichka needed to steer clear of dairy products to keep her throat clean and crystal clear.

But for obvious reasons Maggie's diet was the most fussy of all. Singer, dancer, actress. Not only did her body need to function perfectly physically but it needed to look as beautiful as possible. Just the right combination of feminine curves and clean, lean dancing machine. So when Maggie ate at Highgrove: it could have very well have been an organic five star meal, but it would still feel rotten inside her. She felt sluggish and bloated. There was only one thing to be done about it. She'd known that after the first few meals. She needed to minimize it's damage.

At least once a day where was a meal that felt worse than usual. Maggie would grin and bear it. She's eat: bite by bite biding her time and waiting until she was sure she wouldn't raise an eyebrow. She clear away some and move some food around. Until it looked like she'd eaten a sizeable portion. Then with her winning smile she get rid of the plates and leave. She'd walk like nothing was wrong. All cheery, spark in her soul, skip in her step. Slipping into a ladie's room first chance she got. Simple, clean, effective.

This meal was no different. At dinner Maggie put away more than she'd have liked. As the meal ended, she could already feel that familiar feeling in her throat. Like a fist: all wrapped up, but inside her neck instead of outside. Full up until it seemed to overflow from her stomach up her esophagus until it seemed to sit at the very brink of her. As soon as she was able she left her table, left her plate behind. She walked confidently through the dining hall. Even offering the warden at the door a beautiful smile and a little wave. She stepped out of the dining hall into the hallway and closed the door neatly behind her.
Maggie Luchak
Maggie Luchak

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Post  Harold Masterson Sun Feb 19, 2012 3:18 pm

There was nothing special about this meal to Harry either and he suffered through it as he did all the others. Now that he had hit wit about him again the monotonous drag of the day to day was almost too much to for the budding sociopath. This whole “be good or get locked up” thing was going to push him over the edge long before any other disorder he may be suffering from. How did these people do it? How did they sit there, eat their meals, go to class, and make small talk with each other while surpassing the urge to strangle someone? They all felt as he did, he figured, but few were actually capable of carrying out the horrific deeds that played behind their eyes. They dreamed of turning around to their therapist and telling him to go fuck himself before braining him with a paper weight or fire poker. Harry could easily place himself behind the weapon; feel the weight of it in his hand. His muscles could imagine the force required to cave in a skull they tensed with want, longing for the day where he could actually but the bastards in the dirt.

Harry supposed that this was where he should be studying those around them and not in a group session. In the claustrophobic room with the oppressive shrink the other residents weren’t human. They were as still as the dead, afraid to breath out of fear of drawing attention to themselves. Out here, when they thought no one was looking, they let the walls down and behaved as the normally would. Harry still didn’t grasp the concept of acting like one of them, unable to properly wrap his head around the emotions that played on their faces. He didn’t feel sorrow or guilt and from what he’d seen these emotions played in with all the others. If you empathize with people you couldn’t really understand them. Harry had laughed when the girl fell on her face in group when everyone else seemed concerned for her well being. A mental note had been made that when someone got hurt he should feign such feelings but it was hard to not enjoy their pain. Pushing people down was what he did.

As the meal ended and Harry stood Maggie caught his eyes and he remained rooted at his seat for a moment, his mind kicking into high gear. He remembered her from the stairwell and how it had felt smashing that pretty little face into the wall over and over. His ego swelled even more at the memory of her having a fit seeing him in group therapy. She’d run from the room and the staff had no choice but to let her leave. She was that afraid of him as she should be. Harry was not a boy who should be trusted…but he should be. A light bulb lit in his mind and the roots that had held him still released, letting him walk briskly after the girl. Now he had an idea and it was just crazy enough to work. Maggie had blindly trusted him once before and if he played his cards right he might be able to get her to do it again. He had quite a tower stacked against him but it was worth a shot. It didn’t matter if she didn’t latch on right away, so long as the seeds could be planted.

He stepped into the hall a few paces behind her, spotting her quickly and following her down the hall. There were too many people crowded around the dining hall and if she flipped her shit as she did last time it would alert the staff and very likely Dr. Bjorgen. The man seemed to be itching to lock him back in seclusion. So he waited, letting her get away from the gatherings before he made his move. “Maggie, wait.” He called out, making sure to filter his voice to sound as normal as possible. The smirk that ached to spread across his lips would likely make its way into his speech if he let it. “Just hear me out before you run.” He could say he wasn’t going to hurt her but that would be a lie. Dr. Bjorgen did want him to be honest after all.
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Post  Maggie Luchak Tue Feb 21, 2012 12:23 pm

A flicker of a cringe flashed along her face before she became composed again. Now was not a time she wanted to get interrupted. She had too much to do and it was faaaaar too important to make time for small talk. She had places to be. Still, it wasn't as if she could ignore her name being called. That was the kind of bitchy routine that got a person no where in life. The Cold Shoulder Act never sold out, it bombed, every-time.

So she plastered a pleasant look on her face. Thought about puppies and Christmas Dinners back home. The kind of stuff that made even her most false of smiles plausible. The stuff that put that natural light and sparkle in her eyes. She turned to see who was calling her rather lovely name.

As soon as she saw the face behind her, the one that was actually looking at her, she turned back around. Thus far in her life there was only one soul that the above rules didn't apply too. Harry. That vicious villain that already seemed to have done everything in his power to ruin her life. A life that was clearly much more promising than his could ever be. Perhaps if there was something to gain from forgiving him she might have tried. If he had any connections to her world that could somehow benefit her by making nice. But Harry was a lowlife, she didn't even need to ask around to figure that out. There was simply no way a toxin like him could have any connection to the beautiful world of the arts and performance. He'd simply poison the place.

“Just hear me out before you run.”

She all but groaned. Glancing around at any other people she could see. They were all quite a bit further than he was but they still might hear. What would they think? Maggie would hate for any rumours to go around. Like she was some kind of skank that maybe did something to deserve the black eyes he'd given her. If she bolted like she wanted to she might look like she was hiding something. She certainly didn't want that. She turned back around quickly.

"What do you want?" she demanded. Folding her arms across her chest in a manner meant to show that she was entirely not wanting to speak to him. Her was no smile and no light in her eyes. They were actually narrowed a bit. And expression she'd rarely used outside of her acting classes. "And you better stay right there or I'm gone."
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