Spitefic: Listen
Jan. 25th, 2011 07:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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twispiteficTitle: Listen
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gehayi
Fandom(s): New Moon
Rating: R
Word Count: 755
Summary: Emily has a very good reason for pretending to love Sam Uley
Chapter Inspiration: Chapter 14 – Family
Warning: Physical and emotional abuse
Author’s Note: Written as a way to make Emily a little more sympathetic and puts a very disturbing spin (like it wasn’t disturbing enough already) on the Sam/Emily relationship.
***
Listen to me, Sam.
The first thing Sam does when he comes home is kiss her scars.
Emily loathes this, for the scars are his handiwork. To her, this is self-congratulation. He’d claim he’s saying I love you despite your disfigurement. He wouldn’t see that isn’t an improvement...for that states that an ugly woman can never receive more than a watered-down version of love, a Goodwill donation for the undeserving.
Sam would swear that he doesn’t think that way. But he still keeps kissing the keloid scarring that distorts one eye and twists half her mouth, that constant reminder that she is shackled to him forever.
She smiles and deftly moves out of his arms. “Go sit down and I’ll get the food,” she says in an overly sweet voice that sounds saccharine to her but that gives him the impression that she’s happy. Sam kept getting upset until she learned to speak in this sweet and cheerful tone. She isn’t sure why sounding like a Disney Princess is so important to Sam, but if it will keep him from attacking her again, she’ll speak the way he wants.
Sometimes, she uses her real voice—not an imitation of Princess Aurora singing to the birds, but a strong alto. But never when Sam’s around. The last thing that Sam wants her to be is real.
Listen to me! I’m not changing my mind!
She gazes at Sam, his pack and the Swan girl as they all scarf down a month’s worth of groceries. She doesn’t know why Sam and the pack can’t hunt rabbits or voles instead of eating everything. God alone knows where she’s going to get the money to buy more food. She’s on partial disability, but that’s barely enough to keep one person alive, let alone two. Food banks only supply so much per month, and she’s already used up all the food stamps; there won’t be any for another six weeks.
It’s just another claw to the face—a way of saying, “My need to look generous is more important than your need to eat.”
As she passes around the muffins, she wishes that she dared to poison Sam.
He’s a werewolf, though. He can heal from virtually every wound; even a blow from a stone vampire wouldn’t necessarily kill him. She’d probably have to dump several tons of poison into his food before he even felt so much as nauseated. And she’s not strong enough to swing an axe and decapitate him in one blow.
And if he woke up for a second and realized who his killer was...well. She’s never been sure how strong the pack’s telepathy is; she’s not one of them, and they don’t discuss pack business with outsiders. But she thinks that it exists even when they’re in human form. One dying thought from Sam that she was his killer and the whole pack could know.
She doubts if they would be merciful enough to kill her.
Things could be worse. Much worse.
That’s why she stays with her mutilator, after all. Not because she loves him—how the hell could she love a bastard who did this to her?—but because, as the claw marks on her face attest, he will never let her go.
If she did run, he would track her down--werewolves are designed for tracking, after all--and would punish her. He act appalled later, of course. But he would not be horrified enough to consider freeing her. Not his possession. Not his trophy.
So she plays the game--that of being in love with her captor and mutilator, and striving to be so convincing that even Leah will believe that she loves Sam Uley to desperation.
It’s an Oscar-winning performance delivered daily.
She’s very tired of being eternally onstage.
She’s even more tired of people—the Swan girl here, for example—gazing at her enviously as if this abortion of a relationship is true love.
They don’t see the kind man that Sam was when he was Leah’s fiancé.
They don’t see the confident woman who could tell abusive bastards “NO” and know that it would end there.
They don’t see either of those people, because imprinting killed them both.
She wants to take the girl by the shoulders and shake her, telling her to realize kisses and words don’t equal love.
But she doesn’t. For one thing, Sam is here. She cannot break cover in front of him.
And for another, the girl wouldn’t listen.
No one ever listens.
Author:
gehayiFandom(s): New Moon
Rating: R
Word Count: 755
Summary: Emily has a very good reason for pretending to love Sam Uley
Chapter Inspiration: Chapter 14 – Family
Warning: Physical and emotional abuse
Author’s Note: Written as a way to make Emily a little more sympathetic and puts a very disturbing spin (like it wasn’t disturbing enough already) on the Sam/Emily relationship.
***
Listen to me, Sam.
The first thing Sam does when he comes home is kiss her scars.
Emily loathes this, for the scars are his handiwork. To her, this is self-congratulation. He’d claim he’s saying I love you despite your disfigurement. He wouldn’t see that isn’t an improvement...for that states that an ugly woman can never receive more than a watered-down version of love, a Goodwill donation for the undeserving.
Sam would swear that he doesn’t think that way. But he still keeps kissing the keloid scarring that distorts one eye and twists half her mouth, that constant reminder that she is shackled to him forever.
She smiles and deftly moves out of his arms. “Go sit down and I’ll get the food,” she says in an overly sweet voice that sounds saccharine to her but that gives him the impression that she’s happy. Sam kept getting upset until she learned to speak in this sweet and cheerful tone. She isn’t sure why sounding like a Disney Princess is so important to Sam, but if it will keep him from attacking her again, she’ll speak the way he wants.
Sometimes, she uses her real voice—not an imitation of Princess Aurora singing to the birds, but a strong alto. But never when Sam’s around. The last thing that Sam wants her to be is real.
Listen to me! I’m not changing my mind!
She gazes at Sam, his pack and the Swan girl as they all scarf down a month’s worth of groceries. She doesn’t know why Sam and the pack can’t hunt rabbits or voles instead of eating everything. God alone knows where she’s going to get the money to buy more food. She’s on partial disability, but that’s barely enough to keep one person alive, let alone two. Food banks only supply so much per month, and she’s already used up all the food stamps; there won’t be any for another six weeks.
It’s just another claw to the face—a way of saying, “My need to look generous is more important than your need to eat.”
As she passes around the muffins, she wishes that she dared to poison Sam.
He’s a werewolf, though. He can heal from virtually every wound; even a blow from a stone vampire wouldn’t necessarily kill him. She’d probably have to dump several tons of poison into his food before he even felt so much as nauseated. And she’s not strong enough to swing an axe and decapitate him in one blow.
And if he woke up for a second and realized who his killer was...well. She’s never been sure how strong the pack’s telepathy is; she’s not one of them, and they don’t discuss pack business with outsiders. But she thinks that it exists even when they’re in human form. One dying thought from Sam that she was his killer and the whole pack could know.
She doubts if they would be merciful enough to kill her.
Things could be worse. Much worse.
That’s why she stays with her mutilator, after all. Not because she loves him—how the hell could she love a bastard who did this to her?—but because, as the claw marks on her face attest, he will never let her go.
If she did run, he would track her down--werewolves are designed for tracking, after all--and would punish her. He act appalled later, of course. But he would not be horrified enough to consider freeing her. Not his possession. Not his trophy.
So she plays the game--that of being in love with her captor and mutilator, and striving to be so convincing that even Leah will believe that she loves Sam Uley to desperation.
It’s an Oscar-winning performance delivered daily.
She’s very tired of being eternally onstage.
She’s even more tired of people—the Swan girl here, for example—gazing at her enviously as if this abortion of a relationship is true love.
They don’t see the kind man that Sam was when he was Leah’s fiancé.
They don’t see the confident woman who could tell abusive bastards “NO” and know that it would end there.
They don’t see either of those people, because imprinting killed them both.
She wants to take the girl by the shoulders and shake her, telling her to realize kisses and words don’t equal love.
But she doesn’t. For one thing, Sam is here. She cannot break cover in front of him.
And for another, the girl wouldn’t listen.
No one ever listens.
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no subject
Date: 2011-01-29 03:49 pm (UTC)I really like your spitefics and your style.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-29 06:54 pm (UTC)I think that unreliable narrators are going to have to go the way of the dodo. I've noticed that even when a character is saying one thing and doing another on a regular basis, the vast majority of the public doesn't seem to recognize the dissonance. This is the main character...so why would the character lie? This is especially true when the main character labels someone or something "good." Readers trust the label, and don't bother to think beyond that.
All of which is very depressing, but might explain why some people think that Sam Uley/Emily Young is all that and a bag of chips. Bella says it is, after all.
And thank you! I'm enormously flattered. And I love your icon, by the way.
no subject
Date: 2011-01-29 08:31 pm (UTC)I can understand that with teenagers. They don't really have an idea of what a real, loving and healthy relationship is. Nor are they perfectly trained in critical thinking. But what about the older ones? Those who seem kind of mature, but still eat this all up and won't change their minds no matter what you say? I just don't get it.
Thanks! My icon is from Ever After, my all time favourite when it comes to romances.
no subject
Date: 2011-03-29 02:17 am (UTC)