The Real Story -- Queen Jossie

The Real Story
By Queen Jossie
4/27/00

A brief look into the life of Tom, Jane's boyfriend. Written in 45 minutes, I hope it makes
sense.

---------------------------The Real Story------------------------------
INT. Dark Bedroom
A desk is sitting in a corner of the dark room, it's light keeping a seemingly ominous room
looking comfy. At the desk sits a young man, tapping away at his computer. He turns his head
slightly to get a notebook, only to see that the young man is "young Tom".

Tom is hunched over in his chair, pencil in mouth, flipping through pages in a notebook.
Frantically, he types something down, then consults the notebook further. His eyes come across
a certain page, and he sighs, dropping the pencil. It's a note.

Tom sat back and sighed again. Jane had given him the third degree after what happened
Homecoming night. And Tom had easy answers to give. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He just
bonded with Daria. Daria. That was a subject still fresh in mind. Should he have made the
second cape comment? And what was that look for?

Exhausted from the analysis, Tom saved the document, shut off the computer, and went downstairs.

He walked past a living room, similarly arranged to Daria's, with his parents seated next to
each other. He ended up in a kitchen, grabbed a glass of milk and couple cookies.

Samantha: Hey honey. Done with that psych paper yet?

Tom: Nah, taking a break.

James: You will get it done, right?

Tom: (slightly peeved) Yes, dad.

James: Great. We don't need any other slackers in this house.

Tom: (to himself) Here we go again....

James: After the way your sister gave up, I wouldn't be surprised if you did the same thing...

Tom: Dad, really, I've heard the story....

Samantha: Yeah, hon. Tom even tried to get Lori to stop, but...

James: No child of mine is going to fail...

Tom: (quietly) No kidding. (aloud) I'll be upstairs.

Tom walks up the stairs again. Camera stays with Mom and Dad.

Samantha: Tom, must you always bring up Lori? You know that it upsets him.

James: Good. Less chance of him doing the same.

Samantha: (annoyed) James....

Tom sits at his desk, trying to type some more. But he keeps stopping. Finally, he rolls back
his chair to his bed and gets off. On the bed, he reaches beneath and pulls out a box.
Carefully, he opens it.

Inside are a few notes from Jane, a skeleton key, a copy of "The Love Story of J. Alfred
Prufrock," by T.S. Eliot, a couple of ticket stubs, and three pictures. One is a young Tom on
a bicycle without training wheels. One is of a group of guys, most likely Cub Scouts, huddled
around a campfire. And the last of two children. A young Tom, and a young Lorelei. Tom wore his
signature smirk, whereas Lorelei looked melancholy. Lorelei had long blond hair, like her mom,
and wore it in two braids. Her green eyes showed remorse, but she kept her arms tightly around
her brother, as if she was his keeper. The picture became blurry, Tom was crying.

A quiet rap at the door explained that Mom was at the door.

Tom: Come in.

Samantha walked in the door slowly and went to her son, her baby. She smoothed his scruffy hair
and laid her hand on his shoulder.

Tom: He thinks I'll be like her...

Samantha: No, he's afraid that you would.

Tom: But..

Samantha: I know. You'd never do that. It's not in your nature. She had seen the horror of real
life and couldn't take it. That's why she had to leave.

Tom: I'm sure having dad pick at her didn't help either.

Samantha: Give him credit. He's had a hard life, too. After seeing Uncle Rob go to pieces like
he did, he's afraid he'll do the same.

Tom: That's hard to believe.

Dad had always been a stern character. Never showing emotion, rarely smiling, making sure his
kids grew up right. But when Lorelei had won the art competition, boy did he shine. So proud of
his little girl. And when Rob died, Tom saw another side of his father, the feeling side. Though
his dad didn't cry, Tom was sure that the noise when they went to bed that night was his dad.
The noise scared young Tom so much that just thinking of the night makes him shudder.

And Lorelei, she was the closest to Uncle Rob. After his death, she cut her beautiful hair and
dyed it red. Everything seemed to make sense to her, but it was too much for her to handle. She
quit going to class, started smoking, got a tat.

After all the crap Dad gave her, it was only natural for her to move out. She had left the
innocent life behind, and went full fledged into the harsh realm. Tom remembered that day all
too well. The yelling, the door slamming, and the final goodbye. Tom hadn't heard from Lori in
nearly 3 years, but she always sent him letters under a pseudonym.

Samantha: I always did love that picture.

Tom shoved the pictures back into the box and chucked it under his bed.

Samantha: What did you do THAT for?

Tom: (smirking slightly) There are SOME things that you don't need to see.

Samantha: That's what I thought. I'm going to start supper in a little bit. Do you want me to
call you down?

Tom: (sighs) Yeah. Food will definitley restart my brain. (bt) By the way, what are we having?

Samantha: Your favorite: Lasangne!

Tom smiled and watched her mother leave.

That night Tom finished his paper, after eating a large helping of lasagne. He turned off his
light, leaving the light of computer monitor to brighten the room. Tom walked by in a tee shirt
and pajama pants, bending over to pick up the note Jane left him. He tossed it on top of his
books and gazed at the monitor. The background image was the painting that Lorelei had done: a
portrait of a baby Tom, lying in a crib, embracing a stuffed Garfield.

Smiling, he shut down the computer.

-----------------------------------Fin---------------------------------

I hope you liked my story. It kind of tied in with "A Short Fic," that I wrote after seeing "I
Loathe A Parade." Or at least it will tie into it, once I give Jane's point of view. All
feedback is needed and read, and will be greatly appreciated. Thanks!