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ohnohetaliasues · 1 year

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Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 10}

(Kat)

Here we go again. I am still alive and actually still active on tumblr, but I mostly do writing and fanfiction now. I still enjoy the occasional fic review, though.

If I have to read Abbi and James going any further than kissing I’m going to need either a brain transplant or a lobotomy, whichever makes me forget faster.

But I know they will. I know they will and I will have to read it with my two eyes and you will be able to read my suffering. I will put a warning when that chapter comes around in case any of you want to skip it. I honestly wouldn’t blame you.

Let’s get into it.

The next morning I was surprised Davis didn’t leap up to greet me as I walked on the bus with Abbi. We sat across from him but he just looked out his window, surrounding himself in a silent gloom while paying us no attention.

I mean, there’s the chance he’s traumatized. He did just survive a shooting.

“Hey Davis, how are you today?” I asked.

Davis replied without turning towards me, “Why don’t you have a car? You’re 17, only losers like me ride the bus.”

Well, that’s a rather rude way of responding to a friend asking you how you are.

Abbi gave me a look of concern.

As she should.

Though Abbi didn’t know Davis too well yet, she understood him to be a happier person; neither of us expected Davis to say something so negative.

I responded to Davis, “Not everyone has a white picket fence life Davis, some people have to ride the bus.”

I hate the way the dialogue tags are written before the actual fucking dialogue. It’s so irritating to read and it is nOT HOW YOU WRITE DIALOGUE.

Davis turned angrily and spoke as he pierced me with the most intense glare I had ever seen, “You don’t think I know that? You should get a job! Buy your own car! What are you even doing with your life?”

In case you forgot, Davis, teenagers usually don’t have everything figured out. As much as I hate James, there’s no reason for him to be attacked for something as completely fucking mundane as riding the school bus.

I sat back, giving up on changing his mood and thought to myself “Happiness, as far as I care, can’t be acquired through any means if love is not involved.”

If I got a job on top of school, I’d have barely any time to spend with Abbi.

She now apparently lives with you, plus you go to school with her. You’ll see her plenty.

I needed her more than anything and I thought Davis knew this.

Broski, he probably needs you, too.

He’s supposed to James’ best friend, but all James cares about is Abbi and I imagine Davis is probably annoyed and hurt that James is only paying attention to his girlfriend and not making time for his best friend after something like this happened.

Or Onion wants to create drama, and making Davis angry for some reason is the most low effort way of doing so. My money is on that since I don’t think that man is capable of intelligent, complex thoughts, nor is he capable of any kind of decent storytelling.

Davis was probably just upset over everything that had happened recently and this was his way of coping.

It’s honestly more concerning that James isn’t as affected by the shooting. Davis is reacting in a normal way to a massive, traumatizing, and tragic event. All James cares about is the girl in his bed.

Trying to close the conversation on a less negative note I said, “Well buddy, I’m here if you need me!” with the same tone he always used on me.

No, you’re not.

He rolled his eyes, scoffed and scooted closer to his window. Abbi remained next to me, running her fingers over the hairs on my hand. It was such a positive distraction.

Why is she doing that instead of just holding his hand? That’s not a thing I’ve ever heard of someone doing. Did Onion forget that sometimes people hold hands and like, run their fingers over the person they’re holding hands with’s knuckles?

Later that morning I found myself in my History class staring at a very nervous Mr. Hanson.

“You all realize the President of the United freaking States is going to be here right?” he asked the class.

Okay, two things.

That was actually formatted how a quotation should, but that’s probably not going to stick.

Secondly, WHAT?!

I think this was released in like, 2015 or so, meaning that was Obama, so does this just make this book a very elaborate ‘Obama was there’ meme? I will choose to look at it that way since that makes it a minuscule amount less insufferable.

I know that the President sometimes goes to schools to speak. President Obama once just arrived at a DC high school. He just casually strolled into a classroom, like the legend he is. I guess it makes sense for him to show up to speak in the wake of a tragedy like this, but it was just so fucking jarring that this was announced the day it was happening instead of, I dunno, days in advance like how planning usually works?

Whoever planned this needs to be fired.

Most the students looked confused, as we were not briefed when exactly we would see him.

Why? Why not?

A voice erupted as our classroom door was swiftly pushed open.

“The President of the United freaking States is about to arrive ladies and gentlemen,” said a large man wearing a black suit.

This is all happening so fast I don’t even know what to say.

Mr. Hanson laughed nervously over the fact that, what we soon realized was a member of the Secret Service, had overheard him.

Thanks for that unnecessary comma after ‘Secret Service.’ Also, that whole sentence in general was just a fucking mess.

It should be written something like: “Mr. Hanson laughed nervously when he realized that someone had overheard him, and we later realized said person was a member of the Secret Service.”

See? The sentence structure is better, it reads easier, and it doesn’t make your brain hurt. But no, no editing allowed, no criticism, it’s against Onion laws.

Throw me in Onion Jail then, I guess.

Also, did the Secret Service member just announce the president arriving by saying “the President of the freaking United States,” like he’s surprised by the person he works for? Is he an idiot, or is he just constantly in awe of the President? My money is on both.

Edit: I realize he’s quoting Mr. Hanson, but I like my joke that I made and I’m keeping it there even if it’s stupid.

Mr. Hanson turned to the class and in a rushed tone said “Alright, think before you ask the President anything, no stupid questions!”

Ah, there goes the proper formatting of dialogue. We had a good run.

Another voice came from outside the door “You’re right Mr. Hanson, there are no stupid questions.”

Hello, Obama.

We all froze to see it was the President who had spoken.

As he walked in the room I quickly realized he was much taller than I had assumed from watching TV. The President centered himself in the room as the Secret Service asked Mr. Hanson to take a seat at his desk.

Four members of the USSS stood behind the President as he began to speak,

Why? It would make more sense for them to be stationed at the doors, but I’m not an expert on the US Secret Service so I really wouldn’t know. It just seems crowded as fuck to have four people standing behind you while standing in an already not very large classroom, but I digress.

“I’m not here to bring a dark cloud into this room. I want to be uplifting, to be helpful, and I want all of you to feel like you can say whatever you like, without any fear of criticism or repercussion”

There is no period at the end of that sentence.

Chris Jenkins, the class clown, blurted out “Why are you such a D-Bag?”

Um.

I have met stupid people. But I don’t think I’ve met anyone that stupid.

Actually, that’s a lie, there were some massive dumbasses I went to high school with. And, truthfully, who I go to college with, currently.

Most everyone in the class sat in shock as Mr. Hanson violently lurched up like a frantic animal yelling in a high-pitched tone “Chris! How dare you disrespect the...”

If I have to read the words ‘most everyone’ again I am going to have a fucking conniption. I don’t think Onion ever passed high school English class. Hell, I don’t think he passed middle school English.

He has the IQ of a fucking life raft, though, so nobody is surprised by that.

If you’ll allow me to go into a writer rant here for a second, I’ll tell you why this is wrong. ‘Most everyone’ is not proper grammar. The word ‘most’ means the greatest part of something, as all of you undoubtedly know, so ‘most everyone’ means the greatest part of everyone here. What greatest part are you talking about? Their heads and torsos? Their legs and torsos?

While people do use it, it sounds fucking wrong. Like, if you replace it with ‘almost everyone’ it works and sounds normal, but ‘most everyone’ sounds fucking stupid.

“Mr. Hanson.” the President interrupted, “Thank you.”

A USSS member then asked Mr. Hanson to return to his seat.

The dialogue formatting is making me so goddamn mad that I have to correct it because it’s such a headache to read. I leave the dialogue tags as they are, because that means I can make fun of them, but I cannot read something where there are no fucking paragraph breaks when somebody speaks.

DOES THIS MAN NOT KNOW THE BASIC RULES OF WRITING DIALOGUE? NO. HE JUST DECIDED TO WRITE A BOOK WITHOUT PRACTICING AND PUBLISHED HIS FIRST DRAFT.

There is nothing more impersonal that critiquing someone’s grammar, but even when fans offered to help correct spelling and grammar, Onion refused. So, like a moron, he released the book unedited. Or he let his partner edit it. I don’t know, they didn’t do a very good job if that’s the case.

The President walked over to Chris, pulling his own pants slightly back so he could crouch.

Why the fuck does he feel the need to crouch?

“Now you may feel I am what you said, a D-Bag, but you should know to address me as President D-Bag as I, and many Americans, believe I earned the title of President.”

Uh. Okay.

Sick burn, I guess?

Chris, now shaking and not knowing what to say let out a nervous and horribly awkward chuckle.

Why is he shaking? It’s not like the President threatened him.

The President smiled and returned to the front of the room as he said “Now what other questions do you all have for me?”

Literally everyone in class aside from Chris raised their hand.

‘Literally everyone’ is a nice change from ‘most everyone.’

Y’know, because it fucking makes sense.

Also, why the fuck is he taking questions instead of making a speech about the shooting, or saying what his response plan will be for gun violence so these kids don’t have to be afraid? Nah, he just pulls up like ‘so who wants to ask me a question?’ Like this is a Reddit AMA.

The President looked directly at me and said “James Patrick, the boy who nearly saved the day, what is your question?”

Nearly saved the day? James didn’t do shit. All he did was run around looking for Abbi, he didn’t save anyone’s lives. The incessant praise James receives for doing absolutely fucking nothing is baffling.

I replied, “You know who I am?”

He responded, “I’ve read up on this school and the recent events quite a bit. How are your feet healing up?”

Why would some random ass dude who got glass in his feet be in any kind of official report? Sure, his name would be among the survivors and witnesses, but he didn’t really do anything of note. This is absolute bullshit.

I was overwhelmed but I had to keep it together so I quickly replied, “Really well actually, the ambulance guys did an amazing job getting the glass and dirt out.”

You mean the EMTs? The paramedics? They have a technical name. This makes it seem like Onion forgot what they were called and just didn’t bother to google it.

Which, honestly, is probably what happened.

The President followed with “That’s wonderful to hear, what was your question?”

I replied, “I just wanted to know how you feel about the things people call you, in the news and around the world.”

Completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, but okay.

The President gave a slightly sad smile and replied “I cannot, and do not want to control what people say about me.

Why? You wanna have a good approval rating, don’t you?

All I can really fully control is what I myself am saying and doing. I find myself repeatedly stating that I came into office with the best intentions, and I continue to lead as President with those very same intentions. Some decisions I have to make aren’t always fair to me, my family or many people around the world, but sometimes your only options lie between the end of a slipknot or the blade a guillotine, and that’s the burden I chose to carry.”

Why does this sound like something Trump would say?

Gross.

Also, ‘sometimes your only options lie between the end of a slipknot or the blade of a guillotine?’ That is an absolutely bonkers thing to say to a room full of high school students.

The class paused for a few seconds and then all at once everyone but Chris & myself raised their hands again.

Why— Why the ampersand? That’s not proper grammar. You do not use an ampersand to replace the word ‘and’ in a sentence in prose writing, the two are not interchangeable.

One of the USSS members spoke up “Mr. President we need to move on.”

He was there for like, two minutes. Why the hell is he going from class to class individually instead of just holding an assembly and speaking in front of the whole school?

The President lifted his hand and said to the class “I want you all to know there are going to be some major changes around your school. I’ve approved a budget shift that will help fund significant renovations and an effective security program that will promote a safer environment for everyone here.”

Uh. Great. Thanks. Better than thoughts and prayers, I suppose.

“I will not stand by and do nothing when these incidents occur. So I’m doing what any responsible person in my position would do to make you all feel safer in this learning environment.”

As much as I hate Onion, we apparently share the same views on restricting guns and gun laws. Not sure how I feel about that.

He then smiled as the USSS opened the door behind him. “Thank you all, and Chris, remember our talk, ok?”

The ‘President D-bag’ talk? That was not really a life lesson, it was just a thing that happened.

Also, Onion should be called President D-bag.

Chris remained speechless as the President walked out.

I relate.

Mr. Hanson then stood up while looking at Chris as if he had just slapped Mr. Hanson’s mother right in front of him. Mr. Hanson maintained his glare as he walked to the front of class.

Uh, I mean, he’d probably get a stern talking to. Even the idiots I went to high school were a bit less fucking brazen than calling the POTUS a douchebag.

Mr. Hanson sighed deeply and looked down at the floor, he then asked, “Did anyone else almost pass out?”

No, just you.

The class erupted with laughter as the teacher wiped sweat from his forehead with the towel he used as a white board eraser. The towel smeared ink all over his forehead, which made us all laugh even harder. Unfortunately I was faced with the reality that he would blame his humiliation on me if I did not tell him right away, as my next period still required I act as a Teachers’ Assistant for him.

Why the fuck would be blame James for that? James didn’t do anything.

The first thing Abbi said to me when I met with her later that day in gym class was “So it looks like Mrs. Stanley’s getting a new desk.”

I replied “The president?”

“Yep, he met with you guys too?”

I nodded and she added “In other news, Jason has been hitting on me, not sure what to do about it.”

Tell him to stop? I mean, easier said than done, but you could try that. Or you could break his arms, whichever comes first.

I replied concerned “Like just flirting, or is it heavy?”

She answered, “I think the whole saving our lives thing went to his head. He just grabbed my butt in class after the President left the room.”

I went silent.

Trying to reassure me she said “I yelled at him not do it again.”

Uh, good. Holy fuck. What a tool.

I replied, “Did you talk to the teacher?”

She answered “Mrs. Stanley saw I was uncomfortable and said she would give him detention if he tried to do it again.”

No, give him detention immediately, he fucking groped someone. Hell, suspend him.

I loved that she did everything I would have done, leaving no room for me to imagine potential alternatives to what she felt about Jason’s chauvinistic act.

She isn’t helpless without you, James. Fun fact, women are autonomous beings who can care for themselves. We’re cool like that.

I smiled slightly and said “Well, thank you for telling me...”

She interrupted “What about you? Any girls grabbing your butt these days?”

Interesting topic of conversation. I, too bond with my nonexistent significant other over ass grabbing.

I replied with a slight smile, “Nope, guess my butt just isn’t as good looking as yours.” She squealed and hugged me

Why is that her response?

as the substitute walked in and blew his whistle.

Oh I forgot they were in gym class.

“All right everyone let’s play some badminton!” the sub said, pronouncing everything as it was spelled.

Raymon responded “Don’t you mean bad-mitten?”

No.

Oh god, did he not read this out loud?

Badminton is often pronounced more like bad-mitten when spoken out loud, so—Why would the sub say it like that? You know what, nevermind.

Jesus Christ, these attempted jokes are exhausting.

The teacher replied “I didn’t Ray-man, is that ok with you?”

Now angered, he responded, “It’s Ray-mon!”

This is aggressively stupid.

The sub laughed and said “Alright everyone, do you want to see Ray-man vs. your sub in bad-min-ton?”

A lot of us screamed “Yeah!” and so the game ensued.

Raymon seemed to get hit with the birdie more than the actual racket did. We kept laughing because he was trying so hard to look cool but kept failing repeatedly and as a result, looked completely goofy.

I’m actually decent at badminton, and it’s honestly not very hard, so this guy is apparently just really uncoordinated.

After the teacher had scored on him for the 10th time Raymon threw down his racket.

The teacher loudly asked, “So is that game? No more bad-min-ton?”

Trying to sound tough Raymon screamed, “This is a sissy game anyway!”

Shut your face.

Someone watching yelled to everyone “Uh oh watch out he might try to shoot us too!”

Who the fuck would say that?

Why the fuck would you say that?

Like, holy fuck that is not okay on every level.

We all went silent; one girl jumped up and walked off in a hurry. I could see she was holding her cries in until she could get out of the room.

A valid response, Jesus Christ. The insensitive asshole who said the deserves a kick to the teeth.

Raymon angrily looked over at the person who made the comment. The individual who yelled put their head down.

In what fucking world would it be okay to make a joke like that after something like this happened? In the place it happened?

This person would be suspended. They’d be in huge trouble. Jesus Christ I hate this book more than any book I’ve ever read. This makes Blood Raining Night look like fucking Shakespeare. I had more fun reading My Immortal than I have had reading a single letter of this drivel. At least My Immortal doesn’t rely on shock and outrage to forward its (dubious) storyline, it’s just pure insanity. But at least it’s fun insanity.

This is just nihilistic, pretentious insanity.

They were obviously trying to avoid being pierced by Raymon’s glare. Raymon then furiously walked off, throwing a tantrum by kicking a garbage can while pulling off his shirt as he passed through the boys’ locker room entrance.

A VALID FUCKING RESPONSE.

“Alright everyone, pick a partner and start playing!” the teacher said just before following Raymon into the locker room.

Honestly, I’d worry if he was okay. In no way was the shooting Raymon’s fault, and I cannot fathom why that person said that to him. That last section was wholly unnecessary.

Naturally Abbi was on my team and we played against a couple of people who were equally unenthusiastic about the sport so we basically just stood around talking about how dorky our uniforms were and basically anything we could to keep our minds preoccupied.

Usually not what I talked about while playing badminton in high school PE, but to each their own, I suppose.

Later that night at dinner, we had to put together a makeshift chair for Rick as Abbi was still staying with us.

A makeshift chair??? What would that even look like? A bunch of pots stacked on top of each other? A stump cut from the back yard? Do they not have like, a folding chair or even a stool? Why the hell does he get a makeshift chair?

My mom began to talk about their move “So Rick let me know he’s happy to help cover your food, utilities etcetera while you stay here in the condo.” she said, Abbi and I looked at each other happily and hugged excited that it was confirmed. Abbi and I didn’t have to move anywhere.

Okay, let me get this straight.

James’ mom is just completely fine with her teenaged son living with his also teenaged girlfriend in a condo, alone, and is just chill with having her rich boyfriend who she has been dating for not nearly long enough pay for food and utilities? And said rich boyfriend is also fine with doing this?

She’s just… fine with this? In what goddamn world would any parent allow that? She deserves to have CPS called on her.

I’m going to walk into the goddamn ocean if this is just an excuse to get rid of adult supervision so these two idiots can have copious amounts of sex that I will then have to read with my two eyes.

My mom continued, “Your sister is going to come with us.”

I looked at my sister and asked, “What’s up sis?”

She just pushed food around on her plate and mumbled, “It’s whatever. I don’t want to talk about it.”

My mom gave me a look that I should just drop it, so I did.

Okay, why though? If we’re going by this logic, why isn’t his sister staying behind with them? She goes to the same school and is half way through her senior year, it would be stupid to rip her away from school so close to graduation.

I had a friend in high school whose father got a new job that sent the family to Hawaii, but she wanted to stay and finish high school, so she stayed with a friend for the school year. But the difference there is that she was staying with adults instead of alone in a house her parents paid for. She was a minor, and not an emancipated one, so she had to stay with a guardian by law. This whole thing makes absolutely zero fucking sense.

Abbi squeezed my hand; she was still smiling widely at me. I was pretty overwhelmed with what this all meant as well. One of the greatest pending burdens hovering over my head had been removed from my life completely. However ridiculous it sounds, knowing I could be separated from Abbi, to me, was the equivalent of a doctor telling me I might have cancer, only to reveal later, it was nothing. I felt like I was getting my life back, without ever really having it taken away in the first place.

Okay. I can put up with a lot without getting utterly furious, but that pisses me off. You do not get to compare almost having to move away from your girlfriend to a possible diagnosis of cancer. My mother just recently beat cancer, and the effect that this diagnosis had on my family when it was given was earth shattering. It was not even comparable to having to move away from a significant other. It was one of the hardest, most terrifying periods my family has ever been through, and it traumatized my sister, effecting her in ways that it didn’t affect me or my father. It was horrifying, all of it, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

Onion is an insensitive dickweed, and the fact that this comparison was even made is insulting. Having to leave a significant other is sad, sure, but it is not on the same level as a life changing diagnosis like fucking cancer. Don’t you dare make that comparison, you fucking ingrate.

Onision, fuck you. I hope you choke on your next meal, wherever you are.

Back to this stupid fucking trash book.

After dinner, Abbi and I cuddled in bed while listening to some of her favorite bands. She would sing along to the songs, knowing most the words, as I just kept my eyes closed, paying close attention to how her skin felt pressed against mine.

In that room alone with her, I often found myself feeling like nothing else mattered. She gave all my senses something to devour to the point where I began to feel like the rest of the world barely existed at all.

The level of obsession James has with her is not healthy. A person’s life should not merely revolve around their partner. At least, nobody mentally well and stable.

I fell asleep listening to the sound of her beautiful voice, softly singing.

Great. I love that this book has inspired rage among the bottomless void of utter apathy that I’ve been feeling thus far. Makes for an amazing and totally not draining reading experience.

Now, I have come to a very obvious conclusion. Onision, Greg, whatever you call yourself nowadays, I frankly don’t care. I don’t know if he’ll ever see this, and I don’t care about that either, because interacting with him sounds like an exhausting waste of time, but I need to say this anyway.

Onision Gregory James Jackson cannot write. He cannot create interesting characters or stories, and he uses topics that need to be handled with respect and care as plot devices. Abhorrently, he uses horrible, traumatic events as some sick form of character development, but these events that are supposed to cause character development cause none of the aforementioned at all. All of these characters are more static than a broken television, and have the same amount of flavor as a single slice of white bread. I also hate all of them. He has been given every opportunity to improve, but refuses criticism, one of the main things that helps a writer grow. I value criticism above all else as a writer, and without it and the practice at my craft, I would not be where I am today.

Also, Greggy-poo, if you do see this, you can’t get this review taken down. You can’t do shit. Because this is transformative content since it’s commentary. I am adding my own insight into this, and making it into something new, and it is therefore protected by fair use. And I’ll just keep on posting.

Whatever. I’ll see you later.

—Kat

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