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Feb. 23rd, 2003 12:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kbkI saw the Ring... It was much crapper than the Japanese version. And everyone except the father was prettier in the Japanese one too. The American father was quite pretty. Anyway... fic
Story name: Sharing
Author name: kbk
Author email: killedbykindness@hotmail.com
Author site: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi2/kbk
Medium: Ring/Ringu
Summary: Samara in the white room. 200 words.
Rating: PG
Samara sat on her bed and looked into the almost-mirror wall that split the white room in half. “I don’t like you,” she said petulantly. “Why aren’t you nice to me?”
She glared through her hair at the other girl, trying to see through the two curtains of black hair to the veiled eyes which, she was sure, would mirror her own. “Why aren’t I hurting you?” she cried. “I hurt everyone, but not you!”
Samara stood, almost surprised when the girl in the mirror didn’t, and moved almost to the centre of the room. “Mommy threw me down the well and Daddy only loved his horses,” she whined, fisting her hands in the white fabric that passed for a dress.
“Why don’t you answer?” she asked. “I hate you!” she shrieked, and ran to the other girl, intending to pull her hair away and bring her face into the harsh flourescent light. A small hand reached out to her and wrapped around her wrist.
She stopped, and complained, “I can’t sleep. I never sleep.” She tilted her head winsomely, peeking out through her hair. “Maybe if I wasn’t alone? Please. Let me share your bed,” she wheedled.
“Please, Sadako.”
Story name: Sharing
Author name: kbk
Author email: killedbykindness@hotmail.com
Author site: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi2/kbk
Medium: Ring/Ringu
Summary: Samara in the white room. 200 words.
Rating: PG
Samara sat on her bed and looked into the almost-mirror wall that split the white room in half. “I don’t like you,” she said petulantly. “Why aren’t you nice to me?”
She glared through her hair at the other girl, trying to see through the two curtains of black hair to the veiled eyes which, she was sure, would mirror her own. “Why aren’t I hurting you?” she cried. “I hurt everyone, but not you!”
Samara stood, almost surprised when the girl in the mirror didn’t, and moved almost to the centre of the room. “Mommy threw me down the well and Daddy only loved his horses,” she whined, fisting her hands in the white fabric that passed for a dress.
“Why don’t you answer?” she asked. “I hate you!” she shrieked, and ran to the other girl, intending to pull her hair away and bring her face into the harsh flourescent light. A small hand reached out to her and wrapped around her wrist.
She stopped, and complained, “I can’t sleep. I never sleep.” She tilted her head winsomely, peeking out through her hair. “Maybe if I wasn’t alone? Please. Let me share your bed,” she wheedled.
“Please, Sadako.”
