If you asked everyone what they thought of Mary Sue, they would roll their eyes and scoff, "That girl! I don't believe there was ever so arrogant and self absorbed a person. She's frolicking about the town, with a skip in her step and smile on her face one minute, and the next she talks herself blue in the face about the tragic life she fancies she has...and those eyes! She has those sickening, lost-puppy eyes that she stares at you with while prattling about her tragic, devastating life. Spoiled brat, that's what I think of her!"

Of course, none of that occurred to Mary Sue. As far as she was concerned, everyone with a heart would love her, and anyone who didn't worship her was absolutely brutal to her. It would break her delicate heart if she knew that people who put up with her said all this behind her. As a matter of fact, even the slightest criticism to her self-perceived perfection would irk her. Now, when she would perform a task, she would smile and ask, "I hope this is good for you," and everyone would just give her an awkward smile and continue their way, no matter how horribly she's done in her task. They knew better than to give her their harsh, unkind criticism and risk making her cry.

So, back to our story: once upon a time, there was a girl called Mary Sue. This girl thought herself rather beautiful and intelligent, even though she was really rather commonplace. She thinks herself a mighty fine specimen, with all the finest clothes and loyal friends. She thought of her life as such a tragic romance, because every time a man is civil with her, helps her out, or has a conversation with her, her heart is all a-flutter with the fancy that she was simply so beautiful that no man could resist her, that she was so tragically beautiful, she brought out the Prince Charming in every man, and she would sigh deeply in morose pity at the thought of having to reject a few of her imagined suitors (who would be more relieved than heartbroken, honestly).

As far as abilities, she fancies that she has mastered every skill that she has ever heard simply by observing those who actually practiced it. She would wake up as early as she can, and watch the archers as they practiced, gazing dreamily at the handsome men and daydream about one of the men becoming her suitor, come to rescue her from the dreary dungeon that is her ordinary, mundane life and make her his queen. Mind you, she is still vigilantly studying the skill of archery. She would walk by the docks on a lazy, warm afternoon, observe the different ships. She would flutter her eyelashes at any old sailor or fisherman, whoever stood by the boat, convinced it would charm them into doing her the favor of exploring the ship itself. The kind, bewildered man would allow her to investigate the boat, meet the sailors, and get acquainted with every nook and cranny of the boat. When they gave her maps and instruments and demonstrated how they work, she would watch, and look intent and fascinated: her eyes would be wide in rapture, her lips would be puckered in a silent, demure "Oh!" and eager nods at random intervals. Despite it being an educational experience, that part was over quickly, and for the rest of the afternoon after 'studying marine navigation', she would rather gaze off into the sea, in the far distance, and think of the many adventures she fancied having at sea- being the best navigator, swimmer, fighter; so brilliant, in fact, the sailors would be eager to make her a captain. Oh, the missions they would undertake! How excellently she would accomplish them! Why, on several occasions she would risk her life diving off the side of the ship, swimming as best as she can in the middle of a raging, tempest thunderstorm to save a sailor overboard, and he would fall so deeply in love with her he would swear to marry her as soon as they land. Oh yes, she has learned to swim too! In her opinion, she was the fastest swimmer in her town, and she convinced that if she could swim for ten meters in a bathing pool that was two meters in depth, she could absolutely swim across the English Channel. According to her calculations, she figured if she could swim at the same pace as the ships, she should finish in approximately five hours (If she has studied her 'marine navigation' well, she would have known it would take five days). When she lands, she fancies she will fall in love with one of the men she will meet on the shores to rescue her, and he will sweep her up into the romance, the culture, the exquisite cuisine and the magic that is France. Oh, the excitement of it all! She has even taken to learning French for this occasion, practicing her demure, dainty gaze in the mirror as she says this phrase, "Bonjour, monsieur! Je m'appelle Mary Sue. Je suis récemment arrivé à cet locale étrange et beau, mais je n'ai pas des amis ici, je ne connais pas des personnes ici. Pouvez-vous m'aider?" with a sweet, shy smile in front of the mirror she has practiced for longer than she has her French in preparation for the swim across the English channel.

Mary Sue was a rather average girl, and so was her family. She had a father who worked as a government official, and her mother was a home-maker. In Mary Sue's opinion, government officials, public officials and everyone serving the government are only keeping the poor people poorer, the rich people richer, lying to them about their own country and denying them their freedom. Now, the father is an official in the 'Parks and Recreation' sector of the government, so one could imagine there is little to corrupt to keep the people poor. However, in Mary Sue's conceited little mind, all officials are one and the same.

One night, her father has had a rather busy day at work, and he would much like a nice warm meal and a quiet family gathering without having to discuss work. So, they all sat at the table and had their lunch: all, however, except for Mary Sue. She took a single sip of her carrot soup and put her hands on her lap. Looking as though she was about to cry, she tragically stares outside the window off into the distance, fluttering her eyelashes and pursing her lips, like the perfect picture of martyrdom she is.

As she kept doing this, her mother caught sight of her mournful, despairing look. She looked down and focused on the helping of potatoes she was about to give the father, resisting the urge to shake her head.

When the mother's served her own plate, and sat down to eat, her daughter let out this long, exasperated sigh. Mother and father looked across the table, about to ask her what the matter was today, but she gave them a bittersweet smile and told them nothing was the matter: they may finish their meals.

Uneasily, they resumed eating. Before long, Mary Sue let out yet another tragic sigh, and looked out the window where the living room over-looked the sea. Mother put down her fork.

"Must we deal with your sighing and dramatics every meal, Mary Sue?" The mother sighed, clearly weary of her behavior. "We would like to have a quiet meal, today, please, your father is quite tired today from work. Please keep your foolishness to yourself today."

Mary Sue looked back at them and fluttered her eyelashes, looking surprised. Smiling gently, she said in a melodramatic tone, "No matter: my mind was just wandering." She looked out to the sea. "Look at all this ocean," she whispered, loud enough for her parents to hear, "To think of all the fish are swimming freely in the sea...oh my! They must have no rules, no regulations, and no government! Yes, that's how I would like to live: like a fish, free in the seven seas."

The poor father put his head in his hands and sighed. Mary Sue saw this as an opportunity to begin yet another argument on the government's constant need to dominate everything in existence that is tangible to them.

"I'm sorry, father, does freedom pose an issue of power and control on your government?"

The father, rubbing his temples, looked up at the ceiling, possibly praying to the Lord to have mercy on him tonight. Seeing as her father has yet to respond, she continued,

"Does it never bother you that while you are at work, there are people in the streets in debt, poor, sick children everywhere, and only because your government kept them there?"

"Princess, I'm so sorry to disappoint you. I do not work for any of the sectors you need to complain to." He took a deep breath. "Can we deal with this after this meal...?"

"No thank you," said Mary Sue, with the conviction of a missionary. "There are issues that can no longer be dealt with a later date. These are issues we need to deal with immediately!"

"Really, Mary Sue, do you think that with all the arguments we've had over dinners, this would actually help-" Mother faltered, seeing Mary Sue's fierce glare. Sighing, she gave up. "I'll be in the kitchen, if anyone else needs their dishes done." She knew better than to get in an argument with such a difficult child.

Satisfied, Mary Sue turned back to her father. "Now, don't you agree that there are poverty issues that need to be dealt with as quickly as possible?"

The father shrugged. "I do agree, my little angel..."

"Then why are you doing nothing about it? Father, why are you so cruel to all those people?"

"B-b-but I can't do anything about if I wanted to! Darling, don't be so upset, you know how I hate to see you upset..."

"You don't mean that! Don't you know I care about the poor? Don't you already know that I care about free speech? Don't you know that it makes me sad when the government oppresses their freedom of speech?" Mary Sue sighed dejectedly. "I never knew you had so much hatred inside you, father."

Her father came up beside her and stroked her hair. "Mary Sue, I do care. Honest, I-i do. I have a suggestion to make: why don't you write the bureaucrats a letter explaining to them your cause?"

Mary Sue turned to give her father a hurt, injured look. "But father, I don't know who to write to in person! And what would I write them for? So they can imprison me? So they can torture and prosecute me for rebelling against them? So they can fire you and kick me, you and mother out in the streets?"

The father shook his head. "I'm sure that they respect every letter they get concerning the well-being of their citizens. Besides, I'm sure they would not torture and imprison you for caring for freedom of speech."

Mary Sue stood up to face her father. "Do they?" she hissed at her father. "Do they know how it feels to see the impoverished, the dejected and the starving in the streets? It makes me want to cry!" She turned away to wipe her tears. Her father, once again, tried to comfort her, but she flinched, crying:

"Oh, you who have no heart! I lament the day I was born unto this family! This cruel, unfeeling family with no regards to the poor other than my own! Leave me be!"

Mary Sue's mother saw her run out of the dining hall and up the stairs in frantic, dramatic tears. She knew better than to go up to her daughter's room and talk to her. She decided that it was no longer worth the headache to bother.

The mother sighed. If only she wouldn't be so dramatic at the table! Every evening it's the same: she would pout and sulk and sigh until someone asked her what the matter was, and she would spend the rest of the evening moaning, whining and sighing about her father's job in the government, badgering him with guilt-inducing questions about his conscience when he does his job. Not an evening goes by without this argument, and it always ends with her father being emotionally exhausted and Mary Sue dramatically throwing herself on her bed, cursing the day she was born to this morally corrupt family.


*"Bonjour, monsieur! Je m'appelle Mary Sue. Je suis récemment arrivé à cet locale étrange et beau, mais j'ai pas des amis ici, je ne connais pas des personnes ici. Pouvez-vous m'aider?" translates to the following:

"Good day, sir! My name is Mary Sue. I have just arrived in this strange, beautiful place, yet I have no friends here, I know no one here. Will you please help me?"

Okay, so this is my first writing project. Yay or nay? If you liked it, please say so, if you didn't, please say why. I do hope you enjoyed reading this, though. ^_^