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"La, lala, lalalala.
Mm, mm mm, mm mm mm mm mm mm."
Swish, swish. Squeak, splash.
"In my life,
I've always felt something,
Was meant,
To be."
Scrub scrub. Splash splash.
"Something was meant to be greater.
I was meant to be wiser than my years."
Squeak squeak. Rub rub.
"When will I see?
See the power,
Lying right in front of me?
I've been waiting.
Oh, I've been waiting."
SPLASH!
"Because, when is it my turn,
To finally shine?
I know I'm meant for something better,
Than washing clothes,
And scrubbing dishes,"
Scrap scrap. Grind grind.
"I feel it,
Waiting for me there.
I just have to touch it."
Clatter, clatter. Shift shift.
"I just have to reach it..."
"MARIANNA. WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG?"
"Uh, oh! Coming, mother!"
Placing the dishes down, the young girl sped off, A soft tune in her heart.
Outside, a young man removes his hat. Blue eyes sparkle immensly in the blazing Georgian sun. He smiles, placing the name, "Marianna," into his memory, as well as the soft, albeit beautiful, voice.
He closes his eyes in satisfaction. Found it.
-
As a servant, no one pays any heed to Marianna Gills. She's short, she's tan, and most of all, she has very dark brown eyes: only light, watery blue was recognized. Brown eyes were the worst kind of color.
But in a time where the noble women were pale as ghosts, and the workers of society were tanned beyond all help, Marianna was determined to succeed in life. Not as a farmer, or as a farm wife, like her parents hoped, but a singer.
Marianna's voice was practically made of gold, and diamonds for a fifteen year old. But being soft spoken, overly-polite, and unable to defend herself, she is often pushed around. She doesn't mind, but she has taken note of the fact she will get no where without pushing her way through. Yet she hasn't done anything to stop it.
Jamie York was a young man traveling the country in search for business. The first time he ever heard Marianna was in a church, and for him, her brown eyes stood out amougst the crowd. Maybe it was her hair tied up in a proper high ponytail, or even her coffee-colored skin, but he knew he had found his calling: music.
Follow Jamie, as he transforms a quiet, small town girl into a singing sensation, and transforms the way the States looked at girl like her... forever.
A/N: Basically, she's an African American in Georgia, sometime in the 1960s. I kept the, "pale equals rich," theory to keep the drama, I guess. He's white, and he's rich. I know she's not the first one, (definitely not) but I'm trying to make her the first nationally loved African American singer for the sake of a plot.
 Ukeire · Wed May 27, 2009 @ 10:47pm · 0 Comments |
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