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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Satire · #1610336
The harsh realities of a Reality TV Personality.
Shotting Star

Carrie Cognac was a notably forgettable person.  When she had been just a little girl her mother had taken her to meet her great aunt Selma and then forgotten her there.  Selma often forgot Carrie was in the house.  She forgot to buy Carrie clothing, so she just ended up wearing ill fitting clothes she'd found left behind, forgotten like her in the attic of the house.  Aunt Selma also often forgot to feed her, and Carrie kept herself fed by rifling through whatever was left in the cupboards and fridge, which generally wasn't much.

These were the dark years, when she was still Caridad Enriquez Lee.  Not that it mattered, no one ever called her Caridad Enriquez Lee or anything else for that matter.  Aunt Selma called her 'girl,' because she had forgotten her name as soon as Carrie stepped through her door, and for a long time Carrie didn't really get to talk to anybody else.

Since aunt Selma didn't always remember Carrie existed, she forgot to enroll her in school.  Carrie's education consisted of what she could gleam from watching endless television programs, and reading the fashion magazines and tattler pages that her aunt bought almost daily.

Television was a revelation for Carrie.  By watching it constantly she began to understand what it took to be noticed, to be remembered.  The gossip sheets and magazines were helpful too, teaching Carrie about values, and morals, and what people defined as bad and good.

Carrie desperately wanted to be like those beautiful people on TV, whom everyone seemed to respect and admire, but Carrie knew it was practically impossible.  She was plain, ugly really, and very, very forgettable.  She had drippy black hair that didn't do much other than get in her way and give her something to brush.  She was very short and very thin, her diet having stunted her growth, and she had bad teeth and oddly shaped features because of her mixed origins.

Carrie knew deep inside that she had to do something radical if she was ever going to be remembered.  But what or how she did not know.

Eventually, aunt Selma started noticing Carrie more often.  Aunt Selma noticed that she was in the way and eating more food.  She was even starting to pester Aunt Selma about buying her things like barrettes and shoes that fit and maxi-pads.

"You gotta get a job or you gotta go, girl."  Aunt Selma said plainly. Aunt Selma did not believe in mincing her words.

So Carrie got the job and the Stop N Shop, and it made a little difference.  They didn't remember her there much either, usually calling her "Hey You!" although Carrie was embroidered on her uniform.  After a while people did start to call her Carrie, but only in the context of jokes about pig's blood at her expense.

One day, Carrie discovered that there was something even better than television to cling to.  Carrie saved for months to buy her first computer from a second-hand shop.  It became her link to an outside world, her lifeline.

She found it easy to learn, and to her surprise found she had quite a knack for the world that was beginning to form on the other side of the phone line.  On-line you weren't forgotten.  What you did, what you said was there everyday for people to read later.  An on-line you could pretend to be anything you wanted.

Carrie started slowly building her reputation in the chat-rooms, watching, participating, going along with anything.  Carrie learned that people wanted people to agree with them, to tell them they were right, that they were special, they also wanted extreme, they wanted outrageous, they remembered shocking.

And so Carrie Cognac was born and raised in this new virtual world, and though it was a hostile place, and full of strange people and stranger things, Carrie learned that she was not just a survivor, but a thriver.

Her rise to the top of the pile was legendary.  She had developed millions of friends and followers around the world.  She had figured out how to earn money, lots of money, by being on display by playing her pretend part until she herself believed it.  She used that money well, on operations and treatments to fix the errors that Nature had made when she was born, and on treating herself to all the things that mattered.  She had the right shoes, the right clothes, the right bling, and an edge that no one could match, because Carrie Cognac knew no bounds.

She eventually became so famous that she earned herself her own TV show, making her childhood dream a reality.  It was a heady and addictive feeling to be known, remembered, recognized, loved, and Carrie couldn't get enough.

But just when Carrie had everything she'd dreamed of, things started to feel wrong.  Carrie had dealt with her 'haters' well.  They had been as important to her as her friends and lovers.  They had helped her rise.

Whenever her friends and lovers were starting to forget about her, the haters did their thing and brought her back to the warm spotlight.  But suddenly her haters were questioning her causes and this hurt Carrie very much.

Carrie had a lot of causes that she supported and used her weighty image to bring to the attention of her fan base.  She supported gay rights, of course, being a committed bisexual she felt very strongly about the rights of gays.  She Twittered constantly about it.  She also had the words, "Heavenly HermAphrodite" tattooed on her very lower abdomen, just above her signature waxed arrow pointing down, intended for any lovers to were too drunk or too stoned to find the spot themselves.

Her tattoo had been featured, both in her blog and on her MySpace page, but as the theme of a particularly popular episode of the reality TV show 'Ink, Inc.' The tattooing process had yielded high ratings and both the show's tattoo artists had a lot of fun with Carrie, as did her fan base.

On her Blog, Carrie explained the significance of Heavenly HermAphrodite as the Greek Goddess, twin sister of Aphrodite, who represented the rights of gays and lesbians and bisexuals and transsexuals, and even the bi-curious, proving that the ancient world had celebrated what modern society was only beginning to accept.  Carrie really believed that she had been brought to this world to prove that sex was good and life was a party and that the best way to honor God's creation was to make love to all of it.  Not animals, naturally.  Carrie pointed out repeatedly that she wasn't one of those pervs.

Carrie was really, really, committed to animals, as shown by her famous T-Shirt line, which she herself had designed, and which she wore on her show emblazoned with inspiring messages in support of animals.  One particularly popular one was Carrie's 'Save a Fish, eat me Instead,' shirt.

But people didn't always get what Carrie was about, how very much she cared about the things she cared about.  Certain respected gay-rights activists wrote Carrie's publicist to protest Carrie's association with their cause.  The representative had even said that she was no more than 'a sexually confused poser,' and that she should not be considered a spokesperson for the tolerance and equal rights that they were fighting so seriously to gain for the community.  Carrie lashed back on her Blog, stating that they were just a bunch of haters, and that anyone who chose to turn their backs on having anyone as a lover, just because they happened to be a man or a woman, as the case may be, was just really prejudiced inside and that, as a Latino-Asian-African-American Minority Bi-Sexual woman, she really resented prejudice and sexism in every form.

Certain animal rights groups also said that her T-Shirts were in poor taste and detracted from their serious message.  Rather than helping the cause, they were alienating key donors.  Carrie ranted against this very publicly on her You Tube page, questioning if every one involved in the World Wildlife Fund could prove they were Vegan, because if they were not Vegan they were just as bad as Whale Hunters as far as Carrie was concerned.

Some geeky haters, had even made a big fuss about her tattoo, pointing out that hermaphrodite was a biological phenomenon, not an actual Greek Goddess, and that she had not, as Carrie claimed in her Blog, lived on Mt. Olympus with her sister Aphrodite where they celebrated life by having many orgies.

"I mean, so what?"  Carrie complained to her agent, "The Greek Gods are all stories, right?  If I say that HermAphrodite was a goddess too, then it's my story, nothing wrong with that."

Carrie's agent did not try to explain, she never contradicted the goose with the golden egg.  She just fed her ego and kept it nice and fat.  She told her to keep being herself.

"Because you are you and you are wonderful," the agent said with a smile,"and let's face it, sweetie, it's your world, we just live in it."

That was the challenge for Carrie.  Of course, she knew who she was by what she loved and what loved her.  She knew what she didn't want to be by what other people loved and other people hated.  But Carrie wasn't sure what "herself" was deep inside.

She decided to explore this gap in her character and find her spiritual nature.  Carrie wrote many famous Blog entries and Twitter entries about her journey to find herself, her inner Carrie.  One time she pointed out that her bisexual nature brought her closer to God because no one was sure if God was a man or a woman, 'but either way I could totally do them.'  This was a very hotly discussed and controversial statement, that raised the same kind of rage as when John Lennon said the Beatles were greater than God, and Carrie's recognition levels and fan base and hater base skyrocketed.

She experimented with Cabala to bring her closer to Madonna, who was listed on Carrie's My Space page at the very top of her 'People I'd like to do it with before I die' list.

She tried Buddhism for a while, in Honor of her part-Asian heritage, but learned that she couldn't get very far in reading the Dalai Lama's work before she was reaching for a Dictionary and lost interest quickly.  She posted daily her I Ching results from her psychic page instead, and how she felt about them.

She looked into Scientology, but then dropped out because Tom Cruise was really judgmental and mean Brooke Shields on Oprah, and that was just not cool.

She tried Catholicism, and various forms of Christianity, but they were really judgmental and all about saying "no" to things.  Carrie was all about saying "yes" to things.

That is when Carrie started seeing the Angel in her house, and hearing the voices in her head.

The Angel was called Charlie, which was really cool as far as Carrie was concerned, because Charlie could have been either a man or a woman.

Charlie's Angels re-runs had been a favorite of Carrie's growing-up. Charlie was also the brand of perfume that Carrie had first bought herself when she was just getting started with money she had saved up from her Stop N Shop paycheck.  Even later, she was getting lots of freebies and could afford any perfume she wanted, the smell of Charlie stirred warm memories of the beginning of Carrie's good times.

Charlie, the Angel, seemed to really understand Carrie.

"You are so sad," Charlie said the first time he/she appeared in Carrie's room.

"Dude, how did you get in my room?"  Carrie protested, "Breaking in is soooo uncool."

"I am here to save you."  Charlie said softly.

Carrie was fascinated by Charlie's beautiful eyes, which seemed to change color from black to brown to green to blue, and whose hair also mutated from dark to like, from short to long, from sleekest straight hair to curliest afro.  But it was Charlie's skin that most intrigued Carrie.  Charlie's skin was entirely opalescent, almost transparent, and illuminated from within.  Charlie glowed.

"I'm stoned.  I'm hallucinating again."  Carrie said sadly.

"I am real, Carrie." Charlie insisted, "I've come to help you."  Charlie's voice was melodic and soothing.  Carrie wanted to listen.

Things got more difficult for Carrie after Charlie arrived.  The voices in her head said, "That's it you've lost it.  You are a loser.  You are a nobody.  People already forgot about you," and similarly hurtful things.  She was observed by her maid more than once screaming "Stop It! Shut up! Shut up!" and she was being very rude and irritable with people which was really not her vibe at all.

Charlie worked with Carrie, calmed her down, and eventually she reached a balance.  That is when she decided that everyone in the world should benefit from the special insights that she was receiving from Charlie.  She Blogged and updated her Twitter about everything that Charlie said to her.  She wrote endlessly about how very special she felt that God loved her enough to send her her own very personal spiritual Angel-guide.  But people just laughed.

She even took a picture of Charlie sitting next to her, and posted it on her MySpace page and FaceBook page, but Charlie's glowing skin was problematic for the digital camera and it just looked like she had taken the picture with the flash on the wrong setting and a big glob of light was to her right.

Carrie was nothing if she wasn't resourceful, so she tried to do a little web-cam video of her conversations with Charlie to post on her You Tube page.  But the same bright light problem on the video camera was made worse by the irritating high screeching, like microphone feedback, that sounded every time Charlie spoke.  Some people put up with the noise just to be able to laugh hysterically as Carrie talked to herself, taking herself very seriously, and discussing her innermost fears.  On the video she confessed things she had not ever even Blogged about but which with Charlie's encouragement she was starting to admit.

"I don't want to be forgotten," she painfully admitted between sobs that were transmitted and replayed around the world.

No one heard or understood when Charlie answered, "No one is ever forgotten Carrie, eternity's memory has infinite capacity."

Overall, the appearance of Charlie in Carrie's life had mixed results.  Her manager loved it.  The advertising revenue on all of Charlie's various media sources continued to flow.  Big Hits are Big Hits.  Where one advertiser pulled out cringing, another strode in to take their place.

Her agent was a bit more concerned, "I think Carrie is reaching a maximum burn rate," she explained to the manager, "she is peaking now on the whole 'freak' angle, but soon she's going to isolate fans and her light will go out."

"It's a phase," her manager countered, "She'll get over it.  I'll get her doctor to check her medication just in case, balance her out."

They deliberated on this point repeatedly.  Privately they both increased their fees and padded their expenses to be sure their lifeboats were securely in place when the Carrie boat sunk.

Charlie continued to patiently work on Carrie's enlightenment, but no matter how kindly Charlie's message was delivered, it was not always easy for Carrie to follow.

"You need to forget about superficial and temporary things, Carrie.  There's a big world out there and a lot of important things happening on it, that you need to be aware of.  True eternal love abounds, and wealth, real wealth, is intellectual and spiritual, not material."

"Dude.  I don't even understand the words you use sometimes."  Carrie protested, "You are really bumming me out.  Listen, if you are just here to bring me down, if you can't bring a good vibe, then you are like the voices say, and I shouldn't listen to you anyway."

"OK,"  Charlie would smile with a sigh, "We'll try to make it simpler.  But Charlie, those voices in your head, they are not your friends."

"Maybe you're here because its time for me to go."  Carrie said, voicing a conjecture that she'd already put on her Twitter page, that Heaven needed her up there, "Maybe I could teach you guys how to lighten up and party."

"Heaven is just fine as it is, Carrie."  Charlie said, "This isn't about Heaven, it's about you.  You have power, but you are misusing it.  You are sad, unfulfilled and confused, but if you make a few small changes, you'll be great.  Only you can choose to make them, though."

As the manager had planned the doctor changed Carrie's medications and Carrie stopped seeing Charlie for a week.  She spent the week catching up on her previous life style, getting back to the Carrie Cognac people knew and either loved or hated.  But Carrie could still hear the voices, and their message had changed.

"It's all about you girl!" the voices exclaimed cheering, "You and your wonderfulness.  You are sexy and fine and fun and you think things about things.  You need to remind people of that.  Let them see you are cool and hip and totally tuned-in to everything."

Carrie thought about it and decided the voices were right.  After all, would a girl like her ever have had the house she lived in, the bling she wore, the staff that waited on her hand and foot, the entourage that followed her around, or the gorgeous pink Porsche she had gotten herself for her birthday, if she wasn't totally the center of the universe?  You bet not.

Carrie celebrated this epiphany with a totally awesome birthday party for her dog Precious, who had his own websites and fan base and made his own little fortune on from pet supplies and services, and who like his owner, mated with any dog or any bitch in town.

All of Carrie's friends and current lovers came to the party and the event was played live via web-cam to her fan base.  An exclusive video of the orgy that followed in her room was sold separately by Carrie's agent to a discriminating web-site that was willing to pay the high asked-for price.  Carrie drank to a stupor and was wild and crazy and outrageous, everything that made her a star.

But in the morning, she awoke on a block of ice floating at sea, in the middle of nowhere.

"What the Hell?" she shouted, "What kind of sick joke is this?"

Whichever of her staff had planned this was TOTALLY fired, she thought.

It was chilly and she was getting colder.  Her teeth began to chatter and her body began to shiver out of control.  This was it, she was going to die.

But just as she was going to succumb to the cold, Charlie came out of nowhere,  took a seat next to her on the block of ice, putting his arm around her and instantly warming her up.

"I want to go back."  she said.

"Of course you will,"  Charlie assured her, "and you'll do it even better when you get back.  But first we need to have a good long talk."

Originally Posted on Blue Earth, Red Shoes by Clarisa Brown at 12:06 PM, Tuesday, October 13, 2009 http://blueearthredshoes.blogspot.com
Labels: Short Stories
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