Oh no.

A Gravity Falls Fanfic by Aoikami Sarah

Written in May, 2015 while waiting after “Not What He Seems”

 

“Let no man tether his own body to his dreams,

his dreams to someone else,

Oh no, oh no.”

-           from “The Satellite” by Elvis Costello

Chapter One

Selected Entries from the Journal of Pacifica E. Northwest, Summer, 2012

 

June 6th, 2012

Went to a “party” at that gross tourist-trap tonight. Won a lame karaoke contest. Someone actually dared compete against me! She had an old lady name, I forget what. I think she might be a new girl? Her friends were that big girl with the man’s voice and the Asian girl with the glasses. Gross. She was pretty good at Karaoke, but not good enough. XP Afterparty on the boat. Again. It was ok.

 

June 13th, 2012

Pioneer Day! My outfit this year is lake-foam green. Screw anachronism! I also managed to find a faux-fur coonskin cap and had The Help set the old one on fire. It smelled so bad! Ugh!

 

Later: OMG. So that new girl and her brother are INSANE and they dug up this report that “proves” that Nathaniel Northwest was a loser! I do not know what to think right now. I feel like maybe I should feel more angry at those kids than I am at my own ancestor but... Mom and Dad said they didn’t know anything about it, but I know by now that means NOTHING. Dad said I’m forbidden from talking about it and he took the report away and then told me not to even think about it. I remember something like “patsy mayor” and “hated by everyone”?!! But it also said something mental about Santa Claus and that the true founder of GF was a guy named Trembly? But if it was completely false, why didn’t Dad say so?

 

June 14th, 2012

I dug around a little. The new kids are just here for the summer. Not that it matters since they’d probably just go to the public school if they moved here. The girl has that old lady name… Mildred? Maud? Something. The boy, I don’t know. I thought I heard it, but it can’t be that stupid. They LIVE at the tourist trap. How can they even? It smells like old man, mold and must.

 

June 20th, 2012

I went to this lame carnival thing at the tourist-trap. I won a chicken. Seriously. A chicken. I gave it to that weird old gold-rush cliché man. The girl (Mabel. Her name is Mabel. Ha!) won a super cute pig. How did she beat me?! I so officially cannot deal.

I think I’ve seen more of this town in the last week than I have in my whole life. Has it always been this nuts? People in GF are not like they are on TV or in New York, Paris or Rome. The new kids were running around the whole time like lunatics so maybe poor people everywhere are crazy? Oh, and they’re related to the old man who runs the tourist trap. Maybe that explains everything. The guy wears an eyepatch… sometimes. What the hell?!

 

June 30th, 2012

Mabel is making videos for some reason and interviewed me to ask what my favorite color was. They must be so bored over there in that smelly shack.

 

July 8th, 2012

I do not even know where to begin about what happened yesterday. But I’ve decided to find a way to hide this journal. The stuff I have to write today is too weird. No one (besides the Pines) will ever believe me, and I don’t want Mom and Dad to have any excuses… So I’m going to find a tool to take out the little metal thingies (screws? yuck, who came up with that name?) and stick this behind the central air vent.

My mini-golf trainer Sergei and I went to the course as per usual and Mabel and Dipper were there with their servant and the gross old man they live with. Mabel challenged me, again! Oh it made my blood boil! But I kind of liked the feeling. Like, I dunno, like to test myself against her skills made me feel good in a way? In an angry sort of way? So we met at midnight at the course and about halfway through the round, things got weird. The minigolf course is controlled by a race of tiny golf ball people. They tried to kill me. But Dipper and Mabel saved me. They didn’t have to, but they did. They could have just run for it. I would have.

Mabel apologized for rigging the course and admitted that I was the better player and that I would have won! Never ever has anyone… I can’t even. She just talks to me like I’m nobody, like I’m anybody! I think I played it cool, but I felt like I was coming apart. Who are these kids?!

When it was over, my car hadn’t returned to pick me up yet and it was going to pour and Mabel and Dipper gave me a ride in their ancient car. It was gross. SO GROSS and dirty and smelly my hand stuck to the seat. Mable shared a snack with me which is weird because 1) they are allowed to eat in the car (well, it is pretty dirty already) and 2) she shared something with me for no reason at all. I’ve done nothing but badmouth her to her face since the moment I met her and she has not once kowtowed or groveled or sucked up to me like every other kid I’ve ever met does. Her brother, too. He flat out hates me, but he doesn’t hide it like everyone else does. I need to think about this a lot. Seriously. Is it just these two who are like this, or are there others in the world?

Oh, and I am not making the golf ball people up. Sergei was my witness, though, I’m not sure if they killed him, I sort of left him to die. Oops.

 

July 20th, 2012

Tonight was supposed to be another wonderful night highlighting the greatness of the family Northwest, showing off to the rest of the elite world by throwing them a party to remember. I’m always the star. But this year was totally different. Tonight I learned so many secrets. Things I could have gone my whole life not knowing and I would have grown up to be the same sort of diamond-encrusted trash my parents are. Sorry this looks kind of sloppy, my hands are still shaking I’m so mad!

I found proof that the Northwest name is crap, and not from some weirdo report like before. In our house are paintings-- actual high quality enormous oil paintings in gilded frames-- showing my ancestors’ misdeeds. They must have hung in the house in the past and maybe Mom and Dad decided that if they were going to convince everyone they weren’t evil that they should hide them? I don’t know! It’s crazy! This whole night was crazy! A ghost with an ax through his head (did my ancestor kill him?!) tried to kill us, all because our family broke a promise a long time ago to let the common folk into the party.

So my family IS a fraud. A “sham” as Dipper put it. Evil, malicious, maybe murderers? I’m not like that, am I? But I’m a Northwest! I’ve always been taught to be proud of that, but why, if what it means to be a Northwest is nothing but terrible? My father suggested before the night was over that we could EAT our butler. EAT HIM. They have no problem with that. And I’m their daughter...

My Dad hired Dipper to come and exterminate the ghost, and it didn’t go well. Dipper got so mad at me for lying to him about the real reason for the haunting, but I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what made Dipper come back, but he did. He rescued me. Rather than agree with everyone that I’m spoiled and terrible just like them and leave me to die turned into wood and set on fire by the vengeful ghost of a lumberjack, Dipper said “just because you’re your parents’ daughter doesn’t mean you have to be like them” or something.

No one has ever said that I can be anything other than my parents’ daughter. “You are our daughter” rings in my ears just like that bell...

I’ve been trained to behave with a dog-obedience tool and until tonight I’ve never thought to question it! It didn’t seem like that big a deal when I just wanted to wear a different dress, or eat another piece of biscotti, or to go out to the park to watch fireworks with the townies… I thought my parents knew what was best for me and were only trying to raise me right.

I may only be 12 years old, but for years now I’ve been getting around on my own, driven places by a chauffeur alone, trained for sports alone, had to look after myself in the house and away at school, so I kind of feel like an adult. But EVERY SINGLE THING I do is planned for me. If I’m thirsty, someone buys me a drink, I have no idea how to just walk into a store and buy a soda. I mean, I think I could figure it out, but I’ve never actually made a transaction myself. My parents control my entire world. They put me on a pedestal and if I falter, out comes the bell…

Dipper suggested it and the ghost said it. I am not like the other Northwests. I can’t be! If I thought things had changed after the minigolf incident, boy, are they different now. I wonder if when I turn 18 if I can get out from under their control… Omg that is crazy, what am I thinking?!

I’m grounded by the way for letting the commoners into the party. Like, forever. The only thing I’m sad about is that I can’t go see Dipper. He’s kind of officially my hero now. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with that, but I just really want to see him and talk to him and his sister. I think maybe they are the only two people in the world who really know me, even a little.

 

This was created as a mixed-media fanfiction on tumblr. Go to tumblr user aksarah and search #ohno to see it.