(50) quiet

WHOOOOOOOA WE’RE HALF WAY THEEERE,

WHOOA OH, WE’RE LIVIN’ ON A PRAYER

I swear i wrote this yesterday i just forgot to post until like 3 in the morning

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It was early in the morning when she got back.

The house was silent, snow drifts piled up against the windows. The sky was growing brighter, steadily, but the early morning sun still hid behind heavy cloud cover.

She slowly took off her boots, setting them by the door. Slipped off her jacket and tossed it on a chair, only pausing long enough to make sure it didn’t fall.

After changing into sweatpants, she checked her messages absentmindedly as she brushed her teeth. Cinders glowed softly in the fireplace.

Hmm. When was the last time she went to the dentist?

Swish, spit, rinse. She just unhooked her bra and slid it out through one of the shirt’s armholes; it required too much motions to do otherwise.

Once she was safely in bed, wrapped up in a warm comforter, she used her toes to slide off her socks, and turned. Let her muscles relax, and exhaled. The world was otherwise silent; cool.

She was safe.

(49) woof

I love my kids! I love running and jumping and chasing birds but not the good bird because we’re friends, but the other birds are fun fun fun fun fun to chase.

This place is very different from the place we grew up in but it’s ok! Less people less noise less light but more fun more green, more of my kids to take care of.

Marcy is older now, not small and squishy, but very busy and grown. Smells less like milk, more like moss and petrol and dust. She still cares, still plays with me good fun a lot of balls lots of tug of war! She was fun when she was still squishy but she is fun now good fun.

She has an angry friend yells a lot but it's ok he means well he yells but he’s nice deep down.

Very deep down but he’s ok.

The air is fresh here! lots of new animals and creatures but I keep my kids safe there’s no need to worry. I’m very fierce I can fight the strange things in the woods that are big and noisy and smell like trees and mud.

I can tell they all had trouble with the change in the air and the woods. It was loud loud loud for days and you could feel the Bad in the air and see it in the sky and hear the panic and the everything.

Then it was quiet.

Then the kids came back! And they were tired and sad and were bothered by the Bad but I can fix it and be there for them and it is ok!

It will be ok.

(48) memories

Or also maybe ‘before the beginning’ because that was the prompt

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Winters were always cold there. The first big snow storm Steven remembered was absolutely MASSIVE: it knocked out power and swept away trees and forced their town into a stand still for a week.

It was much too cold, his mom said. He wasn’t allowed to go outside, but he wanted to dig his hands into the fresh white powder SO BAD that he tried to sneak out. He picked out his winter coat all on his own and jammed a hat over his head, and was halfway to waddling to the door when his father caught him in the act.

Then his father gave him a stern Look, and Steven immediately burst into tears.

But all children, they say, can be bribed with a good cup of hot coco.

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This week is shit anyway so have something ive just been sitting on

Did you hear that carrie fisher drowned in moonlight, strangled by her own bra?

oh wait no!!!!!!

I dont know what to do with this so….. Here i guess?????

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“Rui what did you do”

“I was drunk and I got the world’s smallest tattoo where they misspelled love as ‘lvoe’”

“RUI”

(47) ancestors

ok so this was GOING to be a part but………. It would have been FILLED with spoilers so

redacted??/

anyway, here

(46) those lost

“Hey.”

Steve jerked and looked behind him to see Chrys coming up on his left among the tombstones.

She sat down, a bottle nestled in between her legs. “This grandpa?”

A nod, “Yeah. I thought… someone should come.” He’d been there for awhile already, just sitting and thinking.

The graveyard was pretty overgrown already, full of weeds and flowers and bird nests, but Steven still did his best to clear away some headstones. Even though the nature would eventually overcome it all, he still thought they should be clear for now.

Steve gave his sister a disapproving look, nodding his head towards the bottle. “You know you’re not drinking that, right?” The paper bag covering the label hadn't fooled him.

She rolled her eyes, but still handed it to him without much fuss. “It’s not for us.”

Oh.

She produced two tiny cups from her pockets, then placed both on the stone before them. Even after they filled them, however, there was still a lot of alcohol left in the bottle.

Steven shifted the bottle in his hands back and forth a little before he wordlessly took a swig and offered the bottle to Chrys.

After that, they sat in silence.

Steve thought about how the word would move on after they died.

Chrys didn’t speak again until the sun had started to slide past the horizon. “I miss them.”

Steve took her hand in his and held it tight. He remembered when she was first born, when his mother told him and his brothers to be careful with her. Chrys was still too small, too fragile. Steven had taken her tiny hand then, held it as gently as he could.

Baby Chrys had held on like his hand was a lifeline. Adult Chrys, it seemed, was doing the same.

“I miss them too.”

(45) mothers

Will’s mother seemed to be more focused on social appearances than her actual children. She would do what she had to, and wished her children well, but spent a great majority of her time at social gatherings. There were once ugly rumors at Will’s school, about how his mother never wanted children but couldn’t handle the social stigma of an abortion. One time, Artie got in trouble for punching a girl in the bathroom over these rumors. Will never told his mom about that.

Marcy’s mother was just like her husband: always working. She was even more distant than Marcy’s father, if that was possible. In the end, it was Marcy’s aunt who took Marcy to her first day of school, and who comforted her when she cried. A small part of Marcy wished it could have been different, but… that never played out.

Rui’s mother did what was best for her daughter. She worked hard to make sure her daughter had food on the table and a roof under her head. She paid for school trips and extra books; listened to her daughter talk about whatever interested her at the time. It was hard on her sometimes, from what Rui was able to see, but she never blamed her mother. Ms. Carter was raising a little girl all on her own, away from other family and support, and Rui loved her for it.

Steven’s mother was the mother of five very particular children. It was hard having so many when they were younger, but once Emile was old enough to drive, she could relax some. Mrs. Segura wanted them to be prepared for anything, made sure they were ready to take on the world regardless of what may be in it. The Segura children grew up in a large and supportive family, in the end. The only time they didn’t go to their mother with a problem was when they didn’t want to worry her too much. Regardless, Steven always had someone.

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tttake it

(44) fathers

William Grim, Rui Carter, Steven Segura, Marcy ???

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Will's father was professional. He always dressed in suits and neatly ironed pants. Nothing more, nothing less. Will and his father has a good relationship, if a minimal one. He made sure Will was provided for, and encouraged his interest in computers, if nothing else. Mr. Grim saved all his disappointment for his eldest son.

Rui never knew her father; it was a choice her mother made when she was very young. From a young age Rui was spirited away to the north, away from her father and her grandparents and into the night. When asked about it, her mother said it had been the best choice available to them. Rui trusted her mother.

Marcy's father was distant; he was always busy working. There were mild, obligatory attempts of affection, but it never truly meant anything. For the most part, Marcy grew up away from his gaze.

Steven's father, most definitely, was the best. Mr. Segura did his best to give all his children what they needed; he did whatever he could. Children should be cherished, as should wives and good art. He was very traditional in that way, but loved his children regardless of what they decided to become. If one of his children wanted to pursue an unorthodox profession, he was fine with that. He never pushed Steven to do anything he didn't want to do.