Other - Prompt #3 - Weeks
Title: Vagabond
Rating: PG
Prompt: Weeks
Table: Others
Note: Follows the story line of Virtues of Patience
Summary: She's shifting around and she wonders if she will until the end of time because they aren't quite like her parents and she can't quite like them in the same way. And her life starts being measured in weeks.
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She didn’t know it was possible for a fourteen year old girl to travel so many places in three weeks (although, in retrospect, it just feels like she’s been around the entire world when she’s only gone to two places).
The first was her grandparents’ home and she drifted through time there (because she couldn’t stand their looks and they couldn’t stand the reminder that was her). It was an unsure silence that neither could break and she was content to let it hang in the air like a smothering blanket. In the end, she left, saying nothing because there was nothing more that could be said, waving a goodbye that meant nothing (nowadays, things rarely did).
Then she’s out of the airplane and is being greeted by her father’s brother - Uncle Julian. He, unlike her grandparents, talks to her - talks to her as if nothing is wrong, as if she’s just here for the summer like she usually does, as if her parents aren’t dead (dead dead dead and - oh god - she understands for the first time that dead people don’t talk).
And they try hard, too. Auntie Gloria tucks her in at night, stays with her for a while (but she’s fourteen - not four - and, really, she wants her parents not this person who’s pretending to be her mother and why did they die?) Her cousin, Justin, is nicer to her than usual and, all of a sudden, she realizes that she misses that silence at her grandmother’s house (because it’s just so stifling here with everybody trying to pretend that this is just life as usual but it isn’t, it isn’t, because her parents are dead and she isn’t). She realizes that she can’t stay anymore and it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant two weeks, but she won’t stay here. When she waves goodbye this time, she puts more effort into smiling because they tried so very hard.
She gets on the plane again, her mouth a grim line because, now, she’s heading to Aunt Josephine. It’ll be the same routine all over again, she knows because Aunt Josephine isn’t her mother and in a week or so, she’ll leave that house, too. And it’s almost pathetically funny how her life started being measured in weeks: one week at her grandparents’ house, two at her uncle’s. And she desperately wonders if this is worth continuing anymore because none of them will ever be her mother or her father.
When she gets off the plane, Aunt Josie is there, waiting for her. Neither of them try to talk to each other and she wonders if this is going to be anything like her stay with her grandparents. When they reach the house, she’s a little surprised to find that no one is there, but catches herself when her mouth begins to form the question because she remembers that Aunt Josie divorced Uncle Nathan (and as she looks around the big house, she realizes that it’s empty and too quiet). The clatter of the silverware adds to the absence of words (and she can’t ever remember hearing this noise at her house), and she leave without a goodnight.
Aunt Josie isn’t there when she slides out of the crisp linen sheets the next morning and that’s the first sign she gets that a doctor’s life is rather hectic. She explores the barren rooms with too much light and cold leather sofas that she had thought she’d left behind. There isn’t a single picture in the house and it’s all so clean (pristine, immaculately in order, so clean and devoid of life that it feels unnatural). Her aunt comes back at night tired and with a cup of coffee in her hands.
“When do you think you’ll be ready to go to school, Melanie?” she asks softly, over the sound of the TV. Her voice is thin in the darkened room, tired.
She doesn’t respond, just curls her hand into a fist and wonders who else is going to pretend. She gives this aunt of her’s a week, tops, before she dumps Melanie, too (and then the cycle restarts again and it’s a bitter realization because she doesn’t know if she should hate her aunt or herself or both, doesn’t know anything anymore because things like this were only supposed to happen in movies and even then) - she doesn’t say a word.
“Okay, I’ll sign you up for next week then,” Josephine says, pausing awkwardly. “Okay,” she reiterates before leaving the room and her niece.
Silence. And she curls further into herself because this strange woman doesn’t care, probably won’t ever care even though it was her brother, and she’s so far from home and with the blue light from the TV pressing against her eyeballs she wonders if this is what it feels like to go insane.
She doesn’t see her aunt or the rest of the week, and that’s fine because she has no idea what to do or say around her. As she watches a school bus the color of mustard creep up to her drive way, she wonders how long it’s going to be before Josie decides to get rid of her (and she wonders if her aunt wanted her in the first place or if she’s just another person to be taken care of like all the hundreds of patients at a hospital).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Meh. It wasn't as good as I'd thought it would be. Oh well. i rewrote it like a million times. I guess this is just one of those chapters. Suggestions, comments, criticism.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Weeks
Table: Others
Note: Follows the story line of Virtues of Patience
Summary: She's shifting around and she wonders if she will until the end of time because they aren't quite like her parents and she can't quite like them in the same way. And her life starts being measured in weeks.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She didn’t know it was possible for a fourteen year old girl to travel so many places in three weeks (although, in retrospect, it just feels like she’s been around the entire world when she’s only gone to two places).
The first was her grandparents’ home and she drifted through time there (because she couldn’t stand their looks and they couldn’t stand the reminder that was her). It was an unsure silence that neither could break and she was content to let it hang in the air like a smothering blanket. In the end, she left, saying nothing because there was nothing more that could be said, waving a goodbye that meant nothing (nowadays, things rarely did).
Then she’s out of the airplane and is being greeted by her father’s brother - Uncle Julian. He, unlike her grandparents, talks to her - talks to her as if nothing is wrong, as if she’s just here for the summer like she usually does, as if her parents aren’t dead (dead dead dead and - oh god - she understands for the first time that dead people don’t talk).
And they try hard, too. Auntie Gloria tucks her in at night, stays with her for a while (but she’s fourteen - not four - and, really, she wants her parents not this person who’s pretending to be her mother and why did they die?) Her cousin, Justin, is nicer to her than usual and, all of a sudden, she realizes that she misses that silence at her grandmother’s house (because it’s just so stifling here with everybody trying to pretend that this is just life as usual but it isn’t, it isn’t, because her parents are dead and she isn’t). She realizes that she can’t stay anymore and it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant two weeks, but she won’t stay here. When she waves goodbye this time, she puts more effort into smiling because they tried so very hard.
She gets on the plane again, her mouth a grim line because, now, she’s heading to Aunt Josephine. It’ll be the same routine all over again, she knows because Aunt Josephine isn’t her mother and in a week or so, she’ll leave that house, too. And it’s almost pathetically funny how her life started being measured in weeks: one week at her grandparents’ house, two at her uncle’s. And she desperately wonders if this is worth continuing anymore because none of them will ever be her mother or her father.
When she gets off the plane, Aunt Josie is there, waiting for her. Neither of them try to talk to each other and she wonders if this is going to be anything like her stay with her grandparents. When they reach the house, she’s a little surprised to find that no one is there, but catches herself when her mouth begins to form the question because she remembers that Aunt Josie divorced Uncle Nathan (and as she looks around the big house, she realizes that it’s empty and too quiet). The clatter of the silverware adds to the absence of words (and she can’t ever remember hearing this noise at her house), and she leave without a goodnight.
Aunt Josie isn’t there when she slides out of the crisp linen sheets the next morning and that’s the first sign she gets that a doctor’s life is rather hectic. She explores the barren rooms with too much light and cold leather sofas that she had thought she’d left behind. There isn’t a single picture in the house and it’s all so clean (pristine, immaculately in order, so clean and devoid of life that it feels unnatural). Her aunt comes back at night tired and with a cup of coffee in her hands.
“When do you think you’ll be ready to go to school, Melanie?” she asks softly, over the sound of the TV. Her voice is thin in the darkened room, tired.
She doesn’t respond, just curls her hand into a fist and wonders who else is going to pretend. She gives this aunt of her’s a week, tops, before she dumps Melanie, too (and then the cycle restarts again and it’s a bitter realization because she doesn’t know if she should hate her aunt or herself or both, doesn’t know anything anymore because things like this were only supposed to happen in movies and even then) - she doesn’t say a word.
“Okay, I’ll sign you up for next week then,” Josephine says, pausing awkwardly. “Okay,” she reiterates before leaving the room and her niece.
Silence. And she curls further into herself because this strange woman doesn’t care, probably won’t ever care even though it was her brother, and she’s so far from home and with the blue light from the TV pressing against her eyeballs she wonders if this is what it feels like to go insane.
She doesn’t see her aunt or the rest of the week, and that’s fine because she has no idea what to do or say around her. As she watches a school bus the color of mustard creep up to her drive way, she wonders how long it’s going to be before Josie decides to get rid of her (and she wonders if her aunt wanted her in the first place or if she’s just another person to be taken care of like all the hundreds of patients at a hospital).
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Meh. It wasn't as good as I'd thought it would be. Oh well. i rewrote it like a million times. I guess this is just one of those chapters. Suggestions, comments, criticism.