Lost fic: Thirteen
title: Thirteen
fandom: Lost
characters: Kate
rating: PG
word count: 257
summary: She swings and swings and worries what her mother will say. Young!Kate.
prompt:
un_love_you - 10, I'm broken
Her bike falls sideways with a thud.
The gravel rustles under her sneakers and the lights at the playground create eerie shadows of the slides and jungle gyms. When she looks up, the dark sky is cloudy and she can't spot any stars.
She sits on a swing and she swings and swings and worries what her mother will say when she comes home so late and what she will say about her breath reeking of cigarettes.
Still, she's in no hurry to leave. She's alone and it's quiet and the back and forward movement of the swing lulls her a dream-like state where she forgets everything for awhile. She pushes with her feet and the swing takes her higher and higher.
Her eyes flutter in the wind and her hair gets even more tangled.
More than anything she's worried that her mother won't say anything about missing her curfew and smelling of cigarettes. That the house will stink of alcohol and Wayne will shout and kick walls and her mother will be too preoccupied to even notice her.
She jumps off the swing and flies through the air like when she was a kid and she and her friends competed who could jump the furthest. Her fly comes to a sudden halt when the ground meets her and she bangs her bare knees. She ignores the blooded scratches and brushes the grains of sand from her clothes, then gets back on the swing.
She's in no hurry to go home.
fandom: Lost
characters: Kate
rating: PG
word count: 257
summary: She swings and swings and worries what her mother will say. Young!Kate.
prompt:
un_love_you - 10, I'm broken
Her bike falls sideways with a thud.
The gravel rustles under her sneakers and the lights at the playground create eerie shadows of the slides and jungle gyms. When she looks up, the dark sky is cloudy and she can't spot any stars.
She sits on a swing and she swings and swings and worries what her mother will say when she comes home so late and what she will say about her breath reeking of cigarettes.
Still, she's in no hurry to leave. She's alone and it's quiet and the back and forward movement of the swing lulls her a dream-like state where she forgets everything for awhile. She pushes with her feet and the swing takes her higher and higher.
Her eyes flutter in the wind and her hair gets even more tangled.
More than anything she's worried that her mother won't say anything about missing her curfew and smelling of cigarettes. That the house will stink of alcohol and Wayne will shout and kick walls and her mother will be too preoccupied to even notice her.
She jumps off the swing and flies through the air like when she was a kid and she and her friends competed who could jump the furthest. Her fly comes to a sudden halt when the ground meets her and she bangs her bare knees. She ignores the blooded scratches and brushes the grains of sand from her clothes, then gets back on the swing.
She's in no hurry to go home.