(no subject)
Title: The Story Of A Girl
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Mentions of many characters.
Word Count: 820
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: I'm proud of this one. And I don't know why.
Summary: There is a baby, born in Iowa, and she becomes a girl, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair that turns blonde in the summer sun. And when she asks about her father, all she's told is "he's not a good man".
There is a baby.
There is a baby, born in Iowa (a place she doesn’t remember and has never been back to), and she becomes a girl, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair that turns blonde in the summer sun.
This girl lives with her mother, and only her. The one time she asks why, after watching her friends’ fathers’ drop them off at school, after realizing that she’s the only one at school who not only doesn’t live with her father but also doesn’t know where he is, she gets a look from her mother that she both can’t identify and never wants to see again, accompanied by a, “He’s not a good man.”
It’s all she knows about her father. The words play over and over in her mind as her classmates ask the normal questions, the “what does your dad do?” and “why don’t you live with him?”, and she makes up lies to answer them. Because at six years old she doesn’t understand, herself.
They diagnose her mother with cancer when she’s eight; they bury her mother the same week she turns nine.
For that week she lives with her mom’s friend. A nice lady, with a kind, forgiving smile. And then one day the nice lady tells her that her father wants her.
Her father.
Her father, the one who isn’t a good man.
She can’t get that thought of her head when she meets him. This man who is unfamiliar, who isn’t warm or loving in any sense of the word. She doesn’t think it’s his fault; he just doesn’t seem to know what to do with her, with a kid.
He’s out late sometimes. He has lady friends over. At ten she learns to raise herself, more or less. He’s unreliable.
But he’s not a bad man. Her mother was wrong on that. He’s just not cut out to be a father.
And they both know it.
He admits to it too, before she turns eleven. Says he’s got a friend in Los Angeles; she’d be better suited to live with him. This man could take better care of her.
It’s weird that she doesn’t feel any real sadness as she leaves him. He’s like an uncle, maybe more of a friend. She doesn’t think of him as a father; maybe it’s better that way, she can’t be disappointed that way.
The man in Los Angeles...well that’s an entirely different ballgame.
She’s just starting to notice things that kids don’t notice. Things like there’s a liquor cabinet, but it’s empty and dusty, and he doesn’t even like the smell of alcohol. A recovering alcoholic she guesses. Things like he can obsessive about the smallest details. He’s a control freak. Things like he doesn’t like planes. He had a bad past experience.
When she turns fourteen she learns about Oceanic Flight 815 and ends up in a screaming match with him because no one ever told her. Not her mother, not her father, not him.
It feels a little bit like betrayal.
But he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore then they did and she’s starting to care about him, because he’s always there, he takes care of her, he is reliable, and so she doesn’t push him. Doesn’t push him past teary-eyed.
When she turns fifteen he goes back to the alcohol and she empties out every bottle he brings into the house. He never retaliates; he’s better than that. But he drinks, this she knows, and he’s not going to stop again unless he wants to. It’s not for her to change.
From what she understands, according to the woman who comes by every now and then, small and blonde and pretty, this isn’t the excess from before. It isn’t as bad. It could be worse.
So she learns to deal. She’s always been independent anyways. He still stays; he’s still there. And this is the most stability she’s had in...forever.
She graduates high school, high marks, and he pays for college, not far away, because she wants to be able to come here, to come to this place she’s called home for almost a decade now.
She does this because she’s almost afraid to be on her own, to lose that connection. Because people die or leave her, and he’s the only one who hasn’t and that holds her to him. This man, with a slight drinking problem and control issues. And he seems better when she’s around; his mood improves, he drinks less. She gives him something to take care of, responsibility, and she thinks he needs that.
So really, she’s only protecting him. That’s what she tells herself.
And when people ask this girl, this girl named Clementine, born in Iowa, raised in New Mexico, then Tennessee, then California, who her family is, the only name that comes to mind is his. This man, named Jack.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Mentions of many characters.
Word Count: 820
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: I'm proud of this one. And I don't know why.
Summary: There is a baby, born in Iowa, and she becomes a girl, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair that turns blonde in the summer sun. And when she asks about her father, all she's told is "he's not a good man".
There is a baby.
There is a baby, born in Iowa (a place she doesn’t remember and has never been back to), and she becomes a girl, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair that turns blonde in the summer sun.
This girl lives with her mother, and only her. The one time she asks why, after watching her friends’ fathers’ drop them off at school, after realizing that she’s the only one at school who not only doesn’t live with her father but also doesn’t know where he is, she gets a look from her mother that she both can’t identify and never wants to see again, accompanied by a, “He’s not a good man.”
It’s all she knows about her father. The words play over and over in her mind as her classmates ask the normal questions, the “what does your dad do?” and “why don’t you live with him?”, and she makes up lies to answer them. Because at six years old she doesn’t understand, herself.
They diagnose her mother with cancer when she’s eight; they bury her mother the same week she turns nine.
For that week she lives with her mom’s friend. A nice lady, with a kind, forgiving smile. And then one day the nice lady tells her that her father wants her.
Her father.
Her father, the one who isn’t a good man.
She can’t get that thought of her head when she meets him. This man who is unfamiliar, who isn’t warm or loving in any sense of the word. She doesn’t think it’s his fault; he just doesn’t seem to know what to do with her, with a kid.
He’s out late sometimes. He has lady friends over. At ten she learns to raise herself, more or less. He’s unreliable.
But he’s not a bad man. Her mother was wrong on that. He’s just not cut out to be a father.
And they both know it.
He admits to it too, before she turns eleven. Says he’s got a friend in Los Angeles; she’d be better suited to live with him. This man could take better care of her.
It’s weird that she doesn’t feel any real sadness as she leaves him. He’s like an uncle, maybe more of a friend. She doesn’t think of him as a father; maybe it’s better that way, she can’t be disappointed that way.
The man in Los Angeles...well that’s an entirely different ballgame.
She’s just starting to notice things that kids don’t notice. Things like there’s a liquor cabinet, but it’s empty and dusty, and he doesn’t even like the smell of alcohol. A recovering alcoholic she guesses. Things like he can obsessive about the smallest details. He’s a control freak. Things like he doesn’t like planes. He had a bad past experience.
When she turns fourteen she learns about Oceanic Flight 815 and ends up in a screaming match with him because no one ever told her. Not her mother, not her father, not him.
It feels a little bit like betrayal.
But he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore then they did and she’s starting to care about him, because he’s always there, he takes care of her, he is reliable, and so she doesn’t push him. Doesn’t push him past teary-eyed.
When she turns fifteen he goes back to the alcohol and she empties out every bottle he brings into the house. He never retaliates; he’s better than that. But he drinks, this she knows, and he’s not going to stop again unless he wants to. It’s not for her to change.
From what she understands, according to the woman who comes by every now and then, small and blonde and pretty, this isn’t the excess from before. It isn’t as bad. It could be worse.
So she learns to deal. She’s always been independent anyways. He still stays; he’s still there. And this is the most stability she’s had in...forever.
She graduates high school, high marks, and he pays for college, not far away, because she wants to be able to come here, to come to this place she’s called home for almost a decade now.
She does this because she’s almost afraid to be on her own, to lose that connection. Because people die or leave her, and he’s the only one who hasn’t and that holds her to him. This man, with a slight drinking problem and control issues. And he seems better when she’s around; his mood improves, he drinks less. She gives him something to take care of, responsibility, and she thinks he needs that.
So really, she’s only protecting him. That’s what she tells herself.
And when people ask this girl, this girl named Clementine, born in Iowa, raised in New Mexico, then Tennessee, then California, who her family is, the only name that comes to mind is his. This man, named Jack.