Cursed Fables - Darcy’s Origin
It’s that time of the generation again! And look! Twice in one week, look at me go :P
So Darcy is going to be a big part of the end of the generation, and although I don’t know what her involvement in it will be yet, I figured her past needed to be told, so hopefully we could understand how tough yet vulnerable she can be.
At the end of the day, she is the first human to enter the Tale family since…..well a long time ago. So of course she’s not going to be as ‘grand’ as other new additions have been…anyway, I hope you all enjoy!
Why? Why was I here? It was stupid of me to agree to do this, Chris would never see things how I did. He’d view this as the biggest betrayal ever.
And maybe it was.
He’s done so much for me, always had my best interests at heart. Hell, even when I sprang the fact I was leaving on him, he volunteered to join me without even a little time to think it over. He must have known we were both throwing everything away.
But he had said it was okay….as long as we had each other it would be worth it. He’d never let me get hurt like that again.
So why? Why was he the one that was causing me the most pain?
I look over at Kieran, wait Calen and feel just a bit more grounded. He reminds me a lot of how Chris used to act. He’s extremely honest, and really rubbish at hiding his emotions. He’s unbearably shy and that only makes me want to tease him about it.
But they are definitely not the same person. Calen is assertive, brave and it appears to be his very instinct to do the right thing. Honestly the rather large stretch at him being an agent of some sort isn’t that hard to believe at all. It suits him.
It made me feel all the more guilty for breaking into this place at all. Whatever we took must have been very important. Now all I had to do was try to let everyone involved know that were innocent. We’d never wish anyone harm.
“Calen?” I asked him and he immediately looked over at me, worry etched deep into his eyes. Before we go in there and I explain everything that I know….I think it would probably be better if you knew a little more about….about our situation.”
He nods silently, yet reaches over to give my hand a quick squeeze, I sneer at him, yet squeeze back anyway. Under any normal circumstance I’d shrug the affection off. But this was anything but normal.
“Okay….well, Chris and I met each other a long way back. Not since birth but…since we were young. We were neighbours in fact.”
My childhood in itself was pretty ordinary. My parents were high school sweethearts, and did everything by the book. Dating, marriage,employment they had everything planned.
Except me. They’d planned to have children, but not before they were ready. And when I came along, neither of them earned enough money. There wasn’t space for me to have nursery, and Mum had to stop working because childcare would be an issue.
If that bothered my mother than she was very good at hiding it. She’d shower me with affection every moment she could. I loved her to pieces and she was always willing to let me play and explore as I wanted.
Looking back, I feel responsible for things not turning out the way she planned, but I’m not going to say I wish I hadn’t been born.
Dad on the other hand…he had moments where he treated me like something precious, the princess that he always claimed I was.
But most of the time he tried to get me walking and talking as quickly as possible. If I stumbled while learning to walk he’d all but yank me back up to me feet and encourage me to do so again.
He’s always wanted me to improve, to learn and grow. I had a theory that he wanted me as intelligent and able as possible so I could pay back all the expenses I cost them while growing up.
At first I didn’t let it get to me really, after all, I thought it normal. I worked hard at school and was among the top of my class. I established at a young age that I was ‘artistic’ I loved to draw and create, no material was to messy for me to use. Dad urged me to act more like a girl.
Yet I couldn’t deny who I was. Mum supported me at least. I was happy in general…but I was lonely. I hadn’t managed to connect with anyone in my school. I had an imaginary friend for a time, and that made it bearable.
And that was when our new neighbours moved in.
Chris is five years older than me. He was eleven when we met, and I six. The age gap was never a concern for either of us. My parents had dragged me round to introduce ourselves, and I hadn’t really bothered with him. That evening he caught me playing by myself in the sand and asked what I was doing.
He didn’t call me names or interrupt me. He just asked to watch. And he did. For hours he must have watched me construct the perfect sand castle, not asking to play once.
After I met him my imaginary friend faded, I can’t remember what they looked like. I didn’t need them anymore, because Chris was always there.
We were as thick as thieves, I was either round his, or he was playing outside with me. Dad grew concerned about it at first, worried he was a distraction or a bad influence. So I made a deal, I wouldn’t play with him until my homework was done.
So sneakily, I did it in my lunch break. Those were probably the happiest times of my life. The times when I could spend so much time with him, and we had each others backs. He promised we’d always look out for each other.
As the years went by though, Dad pushed me harder and harder. Not only did he expect more from me, but he did all he could to split Chris and I up. Not that it worked.
He reprimanded me over and over again about how I should do more to help out around the house. How I was getting to the age where I should stop playing, stop creating and think about my future.
Slowly my relationship with my father fell apart.
I began to hate him, his ideology, how I was never good enough. Mostly how he tried to deny me the one friend that meant the world to me.
I never asked to be born. I never asked for anything. All I wanted was to be able to do what I loved, with the people I loved. But nothing I did ever changed his mind.
So as I grew up, I grew up hating my father. And in time, that hatred turned towards my mother also, for not sticking up for me.
The older I grew the more upfront and confident I was about acting out against them. My father wanted me to be one thing, so I would be another. I dressed in a way that I knew irritated him for that very reason.
It got me several looks and many comments around town and school but in my own mind it was well worth it. Besides I was happy with how things were headed. My artwork was becoming more refined and detailed…and Chris was still by my side.
“I heard your father yelling last night..is everything okay?” He asked shuffling awkwardly, looking over his shoulder as if my father had magically appeared there.
He made me laugh so often, and it was simple things like that that I needed.
“Mhm, now shush, I need to get the shading right.” He nodded obediently and waited until I had set the brush down to resume speaking. “He wasn’t impressed with my report card. Even though I reached all of my targets for the term. So we clashed.” I wasn’t even bothered by it anymore, I just mentioned it almost in passing.
“Oh right….I’m sure he just wants to give you the best shot at life,” He supplied for me, always looking for the good in the situation. He even defended my dad, when he had no reason to.
“You idiot,” I exclaimed with a laugh. “Why do you insist on doing that?”
“Doing what?” He asked confused.
“Trying to make things seem better than they are. My dad hates me. And I hate him. That’s all it’s ever been but…you insist on trying to prove me otherwise, why?” I asked, moving away from my easel and closer to him.
I’d found myself starting to feel different toward him for a few months. I’d watched other girls in relationships and never seen the appeal before. They all ended up the same, broken after a month or two. But with Chris…I knew him. I knew we were compatible and I’d always suspected he’d had a crush on me.
So slowly…I’d been coming to terms with the fact that I wanted to at least try. If he was willing.
“Because I feel you deserve that much. No more than that, and I can see how much it beats you down when your father tries to change you…I think you’re perfect as you are.” He assured me softly, a shy smile spreading across his face.
That very day his words touched me deeper than anyone had even come close to. Chris had always had my back through everything, there was no one in this world that I trusted me.
So I pulled him closer and we kissed. It was nothing like all of those ridiculous princess stories promised. There was no heavenly choir, no fireworks, just Chris holding me so tenderly I feared I may cry due to the contact. We agreed to become an item and for several blissful months everything was nearly normal in my life.
After we’d been dating for almost a year, we started talking about taking our relationship to the next level. I was well aware how risky it was due to the law. I was over 16, though only just, and due to the large age gap, I wasn’t sure where we stood regarding it.
Not that I cared. Chris and I were hardly strangers to each other, and we were both safe and responsible when together.
I trusted him completely. I quickly realised I was in love with him, for real. And I was certain he loved me too. No one else would be so considerate and at times self sacrificing. He gave up so much for me…
We were careful each and every time…except for one time.
One time was all it took…I realised I was pregnant a few weeks after.
Dad and I had had another argument…only this time I erupted with anger, no longer able to keep all of my anger in. I told my father how much I hated him and how he was never to try to control my life. He’d come home that evening and declared that I was to meet the son of one of his co workers.
Apparently he was a very patient man who would be able to curb my creative and reckless tendencies. That was my last goad. I could live with his disapproval..but for him to try to dictate me?
I’d exploded and then sought Chris for comfort…and things got out of hand.
I felt scared and hopeless, I couldn’t face Chris…so I turned to my mother.
I’d waited until after school and while Dad was at work before I approached my mother. I really didn’t know how to explain everything to her. I had to make her see things from my perspective. She had witnessed my fathers judgement on me first hand. If I just explained everything to her…maybe she’d have my side.
I explained to her how I felt about Chris, about how he had been nothing but good to me and about how careful and responsible we’d been except for the one occasion. I told her how I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to have a child and yet I would feel guilt about not giving this baby a life when I was responsible for giving it the chance.
She appeared to be understanding, she was justifiably shocked, but she told me she loved me no matter what. I begged her not to tell my father for a little while.
But that very night he stormed into my room, all but dragging me out into the living room where my mother was stood, looking down and unable to meet my gaze.
So she didn’t have my back either. I felt crushed. Moreover, it backed me into a corner so I did all I could. I defended myself.
“How could you let this happen? Are you that stupid as to throw everything we worked so hard for away?” He shouted at ne angrily making the anger boil and boil.
“We? What have you ever done besides put me down and try to control me? I am who I am Dad…I want to be an artist not a housewife to a rich businessman. You’ve just never been able to see that!” I argued.
We argued back and forth for what must have been hours, no matter what I presented to him, he denied it. Insisting that all he wanted was the best for me. That included ‘dealing with the situation’ I had gotten myself in. He threatened Chris.
I’m not sure what would have happened if he had reported Chris, honestly I’m not sure if a law was broken. But I knew it would ruin the reputation that he had build since moving here. Unlike me he had many friends, a stable future…neither of us has ever discussed kids. I didn’t want to weigh him down or tie myself to him.
All I know for certain is as soon as my father threatened as much, I broke. I told him that I’d put the baby up for adoption as soon as it was born. I’d cut all communications with Chris, it would be like he’d never existed.
It beat the alternative. Father accepted.
His actions only made me hate him more. I spent most of my pregnancy hating him. Hating both of my parents and wishing I had been born to someone, anyone else. I missed Chris terribly. I hadn’t even gotten to tell him about his child face to face. Only a series of rushed texts in secret. To this day I still don’t really know how he felt about having a child..about the child being given up.
I was indifferent to the child that was inside of me. I felt their presence every so often, but didn’t feel a sense of belonging or protection. That added to my negative thoughts. Did that make me a bad person for not wanting my own child?
2 months after I turned 17 I gave birth to a little boy, his eyes were undeniably Chris’ but as I looked at him I didn’t feel the love I felt for his father. I wanted to give him away as soon as possible, that way I couldn’t bond with him.
I regret it now, in part. He was my son, a part of me. I think in time in a different place I could have learnt to love him.
But where we were headed was no place for a child.
No more than two days after I came back from the hospital, did I set my plan in motion. I packed all I could carry, changed into clothes I’d brought the day before and headed for Chris’ in the dead of night.
On his doorstep I fell into his arms and expressed how much I missed him, what I’d been through…how I wanted out. He didn’t need any time at all to make a decision, he agreed to run away with me. After gathering all he could, the two of us left in a taxi.
I was 17, it was my decision to make, no matter how stupid and rushed it was.
~~~
With what little the two of us had, we rented a small flat in Bridgeport for a few months. It wasn’t what we were used to, but we knew a lot of people in this city had it a lot worse. We’d pass several homeless people throughout the day, and I’d always lean in to Chris’ side. Squeeze his hand and try not to think about it as we walked by.
I offered to try and sell my paintings for some extra cash but Bridgeport proved to be a harder marker to appeal to, the expenses of the materials didn’t make it a worthwhile investment. And Chris did several part time jobs to make sure we could make rent.
But the inevitable soon happened. He sat me down and explained that it didn’t look good. That no way we looked at it, we’d soon be forced to leave. I was terrified of the reality, especially because I knew my pride wouldn’t let me return home.
He made me a promise though, no matter what he wouldn’t allow me to cry or suffer. He’d do everything he physically could for us. And I believed him with no doubt. I saw less and less of him, but for a while our future was a little more secure.
Instead of painting at an easel I took to the streets, it was cheaper and I actually had a flock of fans who followed my work. I got quite a bit from tipping, it turned out some people would pay good money for you to publically humiliate a ex partner or rival in the big city by airing their dirty secrets.
It wasn’t the life I’d envisioned for myself, but I actually enjoyed it. Despite the risks that came with it.
We didn’t get to go out all that often, but we tried to on occasion, it helped the two of us unwind and gave us a small reprieve from worrying for a few hours.
….I think that’s where it went wrong. Again, we were both responsible but when we drank we were a bit vocal. Chris seemed to let me in more on his feelings and inner worries. He apologised often for getting us in this state.
Over and over again I’d tell him to stop.
It was at one of these clubs, that a guy donned in black approached us. From the get go I didn’t like the look of him. But he flashed a legit looking card, telling us both he worked for the owner of the club and had overheard us talking. As it turned out his boss needed some extra hands for a while, and if Chris was interested he could put in a good word.
I asked why I hadn’t been asked, but the guy didn’t even give me a straight answer. Something about a policy about being a certain age, even so. I didn’t like it. It wasn’t right.
Chris pulled me aside.
“I’m going to do it.”
I looked at him, horrified. “Why? Chris we don’t know these people. This sounds shady!” I protested, looking over his shoulder and glaring at the man who had put the idea in his head to begin with.
“I never said I’d accepted the job..I just want to hear him out. If it’s just being a bouncer for a while then…then what’s to worry about?”
I give him a pointed look. “They have organizations for that don’t they? Besides…you could get hurt.” I held on to him tightly. “I’d worry.” I added.
He kissed me softly on the lips. “We need this. Otherwise we could be homeless by the end of the month. Wait for me here, okay?” Reluctantly I agreed knowing there was no stopping him once his mind was made.
He returned to the club 40 minutes later. Nothing seemed different about him, he walked over to me and pulled me close. Then he laughed.
“Darce, this is perfect. Adrian is offering me a month’s rent at a time for doing some pick up and delivery jobs during the busy period. And it’s all local so driving isn’t an issue. Isn’t that great?” He smiled widely at me, but still I was sceptical.
I wanted to meet the guy, I wanted to hear all of this for myself, but Chris said it wasn’t possible. That Adrian was busy and that I had to trust him. So I did.
A few months later and I noticed the changes. Chris became more paranoid. He was gone for days at a time sometimes, and whenever I asked where he was, he’d turn on me. He’d find something in the flat that was misplaced or missing and make strange accusations. We’d fight and soon after he’d come apologise to me in tears.
I thought maybe it was stress and suggested he give up his delivery job. But he refused insisting we needed it, so I let it go on.
He’d often mumble in his sleep too, though I’d never make out what he said. I noticed he had a puncture mark in his upper neck one night. I asked him about it the morning after but he told me it was nothing. He ordered me to drop it.
2 weeks after that and he sat me down in the living room again. This time explaining that his job would take him out of the city…to Sunset Valley. He also explained that his boss insisted that I come with him. That sent alarm bells off for a start. I questioned it and Chris got agitated again saying that he didn’t know why, I just HAD to come. So I did, hoping I could maybe find out what was the trigger for this strange behaviour.
…You can probably work out the rest of it yourself. We arrived, and for a week or so, he left me to my own devices. I studied the area, did a few pieces of street art to make some money…and then I overheard a street performer. He had a beautiful singing voice, but it was his guitar playing that caught my eye, it was so emotional, so honest. I was captivated from the first note of yours that I heard.
The next day Chris told me he needed his help. He was worried that if he messed this assignment up, then he was finished. I was terrified, I’d had horrible illusions of his employer being mafia of some sort…now it looked like an all to real reality. So…I helped him.
We approached a building….this building, and he…yanked the door open. I don’t know how, he’s never been a weightlifter or at all sporty, and we broke in. He seemed to know where all the cameras were, all the patrols. We got to large terminal and then he went looking for some files…files on a girl called Alyssa Upwell. I asked him what all of this was, but it was like he couldn’t hear me. We got what we came for, we left.
I couldn’t sleep after that, I wondered what was going on..what Chris had gotten himself into..but I never got an answer. He barged in one afternoon, told me that he needed my help again. We argued, I told him no. I begged him to tell me what was going on, but he kept stressing over and over again that he couldn’t.
He offered me some weird piece of tech. He explained that it was a DNA scanner, and that it had reacted while he was in town that day. When he saw it was a young boy near enough my age…he asked me to get close with him. To gain his trust…
I don’t know what he wanted me to do after that….I fear what it would have been. I didn’t plan to bond with you as deeply as I did, but during the week all I could think about was the little time I got to be with you. To feel normal, safe, happy. To laugh and joke with you.
It’s stupid…so so stupid. I should have told you what was going on right away but…
I love Chris. Whatever has happened to him…and now I know that….that all of this is real, I know something happened to him…and it’s all my fault. Damn it..I didn’t want to cry. Not here. People are staring.
Calen pulls me closer, he wraps a arm around me, and already I feel grounded. I feel warm and not as isolated as I did before.
“It’s okay Darcy…you’re safe here. And if something unnatural has happened to Chris….the Council will report it..”
I rested against him. Whatever the unnatural thing meant I was prepared to trust in Calen, knowing he honestly had my best interests at heart. No idea why though. Maybe they would be able to figure this all out…but no matter the outcome…I knew my time with Calen is drawing to a close.
…What then?
So there we go, we know a little more about Darcy and a little of how she lived. I know her view of things wasn’t the most detailed, but she doesn’t know all that much, so it’s to be expected. It will all be out in the open soon.
Also…I wonder if any of you picked up the subtle hint in there? ;)