How the Light Gets In
Title: How the Light Gets In
Author: Cassie! Aka pinkichan
Pairing: Ryan gen
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Ryan’s never been outside, he reads books from a time long before he was born and he closes his eyes and imagines he’s one of the characters, someone who can run through a field, can swim in an ocean, can just stand outside and breathe the air. But outside became something that ceased to be by the time Ryan was born. He’s not sure what the dangers that lurk outside are; he just knows the rules; don’t go outside or you’re sure to be dead within minutes.
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me and this is all totally fake
Warning: minor non-graphic character death
Authors Notes: This was inspired by this post on we_are_cities
There’s a tiny crack in the stone wall of the basement, a hole where the concrete is chipping and falling away. Ryan sits with his back against the wall; next to the wall with the crack in it. If he looks up he sees a thin line of sunlight filtering in through the hole in the deep dark stone, the ray of bright warm light shoots like a dart through the darkness and points to a spot on the hard rough granite floor.
Ryan raises his fingers and lets them fall into the beam of white-gold light. It changes the color of his skin a little; brightens up the pale spots and for a moment Ryan feels warm. There are no windows down here but with this little bit of light Ryan feels like he might know what outside feels like. Through the crack in the gray stone he can smell fresh air, warm and clean and not at all stale and stuffy.
He watches the beam of light for a long, long time. There are little pieces of dust that dance above him, beautiful and dirty all at the same time. Ryan rests his head against his shoulder and sits against the wall. If he stays still eventually the beam falls on his knees, glowing spots against the dark dingy fabric. He traces the spots and pretends that he’s warm all over, that he’s outside lying on soft green grass, staring at a sky that’s blue and not just dark wooden boards that make up his ceiling.
Ryan’s never been outside, he reads books from a time long before he was born and he closes his eyes and imagines he’s one of the characters, someone who can run through a field, can swim in an ocean, can just stand outside and breathe the air. But outside became something that ceased to be by the time Ryan was born. He’s not sure what the dangers that lurk outside are; he just knows the rules; don’t go outside or you’re sure to be dead within minutes.
Ryan wasn’t always alone in this house. He used to live with his mother and father. His mother hated the world they lived in and often complained about the warnings, the invisible ‘big brothers’ who told them no, who forbade them from going out and living. One day when Ryan was thirteen his mother had been in the kitchen and then quiet, and suddenly she was gone. Ryan looked out the front window and he saw his mother taking tentative steps out into the green, green grass of their front yard.
Ryan’s throat closed but he still ran to the den, to his father and told him what his mother was doing. His father, wide eyed and breathing fast, he ran to the front of the house, peered out the same window Ryan had and without a second thought threw open the front door. He had screamed Ryan’s mother’s name and she had stopped out in the street now, turning back to look at her husband.
His father hesitated for just a second; he told Ryan to close the door and not to follow and then he ran outside as well. Ryan saw his father catch his mother around the waist and he tried to lead her back to the house but she fought him, she wanted to get away. Ryan watched out the window, his breath fogging up the glass. He didn’t know what was outside but suddenly things got dark and Ryan couldn’t see, and Ryan couldn’t hear.
He woke up on the floor of his kitchen and when he stumbled back to the window and looked for his parents, his eyes scanning the green, green grass. He found them, dead upon the lawn.
Since that day Ryan’s lived in the house alone. He reads and he travels around the house sometimes but never his parent’s room, never the front room. He’s too afraid to look out the window, to see the skeletons of his parents or worse, if the skeletons are gone that means someone or something had been out in his front yard. Its things he’d rather not know.
Ryan spends most of his time in the basement, crowded in corners and reading with the dim glow from the light in the room. And the crack, Ryan watches the small crack, the tiny chipping hole. It’s the spot of light in the dark of his life, of his home. Ryan sometimes sits so the light hits his face, he’ll sit that way till the beam of light dies away and sometimes Ryan isn’t sure if it’s the darkness of night or if it’s the same kind of darkness that killed his parents but he closes his eyes tighter against the dark, knees to his chest.
Ryan takes solace in the fact that even though it’s dark right now, the light will always return.
Author: Cassie! Aka pinkichan
Pairing: Ryan gen
Rating: pg-13
Summary: Ryan’s never been outside, he reads books from a time long before he was born and he closes his eyes and imagines he’s one of the characters, someone who can run through a field, can swim in an ocean, can just stand outside and breathe the air. But outside became something that ceased to be by the time Ryan was born. He’s not sure what the dangers that lurk outside are; he just knows the rules; don’t go outside or you’re sure to be dead within minutes.
Disclaimer: They don’t belong to me and this is all totally fake
Warning: minor non-graphic character death
Authors Notes: This was inspired by this post on we_are_cities
There’s a tiny crack in the stone wall of the basement, a hole where the concrete is chipping and falling away. Ryan sits with his back against the wall; next to the wall with the crack in it. If he looks up he sees a thin line of sunlight filtering in through the hole in the deep dark stone, the ray of bright warm light shoots like a dart through the darkness and points to a spot on the hard rough granite floor.
Ryan raises his fingers and lets them fall into the beam of white-gold light. It changes the color of his skin a little; brightens up the pale spots and for a moment Ryan feels warm. There are no windows down here but with this little bit of light Ryan feels like he might know what outside feels like. Through the crack in the gray stone he can smell fresh air, warm and clean and not at all stale and stuffy.
He watches the beam of light for a long, long time. There are little pieces of dust that dance above him, beautiful and dirty all at the same time. Ryan rests his head against his shoulder and sits against the wall. If he stays still eventually the beam falls on his knees, glowing spots against the dark dingy fabric. He traces the spots and pretends that he’s warm all over, that he’s outside lying on soft green grass, staring at a sky that’s blue and not just dark wooden boards that make up his ceiling.
Ryan’s never been outside, he reads books from a time long before he was born and he closes his eyes and imagines he’s one of the characters, someone who can run through a field, can swim in an ocean, can just stand outside and breathe the air. But outside became something that ceased to be by the time Ryan was born. He’s not sure what the dangers that lurk outside are; he just knows the rules; don’t go outside or you’re sure to be dead within minutes.
Ryan wasn’t always alone in this house. He used to live with his mother and father. His mother hated the world they lived in and often complained about the warnings, the invisible ‘big brothers’ who told them no, who forbade them from going out and living. One day when Ryan was thirteen his mother had been in the kitchen and then quiet, and suddenly she was gone. Ryan looked out the front window and he saw his mother taking tentative steps out into the green, green grass of their front yard.
Ryan’s throat closed but he still ran to the den, to his father and told him what his mother was doing. His father, wide eyed and breathing fast, he ran to the front of the house, peered out the same window Ryan had and without a second thought threw open the front door. He had screamed Ryan’s mother’s name and she had stopped out in the street now, turning back to look at her husband.
His father hesitated for just a second; he told Ryan to close the door and not to follow and then he ran outside as well. Ryan saw his father catch his mother around the waist and he tried to lead her back to the house but she fought him, she wanted to get away. Ryan watched out the window, his breath fogging up the glass. He didn’t know what was outside but suddenly things got dark and Ryan couldn’t see, and Ryan couldn’t hear.
He woke up on the floor of his kitchen and when he stumbled back to the window and looked for his parents, his eyes scanning the green, green grass. He found them, dead upon the lawn.
Since that day Ryan’s lived in the house alone. He reads and he travels around the house sometimes but never his parent’s room, never the front room. He’s too afraid to look out the window, to see the skeletons of his parents or worse, if the skeletons are gone that means someone or something had been out in his front yard. Its things he’d rather not know.
Ryan spends most of his time in the basement, crowded in corners and reading with the dim glow from the light in the room. And the crack, Ryan watches the small crack, the tiny chipping hole. It’s the spot of light in the dark of his life, of his home. Ryan sometimes sits so the light hits his face, he’ll sit that way till the beam of light dies away and sometimes Ryan isn’t sure if it’s the darkness of night or if it’s the same kind of darkness that killed his parents but he closes his eyes tighter against the dark, knees to his chest.
Ryan takes solace in the fact that even though it’s dark right now, the light will always return.