the floating lanterns' gleam {petra/flynn's gang}
Jan 14, 2016 0:39:36 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Jan 14, 2016 0:39:36 GMT -5
Petra Sinelle
"What have I told you, stupid girl! Can't you get anything right?" I'm jolted out of my thoughts as the sharp end of the whisk collides painfully with my side, the smell of burning food filling the kitchen.
"Mother, please, it was an accident, I lost track of time -"
"Hmph. Do you not have a brain or what?" she sneers as she raises the metal tool yet again. "You're always dazing, dunno what's going on in that head of yours, useless idiot." Her next hit is hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, and she glares at me, "Quit crying, you sniveling infant. I said quit it!" She grabs me by the collar and drags me outside in the cold.
"I suppose what you really need is a good old-fashioned time-out. Stay here and reflect until you're ready to act like a big kid again." Behind me, I hear her footsteps as she heads back in and shuts the door, locking it behind her.
I've been stuck in the freezing backyard for what seems like hours, and I know she's just waiting for me to be ready to come knocking on the door with my tail between my legs, so I can apologize for ruining dinner. Before this, the past few weeks had been uneventful, pleasant even, but ever since she got promoted at her job she's been more and more impatient and even when I try to be nice I can't stop all the snide words and angry glances.
I'm not ready. I'm shivering and it's growing dark and cold, but the prospect of sitting here and freezing is starting to seem more tempting than going inside and facing her again, and again, and again. Let the winter weather take care of what I never had the courage to go through myself.
And then I see that thought for the ridiculous farce it is, why ceasing to exist would become a more alluring option than running away. Mother would be worried, if you ran, you know how much she loves you, the thought automatically comes to my head. It would only make it worse, when she catches you again. But District Two is big, and in one selfish moment I realize that I don't have the energy to care about what she feels anymore.
I've had enough. I can't - I can't stay here - I would be better off on my own, the way I've always imagined in my daydreams, with nobody to beat me and nobody to shout at me and nobody to make me feel so depressed all the time. Then I wouldn't be so useless.
She can't see me now, from where she is, and it'll be some time before she comes back screaming at whatever she's still not pleased with. So I climb over the fence and run, my footsteps nearly silent against the wintry ground, and it's not long before I'm deep within the alleyways in the very poorest sections of the district, far enough that she won't find me and drag me home to be beaten again, and only when I stop do I notice how cold and dark it's gotten.
I'm not scared of the dark. The scariest things, after all, are other people, and a stranger could never be as nasty to me as Mother can get when she wants to push my buttons. But the night wind chills me to the bone, my fingers and toes and ears numb from the frozen air. The farther I go, the more dilapidated this section looks.
I haven't thought this through enough. I'm going to have to figure out how to live, and get food, and work if I'm to make it on my own, but for now the night is thrilling and refreshing and free, the abandoned buildings beckoning to be explored.
It's beginning to rain, and I climb into an abandoned brick house, glad to be out of the cold, windy night. Moving through the halls, I attempt to find a cozy corner out of the way of any drafts -
And that's when I realize I'm not alone.
"Mother, please, it was an accident, I lost track of time -"
"Hmph. Do you not have a brain or what?" she sneers as she raises the metal tool yet again. "You're always dazing, dunno what's going on in that head of yours, useless idiot." Her next hit is hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, and she glares at me, "Quit crying, you sniveling infant. I said quit it!" She grabs me by the collar and drags me outside in the cold.
"I suppose what you really need is a good old-fashioned time-out. Stay here and reflect until you're ready to act like a big kid again." Behind me, I hear her footsteps as she heads back in and shuts the door, locking it behind her.
I've been stuck in the freezing backyard for what seems like hours, and I know she's just waiting for me to be ready to come knocking on the door with my tail between my legs, so I can apologize for ruining dinner. Before this, the past few weeks had been uneventful, pleasant even, but ever since she got promoted at her job she's been more and more impatient and even when I try to be nice I can't stop all the snide words and angry glances.
I'm not ready. I'm shivering and it's growing dark and cold, but the prospect of sitting here and freezing is starting to seem more tempting than going inside and facing her again, and again, and again. Let the winter weather take care of what I never had the courage to go through myself.
And then I see that thought for the ridiculous farce it is, why ceasing to exist would become a more alluring option than running away. Mother would be worried, if you ran, you know how much she loves you, the thought automatically comes to my head. It would only make it worse, when she catches you again. But District Two is big, and in one selfish moment I realize that I don't have the energy to care about what she feels anymore.
I've had enough. I can't - I can't stay here - I would be better off on my own, the way I've always imagined in my daydreams, with nobody to beat me and nobody to shout at me and nobody to make me feel so depressed all the time. Then I wouldn't be so useless.
She can't see me now, from where she is, and it'll be some time before she comes back screaming at whatever she's still not pleased with. So I climb over the fence and run, my footsteps nearly silent against the wintry ground, and it's not long before I'm deep within the alleyways in the very poorest sections of the district, far enough that she won't find me and drag me home to be beaten again, and only when I stop do I notice how cold and dark it's gotten.
I'm not scared of the dark. The scariest things, after all, are other people, and a stranger could never be as nasty to me as Mother can get when she wants to push my buttons. But the night wind chills me to the bone, my fingers and toes and ears numb from the frozen air. The farther I go, the more dilapidated this section looks.
I haven't thought this through enough. I'm going to have to figure out how to live, and get food, and work if I'm to make it on my own, but for now the night is thrilling and refreshing and free, the abandoned buildings beckoning to be explored.
It's beginning to rain, and I climb into an abandoned brick house, glad to be out of the cold, windy night. Moving through the halls, I attempt to find a cozy corner out of the way of any drafts -
And that's when I realize I'm not alone.
OOC Notes
troylus
troylus
