Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena]

Ena Mena Mina Mo
Hunter

76 POSTS
last seen May 20, 2012 9:37:20 GMT -5

The late mouse gets the cheese.

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Feb 20, 2012 19:04:00 GMT -5

Post by Ena Mena Mina Mo on Feb 20, 2012 19:04:00 GMT -5

I fall asleep more quickly than I have in years. Part of the reason I'm so cranky all the time is because I spend half the night wishing I were asleep but not getting any rest. And, in the winter, I'm usually cold. I remember hazy-edged snippets from the night--like lying face down at one point, arms and legs sprawled across most of the mattress--but mostly, I just remember being....comfortable. Warm and blessedly at ease. I think this is why, when I finally blinked my eyes and realized that it's sometime in the early afternoon, and I've missed my usual morning wake-up by at least six hours, I just close my eyes again.

They don't stay closed for long of course--I quickly realize that one reason I'm so warm is because Sentry's arm is wrapped close around my waist, my back is nestled into his chest, and I can even feel his slow breath in my hair. My eyebrows lift by a margin of millimeters as I gaze, bemused, down at that arm. It has a fine layer of hair on it that I don't remember seeing there before. My first impulse is to stab an elbow backward into his ribs, but....it's so warm and I just feel more comfortable and content than I have since the last time I got drunk, only this time I don't have to worry about a hangover. So I close my eyes with a sigh and let it be.

A loud banging sound startles me out of the languor I've just started sinking back into, and I jump. Nobody ever comes to my door; it never gets knocked on. And I am certainly never around when it is knocked on. Or sleeping and caught off guard by it.

Sentry doesn't move, but I can clearly hear him grumble, “No way in hell, am I answering that.”

I sigh, remove my pillow from underneath my head and slam it down over my head. "Ignore it and maybe it'll go away...." A likely occurrence.....if it weren't for the fact that the few who do visit me aren't the type to be turned away by my petulant tendency to ignore people when I'm not in the mood to chat. The banging continues, and finally, growling, I throw myself out of the bed and throw the pillow on top of Sentry. Not meanly, though. "It's not your house; I'll get it." I throw the bedroom door open and stomp, barefooted, through the small, drafty house to heave the front door open too.

It's my parents. Colorful ribbons of profanity dance in my inner eye. My dad and I get along....everywhere but where Sentry's involved. My mom and I usually get along.....except where Sentry's involved. They're on two ends of the same spectrum, my parents: Dad thinks Sentry should have punched me back for punching him, and that I'm a backstabbing Judas for hitting him in the first place--my mother thinks more along the lines of how Sentry's a man-ho for trying to kiss me when I 'clearly' did not want to be kissed, and he should just go fall in a hole. Every single time I see my dad, he brings up Sentry. Every single time my dad brings up Sentry, my mom fights with my dad. Every single time my mom fights with my dad, I fight with her, and then my dad fights with me for fighting with her.

Hence the colorful parade of profanity ticker tape fluttering around in my now-miserable head.

"Dena!" My dad crows, wrapping me into a tight hug and releasing me. "Did you see that Sentry's back?"

Well you see, I kind of accidentally slept with him. But not in the way you'd interpret that..... "Yeah, Dad, I saw."

"Why should she care if that boy's back in town, Harold?" my mom hisses at him.

"Try: because he was my best friend since conception, Mom," I say somewhat testily. I return my attention to my dad, fidgeting uncomfortably, my bare feet already going numb with the winter's chill as it creeps in the door and wraps its icy tendrils around my legs. "Did you need something, Dad?" It's abrupt, I know, but he's used to it.

"Oh no, no, we just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing. See if you've talked to Sentinel since he got back about a month ago."

"Of course she hasn't, Harold," my mother snaps. "She should just stay away from that boy."

"She should just do whatever the hell she feels like without interference from the two of you," I interject, making shooing motions and hoping they'll get off my porch before I die of frostbite.

Last Edit: Feb 20, 2012 19:13:42 GMT -5 by Ena Mena Mina Mo

Hadena Erynnis Sonoran (22yrs, D10)
Astor Blue Yellowfin (16yrs, D4)

Eastern Orange
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527 POSTS
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"I'm Scandinavian, God dammit. We love to be naked!"

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Feb 20, 2012 19:33:42 GMT -5

Post by Eastern Orange on Feb 20, 2012 19:33:42 GMT -5

With Hadena gone, there is no good reason to stay in bed. I sit up and rub the grogginess from my eyes. "Morning 'Nelope." I slur. I tug the blanket she is chewing on out of her mouth. "No, you silly girl." I expect Hadena to come back right away, but when she doesn't I sigh warily and get all the way out of the bed. I peek down the hall, but I can't see who she is talking to. But I can hear their voices, and I recognize them immediately. How could I not? All those times reprimanding, or telling me to say grace at the dinner table, or soothing me when I was hurt. It was her parents. I groan, picturing my disheveled hair and unshaven scruffy face. Not the time to meet her parent's after all these years. Ah well. I make my way down the hall to greet them.

"She should just stay away from that boy." I hear as I approach. Her other's words sting a bit, but I guess it's not entirely false. I plaster my most charming grin on my face and appear in the doorway. "Delia! Come on, don't be like that!" I look past her and at the friendly bespectacled face of Harold. "Hey there you old billy goat! Long time no see, eh?" I shiver. "Uh, maybe you guys should come inside. It's quite chilly out there, and I would love to catch up." I step aside, and gesture inside the house.

Ena Mena Mina Mo
Hunter

76 POSTS
last seen May 20, 2012 9:37:20 GMT -5

The late mouse gets the cheese.

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Feb 20, 2012 21:46:47 GMT -5

Post by Ena Mena Mina Mo on Feb 20, 2012 21:46:47 GMT -5

"Sentry, m'boy!" My dad throws his arms open wide to embrace Sentry too. "Have you proposed yet?" He jerked his thumb toward me, and I feel like falling down into a hole myself. A really, deep one, with water at the bottom, and a cave that I can hide in, and absolutely no light for anyone to see me by. I rub my forehead wearily with one hand, all of my warm contentedness gone.

My mother's face--at the sight of Sentry, and all the lovely, scandalous implications of his presence--sours and shrivels around the mouth like an apple left out in the sun for far too long, the skin trying to hold itself together to keep from splitting, but the flesh withering and contracting until it's all but dust. When Sentry invites my parents--my parents--into my house, I can't keep from rolling my eyes. Really? Is this really necessary? I mutter rude things to myself as I shut the door, making a point to shut it quietly as if the understatement of my emotions on this current situation can be forced out if I just pretend--somewhat--that they're not there. Chances are this is a useless effort, but hey, I'll try just about anything once. Well, not really. It kind of depends on who's asking. And why they're asking me to do it. And what it is they're asking me to do....

There's no table, no chairs, so our situation really couldn't get more awkward. I rub my cold arms, wondering what I'm going to do with myself until this awful visit is over already, and finally remember the faded red cardigan--meant for someone much bigger than I am--that's hanging on the coathook behind the door, and slide my arms into it, buttoning a few buttons unevenly in the front. I'm too lazy to do it up neatly, not for a garment that's going over the clothes I wore and slept in yesterday, and is at least two generations old to begin with. I think my grandmother might have made this when she was a girl. I'm still cold, so I rub my arms again and shove my feet into my boots. "I'm going to go milk the goats." I know they won't let me go. Well, my mother would. But my dad will find a way to phrase something or other to make it sound like I'm abandoning them to a fate worse than a frigid Hell if I do walk out that door, if even for a moment, and if he doesn't, Sentry sure will. But a girl's got to try, hasn't she?

Hadena Erynnis Sonoran (22yrs, D10)
Astor Blue Yellowfin (16yrs, D4)

Eastern Orange
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"I'm Scandinavian, God dammit. We love to be naked!"

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Mar 21, 2012 20:23:39 GMT -5

Post by Eastern Orange on Mar 21, 2012 20:23:39 GMT -5

I let Harold pull me into a hug, and grin as he asks me if I’ve proposed to Hedena. I chuckle, and look over at her, amused by the look of discomfort on her face. “Oh, Harold, you are so silly. You know we are just friends.” I brush off his question, letting the opportunity to mess with Hadena slip by. “I’ve just sold the farm and had nowhere else to go, so she has decided to take me in.” Harold looks surprised by my news. “Really?” He asks, incredulous. He looks as if he is about to continue, but Hadena interrupts him with her announcement of milking the goats.

I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have told her father that I had sold the farm. He might ask questions that I’d have a hard time answering. I jump on the opportunity leave. “I’ll go with you Dena!” I say going over to the door and opening it. I address her parents. “I’m sure there is something to drink around here.” I look are the sparse room, realizing that there was nowhere for them to sit. “Uh, we got rid of the furniture… more room for activities!” I grin and grab Hadena’s hand, yanking her out of the house with me.

“I didn’t mean to invite them in. I guess I was just taken aback at what your mother said, and wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know she hated me.” I still held onto Hadena’s hand, so I tug her away from her property, toward the woods in the distance where we used to play as kids. I didn’t feel like milking goats, and I didn’t want to return to the judgmental eyes of her mom. “Want to go looking for our old fort?” I ask, a mischievous smile playing across my lips.

Ena Mena Mina Mo
Hunter

76 POSTS
last seen May 20, 2012 9:37:20 GMT -5

The late mouse gets the cheese.

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Mar 25, 2012 18:27:29 GMT -5

Post by Ena Mena Mina Mo on Mar 25, 2012 18:27:29 GMT -5

Sentry grabs me by the hand and yanks me out the door, down the steps, before I even have a chance to smack him. "We got rid of the furniture?" I snarl at him, snapping my hand away from his. "Unless you've forgotten, this is my house and that is my food you've just invited them to! I'm a bit possessive, unless you've forgotten that too," I mutter ungraciously. As far as I can tell, there's nothing about the two of us that he's forgotten, but I'm not in the mood to be nice, or even truthful. It can be fun to accuse people of things that aren't their fault--they flail and sputter and look like dying fish when they're trying to indignantly straighten their pride. But hey, their pride must have been soft to begin with if a small, truthless barb can elicit so much reaction from them.

Granted, I usually don't ever accuse Sentry of things that I'm not accusing in jest. Usually it's just the people that I genuinely dislike who are granted the privilege of landing themselves on my mean list. Unfortunately, that list seems to be getting longer and ever more tired as the years go on.

And whose fault is that? I want to ask. Because Sentry is currently the one annoying me, I want to say that it's his fault. But I know it isn't. And I'm too tired myself to go and blame the person who went and brought all this damnation into her already-sparse house to begin with.

I snatch up a tin pail from beside the house, settled in the snow. "She doesn't hate you," I say wearily, rubbing my eyes. "She more hates the fact that my dad likes you and she thinks that I don't. It's causing 'familial discord' to have three people all on what she sees as opposing sides of a battleground."

Sentry asks about the fort, and I pause at the corner of the goat pen, where the gate is already half open, my hand hesitating on the latch before I close myself inside. "Our what?" I ask, taken aback. But then I shake my head. "I have too much work to do." Work that nobody else is willing to help me with, but that's probably my fault too. It's true that I don't have the time to wander with my own thoughts these days, but honestly I would love to go scouring the thin woods with him. Just like we used to. The bare trees stand like sentries of their own, and when I look up at the sky I can't tell anymore what's up and what's down because the dark branches against the overcast winter sky look like roots thrust deep into the hills and valleys that the white-gray clouds are making above us. Sometimes I feel like I'm flying when I look up at that sky through the trees. Sometimes I feel like I'm falling. But usually it's flying.

I stalk over to the cramped, slant-roofed shed where the goats stay in relative warmth for the chilled winter nights and throw the door open, hopping quickly up onto the railing of the fence just next to the door so I'm not trampled as the sprightly animals stampede for the snow inside the small pasture. I throw a few bucketfuls of grain into one trough, and work to pump half-frozen water up through the half-frozen well, all the while wondering why I couldn't always tell the difference between flying and falling.

Last Edit: Mar 25, 2012 18:28:05 GMT -5 by Ena Mena Mina Mo

Hadena Erynnis Sonoran (22yrs, D10)
Astor Blue Yellowfin (16yrs, D4)

Eastern Orange
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"I'm Scandinavian, God dammit. We love to be naked!"

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Mar 25, 2012 19:25:01 GMT -5

Post by Eastern Orange on Mar 25, 2012 19:25:01 GMT -5

I had been in a good mood. Had been. Past tense. Well, fuck. Can I not interact with Hadena and remain in a good mood? I make an annoyed noise in the back of my throat and rub my hands tiredly over my face, trying to find my happy place, which is probably a waste of time, since I haven’t been able to find a happy place in years.
Her little outburst over me telling her parents to help themselves set my teeth on edge.

“What’s your problem?” I snap back, exasperated. “I’m sorry I made an excuse to your parents to explain why your house is empty. Should I have told them the truth? ‘Oh yea, your daughter is floundering out here all alone, so much so she had to sell her furniture to get money, maybe you should come live with her because she can barely support herself.’ Is that what you would have preferred? I was helping you Hadena. Which is what I told you I’d do yesterday.” It’s only been one day, and already we are at each other’s throats. We are going to have to find some way to coexist or this isn’t going to work.

I watch as she works, not moving to help her. “How am I supposed to help you if you’re just going to rub the fact that this is your property in my face? If you’re that possessive about your stupid nonexistent furniture, how are you going to be if I use one of your towels, or leave my shirt in the bathroom or something? Am I even allowed to touch one of your goats.” I may be blowing this a bit out of proportion, but I don’t need her reminding me that I’m essentially squatting on her property. “I’m here to give you a hand, but if you are just going to be a petulant little brat, who can’t accept that she needs help, then I can go. You didn’t have to deign to take me in.” I cross my arms over my chest, and left my head, trying to look impassive, like if she just turned around and said ‘to hell with you’, I wouldn’t care. “All I’m doing is trying to help.” I grumble, slightly resentful of her attitude toward me.

When did she turn in to such an abrasive person? Well…. Since when has she been that way to me? Yea, we’ve had our tussles in the past, but not over something so petty. Why is she treating me like this? I know we haven’t really mended our relationship to what it used to be, and we might never be able to, but I thought she’d respect me enough to not treat me like I’m the enemy, especially after we have talked through some of the shit that went down.

Ena Mena Mina Mo
Hunter

76 POSTS
last seen May 20, 2012 9:37:20 GMT -5

The late mouse gets the cheese.

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] Mar 25, 2012 21:31:35 GMT -5

Post by Ena Mena Mina Mo on Mar 25, 2012 21:31:35 GMT -5

"An excuse?" I snap back, staring up at him in aghast wonder from where I'm bent over the pump. "Yeah, your selective word choice is really going to help. In what part of your mind does it make sense to joke like that in front of my mother?" I stalk over to a three-legged stool and throw it down into the snow, slamming the legs into the frozen ground. We're lucky I forgot to let the dogs out, or they'd have been even more sore toward Sentry than I was. My father helped me train those dogs--they don't like raised voices unless the voice is mine.

But Sentry isn't finished. Will we ever be finished with each other? Do I want us to be? What would finished even look like to a pair of misfits like us? "Yeah, because trying to get me to ignore my work and then standing around like a lout and just watching me do it is so very helpful," I seethed, rubbing my hands together in a vain attempt to slightly warm them before grabbing a short goat by the horn and dragging her over to me. The goats are used to this part, and only the newcomers fight me at the milkings now. "Yeah, I offered up my house to you, Sentry," I bite out. "Not to them! Just because I'm fine with you living here doesn't mean you can just go and invite other people over! How would you feel if I invited over your uncle while I was at your house, hm?" It's a sharp spot with Sentry, and I know I shouldn't stray anywhere near it, but I do. Even though I could barely support myself even after four years of living outside my parents' house, I still won't ask them for help; I still walk out on them when they come for a visit. Even though Sentry might end up being my financial salvation, and mental too if we don't kill each other first, I still find his most painful spots and press them repeatedly. Do I do it just because I can? Just to prove how well I know him, how easily I can manipulate him? Is my attempt to force him away so valiant as a foolish attempt to protect myself from my past's best friend? Or do I just enjoy hurting the ones that I love?

I don't think that I want to know the answers to these questions. I hurt myself, too.

I struggle to even my tone, knowing that we both set each other off because we know each other so well, were once such good friends. I level my tone too much, I think, and it comes out toneless when I say, "If you want to help, there's three more buckets at the edge of the fence. When they're full, dump them in the barrel and start over." Sentry knows how to milk, I hope. I think. He's always been a clever fellow, catching on to small details more quickly than I when it comes to actions. The only details I can find are vulnerabilities. Oh, what a lovely person I am.

Suddenly I remember some of the things that have always made us different, but that somehow made us get along so well. Sentry was better with people, I better with things and objects. He always put things back together, whereas I was always better at finding the quickest and easiest ways to take them apart. He could admit when someone else was right, and I could say that I was sorry.

I ought to say that I was sorry now. Sentry's humor....it's always bordered on the black side of playful. I know that. I shouldn't have shrieked at him like that, not when it was really the way my mother was looking at him that made me so angry.... It's not like she understands us, understands what we've done to each other over the years, the good and the bad.

Finally, I sigh, shooing the first of too many goats away. "Sentry, I'm sorry." But I won't say he's right. "It's not you I'm mad at." But I won't admit how angry my mother and I make each other. I won't drag him into my petty, family squabbles.

Last Edit: Mar 25, 2012 21:32:00 GMT -5 by Ena Mena Mina Mo

Hadena Erynnis Sonoran (22yrs, D10)
Astor Blue Yellowfin (16yrs, D4)

Eastern Orange
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[M:-100]

527 POSTS
last seen Apr 19, 2019 19:32:23 GMT -5

"I'm Scandinavian, God dammit. We love to be naked!"

Shouldn't Have Played with Fire [Ena] May 18, 2012 18:55:58 GMT -5

Post by Eastern Orange on May 18, 2012 18:55:58 GMT -5

I look at her with a puzzled expression. I made a dirty joke in front of her mother? When? I run my conversation through my head, but I still don't understand where she is coming from. Then it hits me. And I burst out laughing. "Oh my god." I choke out breathlessly. "Little, little Dena bird. You dear thing. I don't know whether to be amused that you are so sensitive, or angry that you think me such a scoundrel that I meant 'activities' in a naughty way." I burst out laughing again. "Wow, are you always thinking 'bout sex or something? You need to get laid, if that's the case. What about Pete? If I remember correctly, he always had a little crush on you." I succumb to another fit of laughter at the image of dorky Pete and Hadena together.

I had trouble keeping back the tide of giggles as Hadena continued, her absurdity was enough to lift my mood. But, of course, Hadena yanked that right from me and brought my anger back again with just the mention of my uncle. The mirth I feel literally shrivels and dies, and I clench my jaw. "Don't you dare bring that motherfucker up." I snarl, my voice ragged with aggression. "He didn't come for a social visit. He came to take my farm. Your parents are here to check up on you, because they love you, you selfish little brat. I wish my mother was still here to barge into my life unexpectedly, but she can't because she is dead. At least I still have my fath - Oh wait. No I don't. He abandoned me to a failing farm. The only family I have left just dumped me on the street! How about you get off your high horse and be thankful you still got parents."

Hmm. Is this me feeling sorry for myself? It's come to this? I didn't want to acknowledge how betrayed, how hurt I felt by my father's leaving. I've been keeping it locked away somewhere, and perhaps seeing Hadena's parents coming to be, well, parents, has dragged some of those feelings out of the dark. I have no clue how this argument veered down this road. I turn my back on Hadena and cross my arms over my head. I take deep breathes, trying to calm myself down. Hadena hit more than just a nerve with mentioning my uncle, and comparing that situation with hers, she set off a chain of reactions that is likely to see me beating the shit out of something.

"It's not you I'm mad at." I hear Hadena say behind me, and I give a bark of laughter. It's bitter and humorless. "Well, that's great to know! Too fucking bad I'm mad at you. When will you learn to keep your fucking mouth shut? Do you think I want to hate you? Do you think I like being filled with this anger all the time? No. I don't. But for reason, you see fit to push me and push me," my voice grows harsher and harsher, until I'm practically spitting the words. I turn around and bend over so my face is inches from her's. "and one day, you'll push me a little too hard and I'll turn around and push back and we'll see who breaks first." I give her a sneer.

And then.

I realize what I just said.

I threatened her.

Hadena. The woman I haven't stopped thinking about, ever.

I would never, ever, physically harm Hadena. I know that. But I do know how to be cruel, especially to someone I know as well as Hadena. And since she presumably cares for me in some small way because of our friendship, I just have that much more power over her. I could make her hurt. I could wound her like no one else could.

But that’s a double edged sword.

That's what she has been doing to me, I realize. She used my uncle to cut clean through my barricades and stab me right where it hurts. Wow. The betrayal rises like bile and my throat, and all the blind rage in me hardens and crystallizes into resentment. “Have you become a sadist in my absence? Do you like to make people squirm? Does it give you a rush of pleasure to have the power to hurt someone?” My pride burns. “I can play that game too.”

I know what words are coming. I feel them crawling up my throat like the nasty ugly creatures they are. I need to stop them. I have to. But my pride and fury and hurt and frustration fuel them, obliterating any scrap of logic or mercy I had. “I know why you don’t want to see your parents. You don’t want to look into their eyes and see the disappointment there; disappointment that you aren’t your brother.” The last two words burn as they leave my mouth. “How does it feel to live in a dead man’s shadow, huh? It must suck for your parents to have their favorite child die and be stuck with a surly, snarky little good-for-nothing like you.” I want to stop, but the dam has broken and these foul words just gush from my mouth quicker than I can think. “They hate you for not being him, and I don’t blame them. You can do nothing right. Look at this farm! It’s going to shit!”

I shout the last syllable, exaggerating the silence that follows. There’s a ringing in my ears, and a pounding in my head but all of that fades away under the horror that consumes me.

Okay. All Hadena did was stab me once. What I did was stab her and twist the blade around nice and good for a few minutes and then kick her while she writhed in agony. Shit. I immediately regret everything, the feelings that drove me to say those things are completely forgotten and all I feel is remorse and anxiety and a want to kill myself. “I…” There isn’t really anything I can say, is there? Might as well try, there is always the off chance that she believes me. “I didn’t mean it… I really didn’t.”

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