kindling old [e m b e r s] // Eagle
Apr 11, 2013 12:40:26 GMT -5
Post by semper on Apr 11, 2013 12:40:26 GMT -5
I’d rather live with broken bones
than lay here all on my own
like a lovesick fool
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Standing in front of the old house you spent so many years in, it feels odd being on the outside and about to request permission to enter. So many things happened behind those splintery walls, both good and bad; often you passed through the door and the thought crossed your mind that you very well may never return to the little rundown house – specifically on reaping days. There had been times where you never saw the house in daylight, and other times where you didn’t have enough money to keep the electricity flowing so all you could do was use candles to navigate the short halls and not trip over anything.
That was all after your father’s mental state pretty much fell through the floor. You really couldn’t blame him – taking care of six children would be stressful, no doubt, and from your own personal experience it was extremely difficult to take care of your five siblings and your father. There were times where I wondered if it was really even worth it. All the tireless hours, working your fingers to the bone, bringing in nothing more than mere morsels for a while. Sometimes you grew angry at your father for having “abandoned” you and your siblings, wishing he would either just get his act together to help or leave altogether so it’d be one less mouth to feed, but then guilt gnawed at you. You’re not supposed to wish harmful things onto your own parents.
But standing there, looking at the old house, you don’t understand the growing anxiety that you feel. He’s your father, so why are you nervous? You haven’t seen his scraggly face ever since Klaus had won the games (which reminds me of things that I will never tell Dad); but still, aside from the previous anxiety, you are more worried about how the old man was holding up. Part of you feels bad that he wasn’t allowed to move into the victor’s house but it’s Klaus’s house, so therefore it’s his rules. But your father is family, so you should at least still keep him informed of things.
You take a deep breath and venture up the familiar steps, hesitantly reaching out for the doorknob. Should I knock? Technically it isn’t your house anymore – it is solely your father’s, and none of your siblings ever return here to your knowledge. He isn’t expecting you since you hadn’t alerted him to your coming, but would he even bother coming to the door if you knock?
You twist the knob, slowly pushing the door open. ”Dad?” You call out, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind you. ”Are you here? It’s me, Hop.”
((Ahck I’m sorry this is so short D: I’m awful at starter posts. Also I'm sorry that it took me so long to put the thread up </3 ))