Cataclysm (Savannah, Linden, etc)
Mar 7, 2016 21:07:53 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 7, 2016 21:07:53 GMT -5
L I N D E N H A L E I was really fucking glad it was raining, because my cheeks were streaked with tears, and the last thing I needed was for anyone to see that. I stood on the wide, stately wooden boards, darkened by rainwater, that made up the front steps of my house-- well, it wasn't my house anymore. I had just walked over its threshold and closed its heavy door behind me for the last time. Some district official-- the house went to him now, we were distantly related, was waiting under an a grey umbrella at the bottom of the steps. He was tall and broad-shouldered and thin-faced and his pink lips were pulled wide and his eyebrows furrowed, like he knew he was supposed to look sorry for me. I could tell it was completely fake and I hated it. I hated him. He was taking my house. I could have lived by myself-- I'm sure I could have-- but it wasn't fucking allowed. I didn't even try to look civil as I walked towards him, avoiding his green eyes, and smashed the keys of my house into his clammy, upturned palm, my own hands shaking with tension. I watched rain splash over his fist as he closed his pale fingers over the keys. "You know the address of the family you'll be staying?" he asked, swallowing afterwards, as wind started to make the rain slant. Blood was rushing in my ears and I barely heard him. I didn't look into his ugly face because if I had, I probably would have punched it and been dragged away by a Peacekeeper. I bit my lip so hard that I tasted blood and turned my back on him. The first step away from my house and towards the road lined with trees took so much effort that I was tempted to stop right there. But the wind and the rain made my hair cling to my face and I could barely see and I felt my face morphing into an ugly, miserable mask and I was choking on tears again and I didn't want to be so fucking weak with other people there. I needed to get away. So I forced my heavy legs to move over the clinging mud with some semblance of clumsy speed. I was glad that the walk to the house seemed to take forever. They said it was about three miles away but they hadn't known it was going to rain, and that slowed me down. I remembered walking to my parents' shop-- it wasn't so far away. Well, it didn't used to be so far away. Now it was burned down, and they were gone. They were both last seen there, so near to the time of the fire that no one had bothered to look for their bodies before getting rid of the remains of the house. So there had only been a small ceremony, not a real funeral. And Martha was gone too. No one knew where. All of this barely seemed real-- because nothing ever happened-- but even though it was like vague dream, I eventually noticed that my shoulders were shaking and that my eyes were so screwed up that I was standing hunched over in the sludge on the side of the road instead of walking on the road. I took a deep breath-- it felt like I was sucking rain and tears into my lungs-- and failed to pull myself together. I forced myself to think about something other than-- that. Ah... The family, the house, where I would live until I got my own place and a fucking job. Now I had to get a job. I tried to wonder about what the family would be like and what their house was like. No one had told me who they were. But I couldn't muster any curiosity. I just hoped they left me alone. I finally got to the house, soaking wet to the bone. It was much smaller than mine. And it took an insane amount of effort to raise my fist and knock on the wet door. template by chelsey |
