laine o'nyle. d8 fin

calla RP Tutor 2,122 POSTS Pronouns: she/they last seen Apr 27, 2024 19:59:46 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	laine o'nyle. d8 fin Oct 26, 2019 22:53:09 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by calla on Oct 26, 2019 22:53:09 GMT -5 laine o'nyle eighteen big mom energy ike's cousin!!
	Last Edit: Nov 1, 2019 22:15:30 GMT -5 by calla ⇀ tracker ↼ ⇀ 2024 upat ↼

calla
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just a litle creacher

laine o'nyle. d8 fin Nov 1, 2019 22:00:56 GMT -5

Quote

Post by calla on Nov 1, 2019 22:00:56 GMT -5

❇

I was born with a broken heart.

The kind that doesn't work quite right until it's splintered, then suddenly it works too well and everything is amplified through my chest like it's some kind of megaphone.

It makes everything feel like a tsunami, large and terrible and all-encompassing, like a special brand of ruin, or a disaster that's inevitable. Sometimes, at night, it feels like I'm standing on a beach and watching as the water crashes against the sand and against my chest, up over my head until my skull is full of sea-foam and everything tastes like salt.

But I don't know. I've never been to the ocean.

I think I'd like to though, one day, just to see if the waves will soothe this pressure in my ribcage.

Because sometimes it's crushing, a herculean weight, and it cracks a new network of spider-silk into my bones, applies pressure until they start to break. But, I guess I'm lucky. I have experience with setting splints.

That's the thing about a fight club.

I never thought being a seamstress would be useful for anything other than following a legacy, but stitching up my cousins when they stumbled out of that place practically became a second job.

Maybe that's all I'm good for anyways - holding hair back and wiping away tears, always following two steps behind but thinking three steps ahead, trying to keep Guy from ruining his life for good. Because if I don't hold the family together, no one else will. And I think I need them more than they need me.

The world is already full of enough strife, but I hate that they're adding to it. I hate that they're doing this to themselves.

Ike had always been different, kind in the way fists never were. I guess that's why he found something to love in a place that was so foreign from home, how he had survived day two against all odds.

If things had been different, if we had been closer, maybe, I think I could've talked him out of it all and brought him home. So he wouldn't have had to fight.

He wouldn't have had to prove himself. Not if he knew how much his family loved him.

When he died, I promised I'd take care of the rest of them.

Sleep has never come easy since, not so much as staring at the pock-marked ceiling and trying to ignore the idea of another O'Nyle leaving us. The only distractions I have now are how to resew buttons, the in and out of a needle, the fastest ways to repair broken things. All the ways to become a carbon copy of my mother.

I think I grew up too early.

See, I wanted to be a pirate when I was little. I liked the idea of pretending, of all the bedtime stories my mom used to tell me before she got pregnant again and had to devote her free time to the new baby. That's when she started teaching me her craft instead of how to play make-believe. More children meant less money, and I had to start working so we could keep up.

It wasn't too bad, not at first, and I got to tag along with dad to watch him fit clients, swung my feet and worked through my own little projects on a rickety wooden stool in the corner of the shop.

But things started changing when I got older, when we all started to grow into adults. I don't know how or why it happened, all the fighting and the breaking apart, but I know I felt every blow they took and every punch my cousins threw.

Mom says that's the empath in me.

And she may be right, because there are these two kids that I see on the street all the time, I pass by them every morning when they're shivering and still waking up and neither of them can be older than thirteen. I know I've always had a funny heart, but I still gave them my jacket last week when the snow started to fall earlier than usual. I'd be working in the tailor's shop all day, tucked away from the cold. They needed it more than I did.

And it quieted the roaring in my chest for a while, the tightening of my throat that comes whenever Uncle Reece stumbles in late for Ratmas or Guy tries to hide another black eye.

I just don't want to lose anyone else.

I can't.

Last Edit: Nov 1, 2019 22:07:06 GMT -5 by calla

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calla RP Tutor 2,122 POSTS Pronouns: she/they last seen Apr 27, 2024 19:59:46 GMT -5 just a litle creacher	laine o'nyle. d8 fin Nov 1, 2019 22:15:42 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by calla on Nov 1, 2019 22:15:42 GMT -5 Tom has dibs!! uwu
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Tom Moderator 5,143 POSTS Pronouns: He/Him last seen Apr 28, 2024 1:45:55 GMT -5 OowoO	laine o'nyle. d8 fin Nov 1, 2019 22:54:21 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Tom on Nov 1, 2019 22:54:21 GMT -5 dfhdfshsdf shes doing so much and dsfghfsdhfsd </3
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