forbidden fruit.— [cayden/delilah]

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forbidden fruit.— [cayden/delilah] Aug 8, 2021 5:47:06 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Aug 8, 2021 5:47:06 GMT -5

Temptation is hard to wrap my head around. The Harvard House is the physical embodiment of temptation for me. Every time I pass it, a thought crosses my mind. I could join them. I could disappear into the night or even just walk up to it in passing and leave my life behind. I would no longer have to hide or live in fear. I could be free. Everything I need.

All rational thought says to do it. In the human hierarchy of needs, some of the needs include safety and belonging. At home, I have neither of those things. Yet, I hesitate. Every time I pass it, I hesitate. Because humans aren’t rational. Humans are far too emotional. Yes, it has everything I need. But not what I want. For I hold onto the childish dream of my family being whole on day. Of being loved by and loving all of my family, even if that dream will never be a reality.

Curiosity is a subject I have far more experience with. Ever since I was a child, I yearned for knowledge and was brimming with curiosity. Even if I know I could never leave my family, my curiosity has yet to be sated. What happens in that house? Are the occupants truly happy? Free? Loved? Is it everything I’ve ever needed, or is it simply an illusion?

I pass it on my way to and from training. Normally, my temptation and curiosity are kept at bay because I’m not alone. I’m walking with my siblings or my parents or there are even just other careers nearby. But today, fate had other plans for me. I ended up with an injury while training, a sprained ankle. It hurt to walk, but the injury is minor enough that they weren’t too concerned with me getting myself home.

Today I insisted my siblings stay behind, keep training. Sure Cleo or Max could probably carry me home without issue, but something inside of me told me I needed to go home alone. And with how early I got out, all of the other careers were still training. For the first time, when I passed by the familiar house - not a soul was in sight. No one to stop me. No one to out me. Just me and whatever lie inside of that home.

I made my way to the front door. And I hesitated. I raised my hand to knock, but my hand would never make contact with the door. What would I say? I do? What if this was some sort of trap? I was anxious, but my anxiety and curiosity were used to battling it out. I went from the door and noticed a large greenhouse in the back. I slowly crept around the side of the house, looking over my shoulder until I found it - the garden.

Once in the garden, it took me a moment to breathe before I realised I was alone, at least I thought I was alone. Once in, I didn’t take time to admire the plants nor investigate the greenhouse. Instead, my mind was focused on the house itself. More importantly, if it was true. In the darkness of Panem, was there really a beacon of hope for kids like me? Could this really be true? I walked around the garden once before trying to look into any window I could, still paying no mind to the greenhouse.

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forbidden fruit.— [cayden/delilah] Aug 15, 2021 19:55:42 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Aug 15, 2021 19:55:42 GMT -5

" i was painting a picture
the picture was a painting of you and
for a moment I thought you were here
but then again, it wasn't true, down "

Normally, I'm too busy to entertain thoughts like these. It almost feels childish, to be thirty and still concerning myself with the "what if's?" Funny, almost, how I thought being busier meant I would naturally get over these things easier. I think it was hope that I wouldn't have to face them myself, but it can't be that easy, huh? Whenever I get caught up in my thoughts, I always get sloppy in the garden. I'll set the hand tools down and dig into the flower beds with my hands, I think it's left over catharticism from ripping weeds out.

But just like with those longing thoughts, I just can't seem to help myself!

When it's peaceful and the kids are all inside, I'll come out to the greenhouse and let my mind wonder. Most of the time I'm thinking of sheet music, I'll hum melodies to myself until I'm near singing. But today, I don't know why it is, but today I can't stop thinking about my parents. It's something I only thought about as a kid, my teen and younger adult years was too centered around - well, women.

But today, I was letting my mind wander to a specific string quartet sheet I had set aside on my desk. I'm an organized person as most Headmasters need to be, but I can not for the life of me find it again. It was an old piece from the 20's maybe, they had played it at Carver and Larissa Le Roux's wedding. An antique piece that I can not believe I lost, and in situations like these I like to go back to my mental filing cabinet. Where did I last see it, what was near by?

And that takes me to the legal custody archive.

I know, somewhere, that my biological parents are listed in there, that I'll get to know the science behind who I am. I don't need to meet them, realistically I don't even think I would want to! It's just that itch in my brain, that desire to know that keeps me creeping back to it.

That's what I keep telling myself at least.

And I know, somewhere in that file, is Hayden's biological parents, and somehow that's what hurts me.

I avoid thinking about her if I can, most days I can. So much of my childhood is intertwined with her, it almost feels selfish to still be grieving in those little ways. And it's just... tempting. That's the best way I can describe it. It's tempting to know I could find two people who resemble her enough to carry that conversation with me again, and tell them who their daughter was. That their daughter was strong and resilient, to ask them if they even know she's dead.

That she's been dead for a decade, and they never sought her out.

That they brought a beautiful woman into a world they understood to be shit before we could, and couldn't even give her the advice to live life like it was something she could lose. Oh, it makes me so mad, there's a horrendous lamium cluster that refuses to die and I've been saving those damn things for a day I wanted to go to war against them. Nothing in this world makes me angrier than terrible parents, and ugly, invasive plants.

"Fine!" Why are you talking to yourself, Delilah. I throw my gloves into the hellebore flower bed before picking myself up, convincing myself that they're the reason my brain's so clogged. The music's stopped, I do my breathing before leaving the greenhouse with my eyes scanning for those damn lamium's. They're a horrible sore on my garden, I planted them three years ago during a particular drought and I have regretted it for over a thousand days.

Those sons of bitches are going to pay, today!

"Oh! Hello?" My focus snaps to the child standing outside my garden, trying to relax my shoulders to shake off whatever I was frustrated about. For a second, I thought it to be Zarina or Bow, just from the gorgeous, long brown hair. It isn't until they're looking at me that I realize this isn't one of my children, which is... understandably confusing. "Sorry, I don't recognize you. Are you one of Katy's friends?"

I begin to wipe the dirt off my hands onto my sundress, avoiding too much eye contact with them. Lord knows how crazed I looked exiting the greenhouse, what if they saw me hit that hellebore bush?

Well, maybe that hellebore bush had it coming.

"She should be in the main building there, if you're lost."

Last Edit: Aug 15, 2021 19:58:23 GMT -5 by Deleted

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forbidden fruit.— [cayden/delilah] Sept 15, 2021 2:59:05 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2021 2:59:05 GMT -5

I was so lost in my thoughts, the world around me faded. I was lost in my dreams of what could be. Of all of the possibilities that lie within that big house. A feeling of safety and security I seldom felt at home. Someone to praise me, someone who appreciates my talents. I might finally be away from constant reminders of what I'm not. Of what everyone wants me to be. Well, everyone but myself. Yet, as much as these ideas entrance me, they terrify me all the same.

Am I deserving of a life like that? What if Dads right? What if I should just try harder to be like my siblings? What if Cleo is right? That I just need to stop even trying to come out as gay. She says it would hurt the family. And she's right, but she doesn't even know the half of it. She hasn't seen Dad really lose his temper. And even I don't know what he'd do if I was gay. I'm not scared of my dad, but I respect him.

I didn't hear as the woman in the greenhouse yelled to herself. I didn't notice as she entered the garden. I didn't see her, but she saw me. Instead, I saw the curtains to one of the windows open. And what I saw made me tempted to break in. A library, full of books. Books about all sorts of subjects. Books about physics and chemistry. Books that are about more than the best ways to stab someone. Books Dad would always limit my time with in favor of training.

And then, she spoke to me. Like a lightening bolt, I was back to reality. I was back to being Cayden Valerie. And I reminded myself why I couldn't be here. I didn't want to leave my family. I loved them. Even if I would never truly belong, I loved them. Even if sometimes I wondered if they loved me back, I knew that I loved them. And that was enough. Emotions are hard for sometimes, but that one I'm positive about.

"I- I- Um sorry-"

For once, I couldn't find the right words. I couldn't find any words for that matter. I stumbled over whatever words my mouth could blurt out, my brain feeling disconnected from the rest of my body. I was caught. And I was technically trespassing. What if she told my parents? My dad would surely know why I was here. And what would happen then? I felt panic fill me, a feeling I rarely felt. A feeling I tried to avoid at all cost. For when you panic, your body either wants to run or it wants to fight. And I was best equipped when I could think rather than do either of those options.

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry, i shouldn't be here. I was just- I got curious... Please don't call my parents. I'll leave, I can leave and it'll be like I was never here to begin with. Just, don't tell anyone. You can't tell anyone. I'm sorry, ma'am."