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a-completely-normal-writer · 2 years

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A Family of One

Note: I currently have a love/hate relationship with this story. I like what I wrote, but I hate that it took me so dang long to write it. I talked about this story on Monday and I just finished it today. I just could not figure out how to end it, which may be why the ending feels a bit rushed, but I refuse to wrestle with it any longer. Sorry for any typos and tense errors I only read through it once. It's also pretty long, so it'll be under the cut. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it.

Tw. blood, monsters, smoking, death, just straight angst (I can't write fluff to save my life apparently)

“It should’ve been you.”

Those were the last words he said to his little sister before taking off deeper into the forest, leaving her cries and pleadings behind.

He takes a long drag from his cigarette.

Even five years later, as he was leaving teenagedom and joining the ranks of adulthood --though in this world the line between child, teen and adult were noticeably blurred and at times nonexistent--that moment still haunts him.

Almost everyday guilt and regret fills him, like the smoke filling his lungs, as he remembers the way she looked at him when those four words flooded from his lips.

Tears and snot were streaming down her brown face, creating lines in the dirt that covered it. The front of the pink dress she’d been wearing was covered in the mess. Sweat had caused her baby hairs to stick to the front of her forehead, and she was making those stupid little hiccupping noises she always did when she knew she was in serious trouble .

And why was she in trouble?

For opening the front door.

He had told her not to. That was the only rule he had set when he’d left her in that house.

Papa was sicker than ever, it had been over a week since mama had left to find a doctor, Crystal was...Crystal and baby Jade was a toddler who could barely fight off a cold, let alone one of those monsters.

So it was up to him to go on the weekly supply run.

In moments like these it felt as though the weight of the world rested on his too skinny, thirteen year old shoulders, but that’s what being the oldest got you.

At times he wished he was the youngest or even the middle child for a day, to escape the responsibilities that seemed to be consistently shoved onto him.

But he wasn’t and he just had to live with it. He found had to live with a lot of things these days

“Don’t open that door for anyone,” there was no reply from his younger sister, just the sound of the wheels of a toy car rolling on the hardwood floor, “ You hear me Crystal?”

“Yeah. I won’t J.”

Except she did

And now they were the only ones left.

He turned away from her, disgusted by the way she was blubbering and crying, like she was the victim here.

Like she hadn’t been the one to let those things in.

“Jasper, I did- I’m sor-” She interrupted herself with sobs every time she tried to speak, building the anger inside of his guts. He aims it at one of the trees in front of him, landing punch after punch onto the thick bark. The sting it bought felt good, and it stopped him from turning and hitting who he really wanted to.

“Jasper, please!”

He wheeled around to face her and she took a step back, nearly tripping over an exposed root. Her sobs had lessened a bit, but when he had turned to glare at her they came back full force.

“Why don’t you ever listen?”

“I- I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought ! Why did you open the fucking door?”

“I thought it was you!” Crystal exploded with tears when she said this, “there was a shadow at the door and I was scared and all alone and I thought it was you!”

“But you weren’t alone! Papa and Jade were there and now they’re-” he gets choked up at the last bit, unable to finish the sentence. Tears filled his eyes, and no matter how much he tried to blink them away they just kept coming.

“I’m sorry!”

Jasper used the fists he had balled up against his side to wipe the tears away--On the nights when Jasper couldn’t sleep, which was most nights, he wished he hadn’t. That he had left them to blur his vision, so that the face she’d made wasn’t the one ingrained into his memory whenever he inevitably thought about her-- then he said it.

The hiccupping stopped and her eyes grew wide, tears still falling from them.

There were so many emotions that passed through those brown orbs as she processed the words that'd left his lips.

Disbelief, confusion, anger, grief, and hurt.

But it was the last emotion that stuck with him the most, understanding.

In those last moments Jasper could see that his sister truly believed that it should've been her instead. That she was the one that should've been torn apart and left to stain the walls and floors of their home, while Papa and baby Jade stood here mourning and grieving her.

After he said it he turned and ran like a coward, not listening as she called out to him.

He just kept running.

Jasper ran until he could run no longer. Ran until his legs collapsed underneath him and his lungs burned with a breathlessness he had never felt before. He pressed his hot sweaty face into the cool dirt below him and just let go.

Released the screams and sobs welling up inside him. The tears forced themselves out of the boy as though a dam had broken inside him. He knew these tears weren’t just for what happened today, but for everything that had happened to him.

Jasper wept for his family, now reduced to only two.

He wept for the life before this time, a life he could now only remember bits and pieces of.

He wept for humanity, who in the face of monsters failed to come together, and instead bred bigger monsters who came in the shape of men.

He wept until the tears no longer flowed and instead he was just shaking on the cold hard dirt.

Jasper wished he could say that the crying had made him feel better, but it didn’t. The only thing he felt now was small, pathetic, worn, and more than a little guilty.

It wasn’t until the light filtering through the trees turned a golden yellow that he found it within himself to stand. He sniffled and wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, making it dirtier than it already was. He began to walk back to where he had left his sister, surprised how far he had actually run. Jasper passed through the brush he had run through to get there, but-

She wasn’t there

“Crystal?”

He looked around thinking that maybe he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere, but no there was the path that led to the house.

Then where was his sister?

“Crystal!”

He searched the whole area twice before heading down the path toward the house, and used the fence gate to get into the backyard, Jasper then looked through the entirety of it, only stopping to scratch his legs as he stepped through the overgrown grass. He even looked in the hole of the porch that Crystal used to hide in before everything. She was nowhere to be found.

Maybe she went inside?

Jasper peeked up at the backdoor.

It would only be a quick look inside.

He inhaled deeply before making his way up the steps, wincing as the third step creaked under his weight. He glanced around, before continuing up the steps. Then he reached door

It seemed to loom over him, dark and evil, despite the white peeling paint covering it.

Jasper took another deep breath before reaching for the rusted handle. It was only when his hand made contact with the knob that he realized how bad he was shaking, as it caused the door knob to rattle and shake right along with him.

He had to do this, it was his fault Crystal ran away and he needed to find her. He needed to.

But he couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He didn’t want to see the horror inside waiting for him. Not again. So Jasper stood there, hand on the door knob.

The sky ever slowly darkening is what pushed him into action. If either of them were still outside when nightfall hit…

Jasper twisted the door knob.

The door swung open slowly, creaking as it made its way toward the wall behind it, revealing a messy kitchen. Plates and utensils stacked in the sink waiting to be washed. Bowls left on the table. Cabinets and drawers left slightly ajar. Relatively normal. It was what waited for him in the room next to this one that had him shaking in his boots once more.

He willed himself to move and to his surprise he did, one foot in front of the other. He was halfway across the kitchen when he could smell it.

The metallic scent of blood.

God, he couldn’t do this.

He called her name from the kitchen hoping that if she were here, she’d hear him and come to him.

There was only silence that followed his calls.

“Crystal, please!”

There was an answer to his calls this time, but not one he wanted to hear. From the window he could see it was completely dark outside--how long had he stood here?-- and one of those monsters was roaming nearby.

Jasper could hear the sound of its feet tromping along the grass outside, could hear it growling as it searched for him.

Quickly, Jasper ducked into one of the bottom cabinets, drawing his legs up to his chest so he could fit inside of it. He shut the door just as the kitchen door burst open, and he could hear the wretched thing sniffing, growling, and slobbering, like an overgrown killer dog. He buried his face into his knees just waiting for the thing to go away, so he could keep looking for his sister.

Jaspers froze as a thought crossed his mind.

What if they already got her?

What if he’s too late.

No, she was fine.

But what if she wasn’t?

Those thoughts flooded his mind the entire time he hid. He’d doze off into a restless sleep, before waking up once more to those thoughts flooding him again. Not even the feeling of hunger could drive the thoughts from his mind.

It was only when he could hear birds singing that he took a peek outside the cabinet door.

He couldn’t see anything.

Jasper opened it further and stuck his head out.

It was gone.

He stepped out and grabbed some food from one of the cabinets, before heading out to continue searching for his sister.

For the next two weeks that was how he worked. Waking up at the crack of dawn, and spending the whole day searching, only coming back to eat and sleep in the cabinet, while trying his best to ignore the stench of death that was quickly overpowering the house.

He searched the entire neighborhood and the woods adjacent to it. He found nothing from his sister. No clothing, no hair, no body.

She was just gone.

And now he was a family of one.

Jasper snuffs out his cigarette.

#argument #nia's back at it again #traumatizing children #nia's short stories #short stories #writers on tumblr #my orignal work #black writers #female writers #dystopian #post apocalyptic #something like that #poor little meow meow #fun fact: the was heavily inspired by a scene from Arcane.#I'm not gonna explain it in case of spoilers #but if you watched it you know the one I'm talking about #pls don't hate me for this angst i've foisted upon you

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samsrowena · 2 years

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why do you prefer late seasons sam? genuinely curious bc i would like to appreciate him more lol

oh i am so glad you asked!!!!!

alrighty so. basically. the thing about sam in the late seasons is that he is just so traumatized. like deeply DEEPLY fucked up. and i honestly just find that so very sexy of him

AKLSJFKSKLSL sorry for being deranged but i can't help it. that really is the main appeal for me... but i think also i just have a lot of trouble connecting with sam in the earlier seasons. i still love him i really do! i just don't "get" him a lot of the time???

whereas in the later seasons i'm able to do so more easily through his relationships with other characters like dean (the s10-15 sam&dean dynamic is my fav because for starters they finally stop that whole 'fighting for the majority of the season' thing unlike s4 and s6 and s7 and s8 and s9 lol) and also rowena (there's a post i saw soooo long ago which talked about becoming a sam understander through samwena and i WISH i could find it because. literally me!)

but yeah i mean i definitely agree with the consensus that in the later seasons sam needed more storylines and stuff and that they neglected the hell out of him as time went on (i will forever be furious we were robbed of proper witch sam! and also just like taking his psychic powers away in general)

but to claim he becomes boring or whatever? could NOT be me. he's not the smiley and happy-go-lucky lawboy he was in season one. but he SHOULD'NT be. he has been through so so much and he's so so tired. he's fucking exhausted. he doesn't open up anymore. he's scared all the time (he flinches when someone yells or when a door slams or when there's loud noises like hello????). like literally he has just been tortured and violated and betrayed and every other possible horrible thing under the sun and he is the absolute shell of the person he once was and that's! the! point! like that's exactly what you're supposed to do!!!!!!!

so yeah. sorry anon, i probably didn't convert you to late seasons samgirlism with this answer alskdkfkdkj but maybe these excellent tags by daniel @i-have-doubts left on my late seasons sam gifset will help:

#IT'S SAM. LOOK AT HIM. BOYKING BLOODFREAK UNCLEAN IN THE BIBLICAL SENSE SAMWITCH#he's valid he drinks blood he teaches the future god how to use his powers HE'S A LESBIAN he's a loreboy HE LAPTOPPIN IT UP#he always felt unclean and just wants to make his brother proud#EILEEN THE MOST STUNNING PERSON IMAGINABLE IS IN LOVE WITH HIM AND THEY ARE REAL#the most powerful witch ever and also queen of hell also loves him so jot that down#HE FOUGHT THE DEVIL AND WON. LIKE 5 TIMES#he likes fidget spinners like an absolute moron SOMEBODY SHOW THIS NERD A FIDGET CUBE#he literally doesnt know about oven mitts#he's immune to every torture under the sun but one (1) cayenne pepper flu cure has him in total surrender#HE SHOT GOD BECAUSE HE HAD NO FUCKS LEFT TO GIVE

#he literally shot god!!!!!#sammy my best friend sammy my poor traumatized little meow meow #i need him to cradle him in my lap while i pet his beautiful hair #💌#anonymous #spn.txt #sam winchester #supernatural #spn

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tragicbackstoryenjoyer · 2 years

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Character Introduction: Ashala av Khilaya

21 years old. tall and dangerously thin, curly black hair, golden brown skin, a thick unibrow, brown eyes rimmed with dark circles, a sharp, curved nose, and a jagged scar across her left cheekbone. the protagonist.

Excerpt

In Ashala’s pocket, she kept a single copper coin. She called it her “emergency fund,” but that was a lie. On its face was minted a profile of King Lucius. At night, Ashala would stare at it, dreaming of choking him out as he begged for mercy. He had taken everything from her and her people. He had ruined her life and the lives of the thousands of others within his country that forgoed the worship of his Ancestors to worship the old human goddess - Ahara. The people that called themselves Mystites but outsiders called heathens. All to fund a war that had been fought a hundred times before. This bloody, impossible fantasy of revenge was the one luxury Ashala allowed herself in her solitude. She would never get close enough to take back the life that she was owed, but she could dream. For only when he is dead would Ashala have the bravery to leave her hermitage and look for her parents. She knew well enough that she would not live long enough to see that happen, though. He ruled with an iron fist. No one dared speak out against him, for he was worshiped as the living Descendent of gods. He would rule until he is a withered old man and pass down his bloody values onto his kin. Ashala knew that her parents were likely dead, anyways. Just like her brother, Ivren. Just like Sarra.

Description

The daughter of the religious leader of an isolated community of Mystites, Ashala grew up sheltered, happy, and oblivious to the oppression her people faced. A deeply religious girl with a talent for healing, she could never have dreamed of hurting another human being.

But when the fanatical King Lucius Cato took Salisia's throne, everything changed. With everyone she once knew either dead or far, far away, she's turned into a fear-stricken cynic, living on the brink of starvation far away from society. In her solitude, she allows herself to dream of one thing only: vengeance.

Taglist (ask to be added or removed)

@sir-galahadnt @dropsoftheuniverse @ladywithalamp @ashen-crest @laufire-writes

#yes she's edgy but more importantly she's just deeply deeply deeply scared and traumatized #a poor little meow meow if i do say so myself #character introduction #character intro #oc introduction #oc intro #writeblr #cw choking #? idk how to tag that #oc: ashala av khilaya #wip: blood of gods #my writing

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