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Family Matters [Open; 16+ rating]



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Thu Dec 11, 2014 3:35 am
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crossroads says...



Relation Cheat Sheet

This is a story of two families, and a few other people who cross through their lives. Based heavily on characterisation and character interaction, it's a plot completely new, undecided on until we, the writers, claim our roles and get the ideas rolling.


~The Story So Far~

Ever since the Frey couple met, thanks to their mutual friends the Collins', the two families shared much more than the street they lived in. They invited each other to every birthday and anniversary, their children played together and everyone knew of how strong their bonds were.

Until everything changed.

Three years ago, the Collins' thirteen-year old daughter was found dead by her little sister, bled out on her bed from multiple stab wounds. The investigation followed the trail of smudged fingerprints and suspicious activities in the house across the street, to the eldest of the Frey children, the then fifteen-year old music prodigy whom they arrested at the night of his concert. Although he never confessed, and the family lawyer did all in their power to get the charges dropped, he was found guilty and sent to jouvenile prison, where he was to stay until his eighteenth birthday.

And now, three years later, he is coming back home.
*

~The Characters~
Note that the things written here are not changeable, but you have full freedom of shaping your characters' personalities and histories to your own liking.

~The Collins Family consists of now five members. The parents, a gay couple (of whichever gender and age) share last name and custody over three children. The eldest is just turning 25, while the youngest is just turning 13 - the same age her sister was in when she found her that morning. The middle child is 17.

All of the family members are playable characters.

~The Frey Family consists of six members. The parents - mother and father - are living separately, although still in the same neighbourhood, having gotten divorced shortly after their son ended up behind bars. The mother lives in their old house, with their youngest - an eight-year old - and middle child - who turned 15 a couple of months earlier. The father, a few streets away, shares home with their oldest son's twin (of any gender), who just turned 18 the very day their brother got released.

Again, all the characters are playable.

~The Others
Along with the families, there are some characters that would be nice additions. Not all of these need to be claimed, though, and some can be mixed into one person.

~The grandparent(s) of either family - more than one person can claim these, obviously, since there can be up to eight of them
~A school friend or two - preferably, this friend (or friends) would be hanging out with the members of both families, acting like sort of a bridge and reason why neither of the families has moved away yet regardless of everything that happened
~A therapist - whether they be here for the youngest daughter of the Collins family, for the oldest Frey son or any of the other characters, one is certainly needed
~A neighbour or two - someone who would know the families and the story, or someone who just moved to their street/neighbourhood

Feel free to suggest other character ideas in the DT, and don't be afraid to make all kinds of connections between the characters!
I'm rating this SB 16+. This doesn't mean that you can't join unless you're older, but do keep in mind that some topics might get less than child-friendly.
For any questions, reservations and so on, post in the DT or PM me c:

~Claimed Characters:
Spoiler! :
The Collins Family:
Parent I - @Lumi
Parent II - @Omniclysm
Eldest child - @Alvarin
Middle child - @Elinor%20Brynn
Youngest child - @Avalon

The Frey Family:
Parent I - @CowLogic
Parent II - @Skydreamer
Eldest son - @AriaAdams (moi)
Eldest son's Twin - @queerelves
Middle child - @BiscuitsBatchAvoy
Youngest child - @DragonGirl11

Others:
Grandparents -
Friend(s) -
Therapist -
Neighbour(s) -


~Character Template
(feel free to make your own, these are just guidelines)
Code: Select all
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b] (Include strengths, weaknesses, fears, dreams, hobbies, feelings towards other characters and so on, please)
[b]Appearance:[/b] (Do add a picture up in the profile, but feel free to also mention additional stuff here.)
[b]History:[/b] (Keep in mind that family members will be sharing some, often significant, pieces of history. No need to go into too many details, though.)
[b]Other:[/b]


We will start when we get six submitted character profiles.
• previously ChildOfNowhere
- they/them -
literary fantasy with a fairytale flavour





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Tue Dec 16, 2014 2:15 am
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crossroads says...



Jason Frey

I barely listened as they handed me back my things and informed me of the mandatory visits to the psychiatrist for the next few months. Everything felt strange - I wasn't sure if it was a good kind of strange or a bad kind of strange, but there was something about the ground under my feet and the air I was breathing on this side of the fence that was completely different from the open courtyard on the other. I took a deep breath and looked up, almost expecting a line separating one part of the sky from the other.

I could just not go home.

I've been playing with the thought before, but now it flashed through my mind in way more tempting than ever earlier. I could've just picked the random direction and keep walking, or run to the train station and figure out how to jump on the first train. Possibly steal a bike somewhere instead... With my talents, I'd be able to survive and fend for myself, and no one at home would even know where I was.
I wasn't even sure anyone at home still wanted me home.
In fact, the word itself felt odd in my thoughts. I hadn't thought of it as home for quite some time - when I'd imagine it, it felt like thinking back about a nice dorm or a house that I happened to live in while my parents happened to own it.

Maybe I could just--

"Jason. Oh my god."

I turned the moment I heard his voice. Gabriel was standing on a meter from me, obviously wanting to come closer - to hug me or to beat the hell out of me for leaving him alone for so long, I wasn't completely sure.

He's okay. That's what matters. He was somewhat taller than I remembered, and somewhat thinner, but otherwise not much seemed to have changed. I gave him a little smile, finding it hard to move first.

He hugged me tightly enough to nearly break my ribs. "Shit, no, I'm not going to cry-"
My arms wrapped around him almost automatically, in one of the first movements I had ever learned. "I missed you so much," I muttered into his hair. It was the truth - out of all my family members, he was the one
I thought about the most, wondering if he'd hate me and if he'd be alright without me. For one reason or another, it didn't feel strange to admit that to him. "I was so worried.."
"I never, ever stopped missing you."
He hugged me a bit tighter in attempt to control himself, but I could hear the tears in his voice. It was more relieving to know missing me could actually make him cry, than it would've been possibly if he had just said it with a smile.
"I'm out now," I said quietly. "I'm coming home and I won't leave again." I pulled away carefully, just enough to look at him, smiling a tiny bit as I wiped away his tears. "You know--"

"Jason!"

We both turned, each on our side - him to quickly dry his eyes, me to look at our mother. She looked at me with that expression in between of love and concern - for my wellbeing, or for whether or not I deserved what I got, I wasn't quite sure - and I just stood there, letting go of Gabriel, feeling like a stranger and probably looking like one as well.

"..Hi, mum."

She smiled. It was a warm smile, the kind slightly different than those I've seen mothers giving to some of the other boys when they'd visited. A part of me wanted to believe it was the more sincere kind, yet still I couldn't exactly smile back.

"We came to pick you up," she said, and turned to point at the car parked on the corner. She probably noticed my eyes narrowing as I tried to figure who was still in it, because she added a moment later: "Lucy's here too."

I followed her to the car, staying close to Gabriel and resisting the urge to turn and start walking in the opposite direction instead, and sat in the back with my brother. Lucy glanced at us in the mirror and I caught her eyes for a moment.

"Hey, sis."
"..Hey." Lucy sighed as mum came in and closed the door.
Gabe frowned at the back of her seat. "You just got out of school for a car ride, what are you so down about?"
She shuffled in her seat. "I'm missing an important class. This is making me less prepared for the test..."

I stopped listening as mum turned on the radio and drove down the street. It was playing what I assumed was an old rock song, one I didn't recognise, and my fingers automatically tapped on my leg as if I was playing the melody on a piano. I turned to stare out the window, and clenched my fist as I realised my fingers were moving.

That feels wrong too.

"Hey." Gabriel's hand covered mine. Turning to him again, I found him smiling slightly. "Are you alright?"
I nodded, vaguely aware of mum and Lucy's voices as they talked about something over the music. I looked down on our hands.
"It just feels weird," I said.
"Bad weird?" He kept his voice silent too, and it took me a moment to decide to shake my head.
"Not quite.." I shrugged. "I was scared something happened to you... Or that you wouldn't want to see me again."
He smiled wider now and shook his head. "I'm okay. And nothing could make me not want to see you again." He leaned closer to me and carefully kissed my cheek, whispering before he pulled away: "Happy birthday."
I smirked and pulled my hand from his to hug him again before he pulled away. "Right back at you."

I let him go and sat back, watching the houses go by and trying to ignore the music. I watched as the sun moved up in the sky and our neighbourhood emerged around us, resisting the urge to turn to glance at the house across the street as mum parked in our driveway. I wouldn't have even been sure if the Collins family still lived there, were there not for the court order against approaching them too closely.
I let Gabriel tug at my sleeve and more or less lead me inside as we got out of the car. Everything was about to change, as I was sure it already had. And all I felt like was sitting back and listening to the music of a broken radio in a bus that would take me far away from everyone.
*
• previously ChildOfNowhere
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literary fantasy with a fairytale flavour





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Tue Dec 16, 2014 5:02 am
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Omni says...



Lyle Collins - Thursday, September 17


"...Lyle?"

"Hmm?"

"Ya alright?" A hand laid on his shoulder. He coughed and blinked back tears, turning to see Kiki, She smiled warily, "You looked awful still there when I looked at ya." She withdrew her hand from my shoulder.

I inhaled slowly and weakly. My heart was pounding deep inside my chest. I couldn't remember my dream, no matter how hard I tried. "Lyle, Lyle, I'm gonna go now. It's getting late." She glanced at her watch. "About 10. You okay?"

I managed a small smile. "Just been a little stressed out lately."

She gave him a warm smile that seemed to pity him. That's all my coworkers do whenever I'm in one of my "moods." They just keep me here only out of pity, I thought.

"Well, don't forget that tomorrow, Thunderdome is happening. So be here bright and early with your projects." She pat me on the back gently, then turned to leave.

"Hey, Kiki." I stood abruptly.

"Hmm?" She looked back at me. She looked like she had a tear in her eyes, but it disappeared when she smiled.

"Thanks... for waking me. I probably would've slept here through the night."

She snickered, "Like that's the first time you've slept at your desk. Hey, remember that time when you slept in here for a week straight and that last night we made a joke on covered you in this huge makeshift tent with a lot of mazes and tunnels. You came out-"

"And announced that I've finished the audio cards. Yeah." I bit back some more tears. Stop getting all emotional. "Things have changed."

"They have." She agreed softly. "Speaking of, how's the soundtrack going for Mission 12?"

"It's... it's coming along nicely. I still have some other things I need to refine on it."

"Good deal. G'night, Lyle." And with that she left.

I sat back down at my desk, staring blankly at my dual monitors. Almost every day she asks me that, and I give her the same answer. No doubt she has someone else working on it, maybe even finished it and moved on.

"That's what we all have to do, sooner or later." I whispered. "Move on."

Double-tapping the spacebar slowly, my work flashed before my eyes. It was Project Tricia. He was in the middle of the Second Act, almost to the point where Tricia reveals to her guardian that she's his daughter.

I smiled weakly. "Reduced down to clichés and horrible writing, I'm afraid. But I'm going to finish it. And I'm going to read it to you."

I set my hands against the keyboard, feeling the keys. They were second nature by now. "God, Marty, you would be so ashamed if you read this."

With that thought, I set to work.

...Tricia stood up, brushing her clothes off. The ships stood in the background, blazing in a fire of glory, making the perfect backdrop to the sea, like a clash of nature itself.

Marc turned to stare at her. "Looks like we finished it. They're not coming back. Let's get you back home."

"Marc," he stopped.

"What?"

"I am home. This is wh-"


I slammed the keyboard, picking it up and ripping it out of the computer. Laying my head on the desk, I sobbed, not caring who heard me. Not caring if I should fall asleep again or if I don't go home tonight, for the second time this week.
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Tue Dec 16, 2014 6:01 pm
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Elinor says...



Myra

Myra pulled into the driveway and rested her hands on the keys, but waited for "Married Life" to come to its conclusion before she took them out of the ignition and got out of the car. The song had tricked her into for a few minutes into thinking she was happy. It was always necessary after her visits with Peter, but especially today. She grabbed her backpack and started walking shakily to the house, a knot in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to face her parents, and she most definitely didn't want to see Jason. Well, she did, but after three years, after everyone else in her family was convinced that he killed Tricia?

Peter had spent the majority of the session talking about her feelings for Jason, but he essentially regurgitated things she already knew, was not helpful, and made her feel like a freak. This was nothing different from the way that her therapy sessions usually went, but still she'd had a sinking feeling all throughout her body because Peter promised that he was going to help prepare her to see him again, and he hadn't. Maybe it was ridiculous that as much she hated therapy, she still had some kind of hope that it would be helpful.

As she put her keys into the front doorway of her house, she craned her neck backward to other side of the street, fixating on the Frey house. Jason was probably there, right now.
Her mind raced with imaginary conversations that the two would have, as it had done all through out the day at school.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I know you didn't kill my sister."

"Thank you."

She opened the door, and to her relief found that no one was home, but still she half wished she had someone to talk to. Not her family. But maybe Erin (who spent the weekends with her dad in the city) or Tricia. She still missed Tricia so much every day.

Since no one was home to judge her, she found her Up DVD and popped it into the DVD player, relaxed on the couch, and lost herself in the movie.

All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.

-- Walt Disney





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Tue Dec 16, 2014 10:39 pm
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ExOmelas says...



Lucy


Lucy winced as Gabe slammed the car door closed.

"Did that car do something to you?" she muttered.

He didn't hear her. He and Jason were already striding towards the house, leaving Lucy and her mum to bring in Jason's things. Lucy rolled her eyes. Like she needed another brother. It was more like gaining two, in fact, since Gabe had been living with their father. She wondered if he would be staying with them now that Jason was home. Probably not. He seemed pretty settled with their father, from what she'd seen.

"Good to have the boys back together," her mum said.

"Uh-huh," Lucy replied. She hefted Jason's bag onto her shoulder and trudged into the side door of the house.

The side door emerged straight onto the kitchen and on entry she was lambasted by the smell of someone baking cookies.

"Elliott?" she asked with a frown. She doubted her eight-year-old brother had learned to use the oven since they'd been out.

Her mum smiled. "I put them on before we went out. They're for Jason. And you, and Gabe, and Elliott. And me, if there are any left."

She smiled and strode through to the dining room, then around the corner into the living room, then up the stairs to the row of bedrooms. She counted along three doors, where she had been told Jason would be staying. She almost used her shoulder to heave the door open, but decided to knock instead.

"Just a sec!" one of them called.

A moment later the door swung open and Jason appeared, leaning against the door frame, his shirt already off.

"Well, I see you've made yourself at home." Lucy smiled.

Jason chuckled. "Feels just like when I left. Except for the fact that, you know, it's a different house."

Gabe giggled from within the room.

"Ah, my bag," said Jason.

Lucy nodded and handed it gratefully over to him. He smiled, took the bag, and closed the door. Lucy rolled her eyes. Boys. She backed up to the first door and strolled in. There was a Larkin anthology lying open on her desk. She plonked herself down in her chair, rested her head on her hand, and let her mind gobble up the verse.

What fools these mortals be!
William Shakespeare
A Midsummer Night's Dream


Who cares if one more light goes out?
Well I do.

Linkin Park
One More Light







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Skydreamer says...



Lacinda Frey


The boys were already in Jason's room and she saw Lucy go up as well with Jason's bag. She was happy that her kids were so close. The only one not with them was Elliot, but he was in school and since he didn't know all the details, or his brother that well, she didn't see the need to bring him along. Pulling the cookies out of the oven, Lacy sighed. Jason seemed, different. He had a different air about him that wasn't there before the whole thing happened. She didn't even want to adress what that 'thing' was. She set the cookies on the counter and tried to hold back tears. The scariest change in Jason was the fact that he looked at her with careful eyes, as if he was on a rope with her, not sure where he stood. Or where she stood. It hurt her, but she knew he wasn't little anymore, she wasn't that important, anymore.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she saw a message from David, frowning she quickly deleted it. David probably wanted to know if his son was really back, or ask if there was anything she needed for him to fix. Yes there was something, she wanted him to fix his life, other than that there was nothing. She was getting fed up with his lame excuses and reasons for coming over. She told him she'd send Lucy over to hang out more, but he had to stop coming over. They were over, and they had decided that together. Walking over to her pantry, Lacy pulled out some frosting and sprinkles and added them to the treats. Then she set them in a plate for her kids.

Checking her watch, she realized that in just a few hours she had to go pick up Ellie and she didn't even get stuff for dinner. The whole day she had been worried about Jason coming home. How long would he stay? Would he even want to stay? Where would he go if he didn't want to stay? What should she do? Should she give him his savings and let him run off? Could she do that? There were so many thoughts that flew through her mind and she had to kind of push them back or ignore them through class planning. Speaking of class, she remembered she had a lot of things to do. On monday they were starting to learn some of the critical pieces for the winter concert, and she had to plan which pieces they were going to be.

Not to mention she had to decide whether or not to answer to some of the men who asked her out on dates recently. She was way too busy to be concerned about trivial things such as that, but she also wanted some type of happiness for herself. She had spent the past three years feeling terrible for the Collins', while also feeling bitter at them, while aslo wanting things to go back to normal. And at first, yes she even missed David, she missed not being the only one around the house, and having to do absoluetly everything. She missed Gabe and she had missed Jason. Her family, her wonderful family, and the way things used to be was what weighed on her mind. Now that Jason was back, there was a sense of relief that at least he wasn't out of her sight. Maybe now she could think a little more about herself.

Deciding she would go to the supermarket and get some food for the group for dinner and then pick up her Ellie, she grabbed her keys. Checking herself in her living room mirror for one second she frowned a little. She saw an older woman, she saw a stressed out older woman. Remembering her therapy session with Peter she smiled, he told her to have fun. To stop thinking too much about what she could not change, what she could not handle. Ha, and I always thought that's how you be a mother. She thought.

Her hand reached the handle of her door when she remembered.

She walked up half the stairs and yelled, "Guys, if you want some cookies they're on the kitchen counter! I'm off to the store and then to pick up Elliot, please leave a few for your younger brother. Thanks!"

With that, she was off.
I believe in that, which is not seen.
I call it truth, faith, hope, life.


~~~~Sometimes life beckons us to be different~~~~

I used to be known as thewritersdream, but now my dreams have taken flight





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Wed Dec 17, 2014 5:55 pm
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Lumi says...



In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can’t build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery, and death. I see the world gradually being turned into a wilderness, I hear the ever approaching thunder, which will destroy us too, I can feel the sufferings of millions and yet, if I look up into the heavens, I think that it will all come right, that this cruelty too will end, and that peace and tranquility will return again.

"Anne, you poor, naive girl."

Marty highlighted the first sentence in his notebook and stowed it away in his messenger bag. On this, the day he'd been dreading for years, Marty had shared with each of his classes the thoughts of Anne Frank; how she remained optimistic in the maw of wild oblivion, how she fought against her fears of the unknown end. He did this not because Anne was a great and wonderful philosopher, but because deep, deep down, he wanted it to be true of the world. That peace and tranquility would return again.

"Marty, you poor, naive girl."

It was no secret that he feared a.) the great aftermath of b.) Jason's release from enclosed spaces and c.) the stack of bills waiting for him at d.) home, but Marty raised his head. He raised his head and straightened his glasses.

Make it to the parking lot.

He locked his classroom. He waved to his colleagues in the hallway. He stopped in the mail room and took a page from his notebook. This particular notebook was number forty-nine on an ever-growing collection of thoughts and quotes from his mind and the great minds of authors before him. They even had notes for his dissertation--the thought of which made him uneasy and ill-hopeful.

Lacy, he wrote, There are things with you I'd like to discuss. How does dinner at Le Cochon sound? I'm glad you agree. I'm paying, and I won't take no for an answer. Sunday at seven. I'll see you then.

He sealed it in an envelope and scribbled her home address, grabbing the delivery man on his way out the door.

"I'd like to add one to the stack, Jim."

"Aw, Marty. You know I can't do personal mail."

Marty exhaled a faux laugh. "Come on, Jim. It's me. The guy with no dogs, a mailbox on the street. You can do me a solid just this once."

"A solid, huh?"

Marty laughed again, this time really. "I picked it up from a student. Does it suit me?"

Jim clicked his tongue. "Not as much as the color orange, but I'll accept it." He winked and took the envelope.

Marty would be humble to say he had his ways--but he definitely had methods. In his Lexus waited his phone. He connected it to Bluetooth, started the car, and took some deep breaths. The line clicked.

"You're late."

He made a K-turn out of the parking space and drummed his fingers on the wheel.

"Well, Martin?"

"Today's the day, Peter."

"Indeed it is. In fact, I've heard that so many times today that I've completely cut the square off the calendar on my wall. I swear! Come by the office and look."

"I trust you, Peter." The highway was empty. It was as if Marty were alone in the world. It was as if he were talking to God.

"As you should trust me. When you talk to me, you're embracing safety, Martin. You're embracing the evolution of you."

"Lacy wasn't at school today, Peter."

"She probably picked Jason up. It's just as much a big deal for them, Martin."

The suburbs were quiet and sunny. The air in his car hummed like a young choir. "And he'll be in my neighborhood tonight."

"That is correct, Martin. It will be safe to assume that he'll be in your neighborhood. Have you invested in the new security system like I asked?"

"I've new locks, cameras, an audio tap on the back lawn."

"Then your family will be safe at night, Martin. Have you given thought to my suggestion that you take anti-anxiety medicine?"

"I'm reminded of the lizard brain, Peter, how it is the most primal part of our minds. Do you know what it is assigned?"

"Vaso Vagal instincts, Martin. Fight or Flight."

"That's right, Peter. If I take anti-anxiety medication, then my lizard brain goes quiet. I don't want my brain to be quiet, Peter. Not until I'm ready to turn in."

"And by that you mean...?"

"Die." Marty pulled into his driveway and rested his hands in his lap in thought. "We're all made of the same things, aren't we, Peter?"

"Every last one of us."

"The same water. The same soil. Every life fiber down to our heart valves."

"The same brains too, Martin."

"Empathy and sympathy."

"These are the things that separate us from animals. We are not animals, Martin. Nor is he."

"Good talk, Doc."

"Goodbye, Martin."

He walked into his front door. He took a breath of his air. He placed his keys on his wall and loosened his tie around his neck. He listened for his family. He listened for life.

"Myra?" He opened her bedroom door and smiled as she glanced up from her TV. He continued to smile when she returned her gaze to her TV. She was so small and composed. Always small, always composed. She didn't have his eyes or his hair or his airy sense of humor. But she had his name and she had his grief and worry. She had his lizard brain. "Myra, I'd like to talk if you don't mind."

"I'm in the middle of something, dad."

"You're in the middle of something that can be paused, rewound, or otherwise repeatedly watched over the course of several years...over two hundred times, by my count." He sat down on her bed and placed a hand on her hand. She was small. She was composed. "How are you holding up?"

"I was absolutely fine until this strange man came traipsing into my room and tried to," she accidentally smiled as she jerked her arm away, "hold my hand."

"Men are strange sometimes. Especially if they're traipsing around." His smile faded as his mind returned to the solemn matter at hand. "We're all made of the same things, Myra." It was like coercing a genie out of a lamp. The words would come and fall on deaf ears. "I don't want you to be afraid."

"Have you, for one moment--" She paused and closed her eyes, buried her head in her folded legs. "--thought that the man who hurt this family hasn't been locked up for three years?"

There was a crack in Marty's facade.

She took her remote and turned the movie back on. "Food for thought."

Marty slowly stood and approached the door, standing there for a long moment. "We're having a family meeting tonight once your other parental unit shows up. Mandatory attendance. 100% of your grade."

He closed the door behind him. She was already consumed in the movie, and his words had probably fallen on deaf ears.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Alvarin says...



Henrik Collins | Thursday the 17th of September
The book I had pre-ordered two months ago had finally arrived, and it was one of the most interesting things I had read in quite some time. A professor I had made myself increasingly familiar with over the years had compiled the meanings of many different Celtic symbols, and included the more alternative meanings that I had never heard of before. Needless to say, I wanted to learn them all, so I could better understand how to get to the fairy realm. I knew all symbols had some kind of power, which was why I had gotten tattoos with the ones with meanings close to my heart, as well as those that could make it easier for me to enter the fairy realm.

The knock on the door sounded quite distant, as I was focused on finishing a stylized version of the last symbol, so that I'd find it easier to remember it, and for a moment I thought I'd simply ignore it, but something told me that I shouldn't. I don't want to make anyone feel ignored.That was important, after all. Feeling ignored and lonely was painful, and even if this world was unimportant, the people in it, my friends and family, were not.

"Come in." I didn't take my eyes or pen off the paper I was drawing on, needing to finish it as perfectly as the others.

"Hey." I liked that voice, enough for it to make me want to put the symbols away for a bit, and the hand gently placed on my back was even more distracting. "What are you doing?" He wasn't worried, which was quite a relief. Normally any voice that asked that was worried, or full of pity, but not his. He was interested and he cared, and I love him for it.

"I got a new book, it's on alternative meanings of Celtic symbols.." I explained, trying to finish it up as quickly as possible without making a mistake. I want to kiss him. I want to make him smile. "I've never seen some of them before, so I'm trying to learn them."

"I don't guess you want to take a break to go out with me?" Yes, I do. As long as going out didn't entitle actually leaving the house, I really wanted to. "How long have you been working?"
"Uhm.." It occurred to me that I had no idea what the time was, and that the sun had set made that even more clear. I glanced towards the clock on my desk, only to confirm that I'd indeed spent more hours reading and drawing the symbols than I intended. "A few hours. I had to go down and have some dinner."

Marty had convinced me to do so, even though I hadn't exactly been hungry. I wasn't especially fond of family dinners, even though I knew I should be. I loved all of them, but the way they treated me got difficult to deal with sometimes.
Lyle treated me like a child, or like I was slow, which made it close to impossible to talk to him about anything.
Tory was nice, and even interested in my stories, but I could never talk to her about it seriously, both because she was still a child and because she'd probably tell Marty and Lyle about it and get me sent back to the mental hospital, and I didn't want to be there.
Marty was really nice, but as with Tory I couldn't really talk to him about anything seriously, and any interaction with consisted of me trying to seem as normal as possible so that I wouldn't worry him. I didn't like worrying any of them.
Myra was almost always ignoring me, which I hoped didn't mean that she didn't like me. I wrote her stories and drew pictures for her sometimes, hoping that she'd read them and maybe tell me they were nice.. Or bad. As long as she talked to me I'd be happy with either.. But she never did talk to me, not if she wasn't somehow forced to, so I didn't know if she actually read them. Maybe she just threw them away? No. I didn't like those thoughts, and I didn't want to let myself think like that. It was painful to think of myself as a bother for the others, and I'd had enough pain already. I'd had an overwhelming amount of pain, and if it didn't stop I'd have to leave sooner, and sooner might mean making a mistake and not getting to the fairy realm, and I had to get there.

"Go out..? Where?" I asked as I finished the drawing, putting the pen down and looking up at Gabriel. I felt warm every time I saw him. He understood me, in a way that no one else did, and I never had to lie or pretend to be normal around him. He was the only one I'd ever know that wasn't either mean or wanted to change something about me.

"There's a party down the street in a couple hours, we could head down there when it starts." I closed my eyes for a moment as he ran his finger through my hair. I wanted to be with him, but a party didn't sound that nice. I'd have to behave in a way expected of the people there, and try to convince myself that I wasn't just wasting time I could've spent researching and bringing myself closer to the fairy realm and Tricia. I want to read her my stories.

"A party?" If it made Gabe happy, then maybe it wasn't completely pointless? "Mm, sure, if you really want to.. I suppose I should shower and get ready for that then." Please, don't make me.

"We don't have to go if you aren't into it." I closed my eyes again as he bent down to kiss me quickly. "I'm happy to stay here with you."

"Thank you." He understood me, as always. I felt the pull at the corners of my mouth, that strange pull that made me smile without having to force myself to. I'd written a new story, the pages of which were currently scattered over my desk and the floor of my room, and I wanted to read it to him. Normally, letting others read my stories were connected to some sort of bad feeling, in one way or another, but never with him. I could tell him anything, or read him any story, and it only made me feel happy. You're the only reason I'd even change my mind about going to the fairy realm. "I wrote a new story.." I spun my chair around so I could face him properly. "Maybe we could just stay in and.. Watch a movie or something?" There wasn't really a point to watching a movie set in a pointless world, but I knew that was what normal couples did, and I knew being normal was important, so maybe Gabriel would want to do something like that.. Though I really wanted him to hear my story first. Hid opinion meant a lot.

"Can I see it?" He held out his hands to me, and I took them and let him pull me up. "How about we go cuddle on your bed and you can read it to me?"

There it was again, proof that he understood me without me having to say anything. When I was on my feet I kissed him gently, hoping it'd be enough to convey how grateful l was to him. "Mm, that sounds great. Just give me a sec to gather up the pages." After brushing my lips against his quickly I let go of his hands and started to collect the pages, sorting them as he flopped down on the bed. I sat down next to him, putting and arm around his waist and pulling him close before I started to read, trying to give every character its own voice and show their emotions. I'd had always loved books and audio books. A good storyteller made all the difference, and I wanted to be one.

As I reached the end of the story I kissed his temple. "What did you think?" The possible answers to that question made me nervous, but not in a bad was as it would have if I'd asked anyone else.

"I love it." He sounded sincere, as always. Not like he said it because he pitied me or thought he had to. "I love all of your stories, but I think this one is especially good."

At that I kissed him again, the happiness making me feel a bit greedier. "Thank you. I dreamt about it, so I wanted to write it down." It was through my dreams that I learned about the fairy realm, and Tricia was usually the one telling me about her adventures and retelling that of others. I couldn't let myself forget about anything she told me, as it might be important to my journey there. "..So that I don't forget," I added.

He kissed me again, almost before I had finished the sentence and as I felt him sliding one of his hands in under my shirt and onto my back I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, not wanting the kiss to ever end. It lasted for quite a while, and I could feel both our breaths picking up, and eventually I was forced to pull away to be able to focus on breathing, but I also realized there was something I had wanted to ask.. Though I still wasn't completely sure I should.

"I heard Jason is coming back tomorrow.. Do you think it'll be alright?" If Gabe was worried about it, I wanted to know so I could comfort him, or tell him anything that might make him less so.

He stayed silent for some time before finally answering. "I can't wait to see him again. But I don't know if it's going to be okay. Everyone knows what happened, and I don't know what life is going to be like when he gets back." He sighed, and it was quite obvious that he was both stressed and worried about it. I don't want you to feel bad. Let me help. "Do your dads keep any alcohol around the house?"

Was that really a good idea? I knew alcohol had a nice, numbing effect on emotions, but Gabe was rather young and I knew he already had a problem with it, and I didn't want to encourage that. "Mm, they do.. Do you want me to get something?" I asked as I stroked his hair, hoping he'd think it was comforting.

"In a little bit. I want to lay here with you for awhile." I wasn't sure if it was a good thing that I asked. He didn't seem so concerned about it before, but at least it was better that I could comfort him than that he'd have to hide it. I hated hiding my feelings from people, yet I was force to do so all the time. Since Gabe was my exception and outlet, I wanted to be the same for him.

"Okay.. I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have asked, but I was worried." I kept stroking his hair, knowing that I like whenever he did that to me. "I'm sure it'll be fine.. And no matter what happens you can always come here whenever you want to." I want you to be here all the time.

"Thank you." He looked up at me with a slight smile, looking better already. I'm helping. I'm useful. "I love you, you know."

I froze for a moment, my head going blank. He loved me? No, he couldn't possibly. I loved him, more than anything, but he couldn't love me back. That was how it had always been. "You do?" I couldn't think of a reason why he would. What little good I could do for him surely wasn't enough, and I had consciously tried to make people love me before and it never worked, ever. Why would he love me when I hadn't even tried to make him, and when he wasn't even expected to? "Why?"

His smile faded, and I couldn't help but feel worried. This wasn't how I was expected to respond. I was supposed to believe him and tell him that I loved him too, but telling someone that had always seemed so odd, even if I did. I always tried to show it in any way I could, but I had stopped expecting to get any kinds of feelings in return long ago. "What? Why wouldn't I?"

I could give him plenty or reasons, many of which I had been told directly by several foster parents, and others that I had been told in less direct ways by psychologists, but none that I felt like repeating. They all hurt, even though they were in the past. "There are a lot of reasons.. And no one else ever loved me before, so why would I be any different to you?"

"Henry..." He frowned. I'd definitely reacted in the wrong way. "Henry, I love being with you and... and I love you. Please don't forget that, okay?"

His expression was as sincere and warm as always. Do you really..? But you can't. It's not possible. Why would I suddenly be loved without even trying to? For a second I felt like my eyes might tear up as both bad and good emotions mixed into something I couldn't put words to, and I quickly burred my face into his shoulder, hugging him a bit tighter. "Thank you." I meant it. I wasn't sure if he really loved me, but if he did.. If he did then I owed him more than I could ever repay.

He ran his fingers through my hair again and held me close. "You deserve to be loved."

I didn't agree, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to, but I didn't want to argue about it and make him change his mind. Even if it wasn't true it was nice to hear.. It was really nice to hear. "Thank you." Being held like that made me feel like a child, but not in a bad way. Not in the way that Lyle forced me to by talking to me like I was stupid, but in the way that I'd rarely allowed myself to feel before since I knew there wouldn't be someone there to comfort me or take care of me.. But now there was. "Please, promise you'll come to the fairy realm.. Eventually, when you're ready." I wanted him to come with me. I wanted him to be right next to me all the time, and I could hardly even imagine going there on my own any more.

"I will. I like this world, so I think I'm going to wait awhile." I felt his face and breath against my hair, in what I assumed to be a kiss. "I'm going to keep telling you until you really believe me."

I nodded slightly to that. I wanted to hear it again, many times, but I knew I couldn't exactly ask for it. I'd asked for it before, and it never ended well. "Please do.." I pulled away a bit so I could kiss him again. "You should live here.. Or with me. I'm thinking of getting my own place." I had been thinking about it for some time, first only as a way of giving me more time to read up on what I needed to go to the fairy realm, but now it had turned into a way to be with Gabe all the time, and to make sure that he didn't have to go home to his dad when he didn't want to.

He smiled, and once again I felt oddly compelled to smile. I love that smile. "I'd like that. A lot. I can't keep dealing with my dad, and technically I'll be legally allowed to move out... tomorrow."

I stroke his cheek, happy he agreed, and also happy that he'd finally be an adult legally and free to do what he wanted. "Then I'll make sure to get an apartment as soon as possible. That'll make it easier for me as well.. I won't have Marty and Lyle looking over my shoulder all the time, so I can do my research in peace." That wasn't the main reason any more.

"We should go look at apartments together sometime." The image of that made me feel all warm inside again. "And you won't have them bugging you, but I'm going to at least make sure you take care of yourself, alright?"

I nodded, though I didn't quite understand it. I wanted to take care of him, but that he wanted to do the same for me was a little unbelievable. People didn't usually want to take care of me unless they were legally obliged to. "Why does it matter if I take care of myself or not? I don't plan on staying here for much longer." Only as long as you're with me. Though I probably shouldn't be saying that out loud. It made him look sad. "But yes.. Looking at apartments together sounds nice."

"Can't you please stick around for awhile? I would miss you so much if you left now." He hugged me a bit tighter as he said so, as if he physically asking me to stay longer. "What would I do in a new apartment all by myself?

I didn't want that. I didn't want him to be alone, and I didn't want to go to the fairy realm without him.. Though I still wanted to go. I wanted to see Tricia. I wanted to write her stories and read them to her again, and I wanted to make her smile. But I want to make you smile as well."I don't.. I don't know." Carefully I repeated the question from before: "Can't you come with me? I'd miss you otherwise." I knew it wasn't what I wanted, and I knew he didn't believe in it like I did, but I also knew that him agreeing would probably make me happier than ever before.

"I have a lot left to do here first, I can't leave yet. And I want you to stay here with me." And I wanted to be with him..

I didn't know what I could possibly say to convince him, so I once again accepted that he wouldn't come with me for now. "When you're done with the things you need to do, will you come with me then?"

He nodded. "I love you."

Did that mean yes or no? I wasn't sure, and the uncertainty made me just as uneasy as his words made me happy. I wasn't going to press it though. It was never good to press things. "I love you too.. I think." I didn't mean to add that last thing, as I knew more than well enough that I lived him, but it felt so odd to say it that I couldn't help it. Even though he had told me just a second ago that it was the way he felt as well, I still expected some kind of refusal in response for saying it myself.

He kissed the top of my head again. "You know, we should probably tell your dads about our relationship. I'm not sure what the hell they think we're doing up here, but I'm pretty sure they still don't know."

I didn't really want them to know. I liked that I could be with Gabe without someone having an opinion about it that I didn't care for.* "Mm, I suppose. Does that mean we should tell your parents too?"

"Mm, maybe we should just go make out in my living room and hope my dad finds us so he'll finally kick me out and I won't have to deal with his shit." He laughed, but I doubted he really took it as easily as he made it seem. I knew it bothered him, and I wished I could do something about it.

"I wouldn't mind. I could kick his ass for you." I pulled up to brush my lips against his. "Or we could just.. You know, tell your mum. If you want to." I wasn't going to force him to tell anyone he didn't think should know, and I hoped he'd do the same for me. Not that I think Marty and Lyle would mind.. Hopefully.

"Mm, maybe that's a better idea. I think I've got an even better one for now, though." He kissed me before revealing his plan. "How about we go steal some of your dads' booze and then come back and make out up here?"

"I'm not really sure I should be giving booze to a minor." The teasing smile was a bit forced this time, as I'd actually prefer not to drink, or rather, not to let him drink. "Though I suppose you won't be a minor for much longer, so it's probably alright." I sat up slowly, sighing as I didn't really like the idea of having to pull away from him "Come on then. I know where they hide the best stuff." It still felt weird taking anything from the house that I hadn't bought myself, including food. It never felt like it was even partially mine, though I even started paying some rent after I got my job at the library.

"There's a lot of things you shouldn't be doing with a minor," he said, lowering his voice as we left my room. Everyone seemed to have gone to bed already, luckily. The giving alcohol to a minor thing probably wouldn't fly as well with Marty and Lyle.

"Then I suppose we should celebrate the last day that I'm not allowed to do those things." I took his hand as I led the way down the stairs to the ground floor and to the little cabinet I knew contained quite a few kinds of booze, grabbing a bottle of whatever looked the strongest. "This should be good enough for a celebration, don't you think?"

"Mm, perfect." He tugged at my hand and le the way back to my room, closing and locking the door as soon as we were inside.

Was it strange that I found him a bit too eager whenever alcohol and drugs were involved? I had taken medicines before that would be classed as drugs, and it did indeed make me feel better, so I probably shouldn't worry about Gabe.. But I still did. If there was some emotion he didn't like, I wanted to be what made it go away, not drugs or alcohol. I wasn't sure if I should tell him this or not. Maybe he'd get angry with me. He got angry with his mother when she told him he should stop, and I didn't want him to leave me like that. "Do you want to start?" I held up the bottle to him, still feeling like I was doing something wrong.

"Mm." He took the bottle and opened it, taking a long drink before giving it back to me.

I sat down on the bed before drinking, knowing well enough how alcohol could make your worries go away and the world seem like a much nicer, more important place. When I drank enough it made me feel like a normal person in the way I viewed the world, which I knew wasn't quite right. Why does everyone like this world so much when there's another so much better just within their reach? I couldn't help but make a face before handing the bottle back to him. "That is.. Foul. I bet it was expensive as well." I would probably buy a new bottle before they noticed, as I hated freeloading.. Even though I knew that wasn't the way you were supposed to feel about your "parents".

Gabe just shrugged. "The drunker you get the less you care." I watched him with worry as he drank more, quicker than I would've liked him to, take a pause and then drink even more. "This stuff's not too bad. The cheaper stuff tastes worse." He sat down in my lap somewhat suddenly and gave the bottle back.

I didn't really want to drink any more, but if I did I'd probably stop feeling so bad about it and be able to enjoy myself properly, which I wanted to. Any time I spent with Gabe was far too precious to waste with worrying. And so, I drank more. A lot more, forcing the burning liquid down my throat before putting it down on the floor before Gabe could take it again. The warmth and the feeling of my balance being slightly off had already set in. "Why do you know what the cheaper booze tastes like?" I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer, letting my worries disappear as I kissed him greedily. "You drink way too much for someone your age." I grabbed his hair and gently tugged his head to the side so I had free access to bit and kiss his neck.

"Nah, it's fine.." He tilted his head back even more. "You're good at that."

I let Gabe push me back against the mattress and pull my shirt off. "I'm not used to drinking this much.." I smiled a little as I slid my hands down his sides and pulled his shirt off as well the alcohol kicking in a bit quicker than I expected it to.

"Youu... are really pretty without your shirt on. And with your shirt. But mostly without it." I grinned at his words, letting him do whatever he wanted to me and finally letting go completely of those worries, instead feeling quite happy that I'd probably sport quite a few marks tomorrow.

Friday the 18th of September
Gabe left around noon to go pick up Jason, after cooking quite a breakfast and promising to come by tomorrow, and I decided that I might as well make the most of the day since I had already called in sick. I'd promised him I'd start looking for apartments and that I'd text him about it later, so after he left I went back up to my room and started searching, finding quite a few apartments that were close enough to the school and that weren't too expensive. I didn't earn all that much from my temporary job, but it was enough to rent an apartment and afford food, so I didn't really need to worry about it. If I wasn't able to make end meet I could always use some of Mina's contacts to get a painting or two sold.

Out of all of my new - they still strangely new, even though it had been almost 10 years - family members, Mina was probably the one I had managed to open up the most to. I liked painting with her, and she was openminded enough to not call me insane when I seemed a bit too interested in fairies. If I had time I'd go visit her later.

It was odd, really, that the two of them, Gabe in particular, made me plan ahead for a life in this world, and actually made me appreciate it. I'd still much rather go to the fairy realm, but not without Gabe.. And I knew for sure that I'd miss my family if they didn't come with me. I doubted they would miss me, but that was how it had always been. I don't know what I want any more. Was Tricia lonely? I didn't think so, since she had the fairies.. But surely she missed having someone from her family there with her?

I shook my head slightly, knowing I'd just feel even more conflicted if I kept thinking about it, and instead sent a few pictures of the different apartments in a text to Gabe, hesitating before adding "I love you" to the end of it. I still felt so odd, even just to write it, but hopefully I'd get used to saying it, as well as that incredibly warm and soft feeling of being loved.

After a while I started feeling sleepy, and decided to take a nap when I heard someone come home. It always felt better to sleep when there was someone else in the house, even though they didn't know or care I was there.

***

After what must've been at least an hour I woke up again, my headache finally gone, and I could hear two faint voices coming from downstairs since I hadn't closed the door to my room. Marty and Myra, apparently. I should go down and talk to him, about Gabriel and the fact that I wanted to move out.

I waited for them to finish their conversation before heading downstairs, avoiding to look at Myra as she always seemed so annoyed when I did.

"Marty, could I talk to you about something?"
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Thu Dec 18, 2014 6:12 pm
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DragonGirl11 says...



Elliot


For Elliot, it was almost a day like any other day. He went to school, did his work, and hung out with his friends. The only difference was the knowledge of Jason's homecoming sitting at the back of his mind, worrying him slightly. Had he changed in three years? Elliot only partially remembered him from before. From what he could remember, Jason had always been a good big brother, but Elliot had heard things. He had eavesdropped on more than one occasion, catching half of a conversation through a door or part of a story from the top of the stairs. What if Jason was actually... bad somehow, like people thought?

Elliot managed to push his worries away during recess, distracted by play, so his friends never noticed anything was the matter. If his teacher saw how he chewed a little harder on his pencil over his math work, she didn't say anything, just gave him a funny little look when she thought he wasn't looking.

At the end of the day, Elliot sat on the edge of a planter by the school entrance, swinging his legs and bouncing his heels off the concrete. He had decided that Jason coming home was a good thing. He couldn't be too bad, after all, and it would be nice to have another guy around the house again. Maybe Jason would even help him play tricks on Lucy. Recognizing his mother's car pulling up, Elliot hopped off the planter and climbed in the back seat.

Just a few more minutes and he'd basically have a new big brother. Elliot smiled brightly.
~*~

"You could look at the raindrops on your window, or you could look through the window and see the rainbow."
~K.C. Oxford

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Fri Dec 19, 2014 3:09 am
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CowLogic says...



David (Father Frey)

"Sunrise, sunset, sunrise, sunset..."

The slumbering bear shows life. He shuffles in discomfort, a loud noise interrupting his dreams of milk and honey.

"Seedlings turn overnight to sunflowers..."

The bear is half-awake now. All he feels is a headache. He reaches out a massive paw and attempts to smash the offending device that emitted the rooster's cry. He misses, hits the nightstand. He tries again, this time successfully slaughtering the snooze button. He grunt, sits up in his bed, surveys his dark cave.

Goes to pull on his bear suit... remembers that he doesn't have a job right now, just drops the dirty chinos he was about to pull over his considerable bear bulk.

He crawls out the door and into the adjacent room, what humans call a "kitchen," where they keep "food," what he, the mighty grizzly, merely refers to as "more accessible prey."

He grabs a bowl and a box of Cap'n Crunch. No milk in the fridge. He uses some rum instead, brewing the blackest of coffees, blacker than the people that populated his late father's nightmares. God bless that man's soul, as it needs all the blessing it can get.

His large bear teeth crush through the cereal as they have crushed through deer bone many-a-time. It is a masculine time.

Then one of his cubs wanders in (the only cub who refused to stay by the mother's side at that). His cub is already dressed (the bear had only some boxer shorts and a stained wifebeater on), looking like he's been up for a while. He gives the grizzly a quick glance, and grabs his shoes.

That's when David realizes that he is not a bear. Bears are big and strong. They're predators. David is just prey. He's prey because he's so intimidated by just looking at his son. When he sees Gabe, he at first is afraid. Why is a murderer in his house?

But no, it is the murderer's brother, at fault no more than he.

He doesn't remember Gabe going out this early during the summer... ever. Why now?

He resists the urge to ask. He looks down from his son, staring at the cereal, but not eating it. Not engaged.

Oh god, how he wishes he had the balls to talk to his son. Was it Gabe's fault that the Collins girl died? Was it Gabe's fault that David started drinking heavier than ever? Was it Gabe's fault that he got kicked out of the house, out of the family.

Not Entirely, barely. no. He loves Gabe; why won't he just talk to him? Give him a hug, for Pete's sake?

He gathers some courage and looks back up, just as Gabe slams the door.

That's the goodbye he gives his own father? Dave throws the bowl against the wall. It shatters to pieces and he flips the table. He makes a guttural sound. Who does Gabe think he is anyway? Acting like he owns this house, leaving without telling the true owner where he's going. Just like his damn brother with the deception.

A trickle of cold rum touches David's bare toe as it trickles through the seams of the linoleum. He instantly calms down. He sweeps up the glass and throws it the trash. He mops up the cereal gunk and distilled molasses with a washcloth.

He takes a crap and a cold shower. Has another cup of coffee with baileys. Goes outside in a bathroom, gets the newspaper, looks around, bleary-eyed.

Tries to read the paper. More news about Ferguson. Thinks some obligatory covertly racist comments to himself. Reads the job listings. Circles a few.

At some point, he realizes that it's late enough in the morning for hard alcohol, so he imbibes. He cries, long and hard, for what feels like two hours, but is actually 17 minutes and 34 seconds, give or take a few tears.

He opens his phone and stares at his contact picture of Lacy. He thinks he's going to cry again but realizes he's too dehydrated to do so. Pours himself another glass. He hovers his thumb over the "Send New Message" button on the touch screen next to her picture.

After what seems like two hours, but it actually less than 45 seconds, he makes the rash decision to press the button. Now he's typing a fake short love letter that he doesn't intend to send. "Forgive em babie. im sorry... i won't do it again ill chnge bby."

He wants to add one of those smiley faces, but doesn't know how, and he's trying to figure out how when he realizes that his thumb is now rebelliously and dangerously close to the "Send button" on the bottom of the touch screen. He fights the will of this errant limb for what seems like two hours

but is actually about two seconds

and gives up, letting his digit release it's heat into the sensors of the cellular device. He instantly regrets it, and tries to block the message from being sent, but it's already sent. Can he take it back? He doesn't know exactly how he can do that.

He sits down at Gabe's computer, which he uses when Gabe isn't around, and tries to look up how he can take the message back on google, but somehow gets distracted ends up on a website called wildolderwomen.sixsixsix.ne-t and finally on a forum website discussing effective ways of suicide by poisoning. He reads intently for a few minutes and realizes what he's doing and chooses to ignore it, flipping out of the screen and closing the laptop.

He waits for Lacy to respond. He has a drink. He explores the four rooms in the little house. He has a drink. He checks his phone. Has a drink. Walks around the house. Checks the phone. Watches some TV. Has a drink. Tries to walk around the house, but has to sit down at the kitchen table because hes too dizzy.

After he sobers up a little, he decides to go for a walk, get some fresh air. He struggles into clothes that are a little too tight and locks the door on his way out. He crosses the street without looking for cars and heads up Washington Ave. The houses start to grow larger and larger and further apart as he goes. They also get less run down. There starts to be fewer people loitering on porches or on corners.

He's out on a walk. He just wants to get away. From thoughts of his wife, his kids. This is a man's day out, walking his adopted neighborhood, in his full rights. Now he's stopping at a particularly nice hose, looking at it with admiration. He goes up to the porch to examine the building material.

He tries the door. Locked. He uses the the key he has in this pocket. Unlocked.

There is no one in the front room. He goes to the kitchen and sees a plate of cookies on the counter. He eats one. Then another. When he turns around, Gabe is behind him. Only it's not Gabe at all. He seems to have just wandered into the house of a murderer.

"Dad," the boy says.

"Jason?" he replies through a mouth full of cookie.

There is a moment of impasse, of either truce or mutual charity. Then David steps towards him and holds out a hand. Jason takes it and shakes it, his grip much stronger than it used to be.

Now they're embracing a short, awkward embrace.

"Uh... how are you?"
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Sun Dec 21, 2014 4:25 am
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queerelves says...



Gabriel Frey | Friday, September 18

We wake up to Henry's alarm screaming at us. The sharp sound makes my head throb, and when Henry covers his ears and mumbles, "Make it stop..." I know he's as hungover as I am. I try to ease the headache by slamming at the snooze button on the alarm, but without my glasses everything is a haze and I can't manage to find the right button. Not a problem, though. I pick up the alarm and chuck it across the room; during its flight it unplugs itself and the harsh beeping stops.

Peace. I pull the blankets over our heads to block out the light that streams in through the windows, and finally I'm able to enjoy the morning again. It's a good morning. I'm exactly where I want to be: with Henry, wrapped up in his arms. He buries his face in my hair, and I think, This is perfect, until he reminds me that we are not the only two people in the world. "I'm supposed to go to work... and you to school."

I already know I'm taking the day off. Jason is coming home—finally coming home—and hell if I won't be there to hug him as soon as he steps off the train. Since the day the trial ended I've had it in my head what it will be like when we saw each other again. I'll hold him, tell him how much I missed him and how much I loved him; he'll do the same. Nothing will keep me from that, not the temptation of staying in bed with Henry all day and certainly not school. But that doesn't mean I can't spend the first half of my day with Henry. I tell him, "Call in sick. I'm staying home, so we can stay in bed for a little longer," and worm my way closer to him.

He seems content with the idea until he hesitates a moment and groans, "How will I be able to get an apartment if I don't have any money...?" He blinks his eyes open and adds, "And you shouldn't be skipping school so often." It's my turn to groan now. He's right and I know it, but I don't want to hear about school any more than I have to.

"One day won't hurt." I don't know if I can convince him with that alone, so I lay my head on his chest and promise, "If you stay home I'll make you breakfast.

"That sounds really nice." I don't know if that's a yes, but I get my real answer when I watch him pick up his phone and send a text to call in sick. He tosses the phone back on the nightstand and wraps his arms around me again, closes his eyes. Then he sighs. "When do you have to leave?"

“We’re leaving at around noon. I can stay over for a few more hours.”

“Mm, good.” There’s nothing better than the feeling of l here with him as he kisses the top of my head. “I think I’ll start looking for an apartment today… so if you want to and have time you can come by?”

I want to say, Absolutely, because I absolutely do want to go with him—but Jason. And for a split second I think, But Henry, and it occurs to me that things will be much more complicated when Jason comes home. I assumed everything would go back to normal, that Jason and I would pick up our relationship exactly where we left off, that we’d go back to spending nearly every moment with each other. But I assumed everything would stay the same with Henry too, and for the first time I acknowledge that isn’t going to be possible. I'm always going to ask myself, Do I want to spend time with Jason or Henry? Today, I choose Jason. “We’re getting Jason today, and I want to spend time with him. I haven’t seen him in so long.” I pause and make sure to add, “I want to look at apartments too, though.”

Henry pulls me closer, holds me tighter, and I know he doesn’t want me to go. “Mm… I’ll start looking by myself then, and you can tell me what you think later. Two rooms should be enough, right?”

“Yeah, definitely.” His hand moves to my shoulder, and it takes me a minute to realize that his fingers are tracing symbols onto my skin. I smile at him the way I don’t smile at anyone else and carefully kiss him. “You should text me pictures of the places you like.”

Henry nods and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to doze off again, and even though I can’t fall back asleep I lie with him for the next hour. It’s not until my stomach starts grumbling that I finally sit up and nudge Henry. “I’m going to go raid your fridge and make food. I’m starving.”

It takes him a long while to force himself awake again. Between yawns, he mumbles, “I suppose that’s a good idea. Do you need some help or is it alright if I shower first?”

“Go ahead.” I almost ask if I can join him, but for once the desire for pancakes is greater than the desire for sex. I don’t drag myself out from under the covers for another few minutes. I make sure to kiss Henry first, and then stagger over to his dresser. “Do you mind if I steal some clothes?” Mine are dirty, crumpled on the floor where we threw them last night; I have no desire to put them back on.

He says, “Not at all,” and I start rummaging through his t-shirt drawer. Henry pulls himself up after another moment, stretching, yawning. He walks over to me, stopping to kiss my shoulder again before grabbing some clothes and making his way to the shower. I pick out a shirt that’s just slightly too big and find my underwear from the floor. I see no point in pants; Henry’s the only other one in the house, and I’m sure he won’t mind.

I’m more comfortable in this house than I am in my own, and I easily make my way down to the kitchen. Their kitchen is full of food—a contrast to the whiskey and ramen at home—and I look for everything I need to make the breakfast I’ve planned out in my head. Eggs, bacon, pancake batter, butter, and milk are all there, as well as the pans I need to cook everything in. It’s easy to immerse myself in cooking, and there’s enough to pay attention to that I don’t have the time to think or worry about anything else.
It’s while I’m not thinking or worrying about anything else that I hear the front door open. I jump a foot in the air, hiss, ”Shit,” not expecting to see anyone other than Henry. I only have a second to wonder who it is before Marty walks into the kitchen, looking at me over the top of a paper. “Good… morning, Mister Frey,” he says.

I don’t know what he’s thinking about, what he's thinking of me cooking breakfast in his kitchen with no pants and a hickey that wasn’t there when he saw me yesterday. I can only say, “...Hi,” as I watch him and wait to see if he’ll question what I’m doing or leave without comment.

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he leans against the counter and steals a piece of bacon. “I’m glad you’re cooking this stuff; it was all about to go bad.” He licks the grease off of his fingers before thumping my shoulder and sitting down at the table, going right back to his paper. “Cooking for just us two? Or will someone else be joining us?”

I tell him, “Henry’s coming down. He’s in the shower now,” and uncomfortably pull at the hem of my shirt. He’s not questioning what I’m doing here; he has to know about Henry and me, but I’m not sure how. But when I think back, it’s not like we tried to hide it very well. There are a lot of nights where they could’ve heard us, seen us, connected the dots on their own.

For a moment, Marty doesn’t respond. When he does, he says, “You misspelled ‘incongruity’ in your review on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Mr. Frey,” and I realize it’s my essay he has in his hand. “Henry always showers for exactly eighteen minutes, so we have a minute to talk if you’d like.”

I slowly nod, and as I sit down across from him I try to glance at the paper. He must notice, because he holds up the paper for me to see. A large ‘A’ is marked on the top of it, and I smile slightly. I didn’t expect anything higher than a 70. “Highest score so far, Mr. Frey.” He tears a piece off his pancake before continuing. “You should think of going into journalism after college, Gabe. You’re very eloquent where it counts.” He takes another pause. “But I’m sure Henry tells you that.” I can’t help but smile a little more.

I appreciate the praise—and the grade—but I have to hesitantly admit, “I don’t think I’m going to college. School’s not really my thing,” and I hope it doesn’t make him think less of me. As much as I don’t want to care about his opinion, or anyone else’s, I can’t help but want his approval.

“That’s a shame,” he says, and I’m glad to hear that his voice doesn’t sound judgemental. “Though I’m sure your grades will be excellent this year…. I mean, as long as Henry is safe and happy… and tutoring you.” It takes me a minute too long to realize what he means, and when I do I nod, surprised.

We hear the water upstairs turn off. When it does, Marty grabs his keys and stands up. “Just tell him I stole a pancake. No need to worry him with… things, yeah?”

I nod again and admit, “I- he’s important to me. I’ll do anything to make him happy.” It feels strange to admit this, especially to Marty, but I find myself readily doing so. I want him to know how I feel about Henry.

I watch Marty as he nears the archway to the hall, and he nods. He keeps his eyes on me, saying, “Henry is very important to us.” He goes to leave but then turns back one final time. “I’ll see you in class, Mr. Frey. If I were you, though, I’d cover up those chicken legs at school.” He winks at me and I go red.

It’s only a minute later that Henry comes downstairs. I break into a smile as soon as I hear him walking up behind me. He says, “That smells wonderful,” as he wraps his arms around my waist and presses his lips to my neck. I lean my head back and shiver, thinking for a moment how nice it’d be to push him up against the pantry and forget about breakfast. But I don’t.

“I hope it tastes good, too.” It’s been awhile since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself, and I hope I didn’t mess anything up. Marty seemed pleased with what he ate, but who would complain about free breakfast? “I made pancakes, bacon, and eggs.”

“Oh?” Henry brushes his lips against my neck again. “That sounds like it might be the best breakfast I’ve had in ages.” He hasn’t even tasted it yet and I’m already proud of myself. “Do we have any syrup for the pancakes?”

I laugh a little and tell him, “I don’t know. It’s your house,” and I suddenly spin around to face him. I lean my forehead against his, kiss him, whisper, “I love you.” I said I’d tell him until he believed me, and I don’t plan to back down from that. I’ll tell him a hundred times a day if it makes him know he’s really loved.

Eagerly, he kisses me back, stopping to study my face, and he says, “I love you too.” My heart beats a little faster when he says it, and I suddenly feel like a middle schooler with a crush—but I realize I don’t even care. I couldn’t care less if this is cheesy, romcom material, because I really do love him and even feeling like a twelve year old won’t stop me from acting on it. He continues with, “You actually make me want to stay here a little longer… Until I can convince you to come with me.”

For the next ten seconds I don’t breathe, because I’m reminded once again that I might not have much time left with Henry. I don’t care that he believes in the fairy realm. It’s a belief, almost a religion, just as valid as anyone else’s. But I care when he tells me he wants to go there now. The thought of him being gone, gone forever, feels suffocating. Whenever he mentions his suicide I feel like someone’s standing on my chest, I feel I’m being buried alive. Without hesitation I plead, “Please do. You have a reason to stay now. I love you, and we’re going to move in together. So you should stick around to enjoy how nice that’s going to be.”

He finally says, “Mm, that doesn’t sound too bad,” and I let out a sigh of relief. He rests his head on my shoulder and I finally think that there’s a chance he might not kill himself. But then he continues, “Though this world has no magic… and I’m sure Tricia misses my stories,” and I’m back to worrying.

“Yeah, but this world has other nice things, like...” I try to hastily come up with something. “Gay bars, and Disney World. And me.”

I reach up to stroke his hair and he mutters, “Gay bars and Disney World… that’s hardly magical.” He at least smiles. “Not that I’ve been to either.”

“But Disney’s the most magical place on earth,” I tease, going to get two plates. When he doesn’t laugh, I change the subject. “I hope there’s enough food for both of us. There was more, but Marty came home and stole some.”

“Marty came home?” Henry looks caught off guard, and he asks, “How did he react?”

I’m never sure if Henry cares what his family thinks of him. He says he doesn’t, but I don’t know if I believe him. Just in case, I quickly tell him, “He was a little surprised to find me half naked in your kitchen, but he didn’t really react badly. Not badly enough to keep from stealing my pancakes, at least.”

“That’s… good. At least that saves us the trouble of telling them. That just leaves your parents” He sits down at the table with a bottle of maple syrup, piling several pancakes onto his plate and topping it off with way too much syrup. I watch him shovel food into his mouth, only pausing to say, “This is awesome.”

“Good.” I immediately grin, more than pleased that Henry’s happy with what I cooked. I quickly finish what I took before putting my plate in the sink and turn around to watch Henry. He inhales the rest of his food and wraps his arms around me from behind.

“You have to go soon, don’t you?” I can tell by his voice and how tightly he hugs me that he doesn’t want me to leave.

I don’t want to disappoint him; I don’t want to make him upset. But I still have to say, “Yeah, I do.”

“Mm…” He wraps his arms a little tighter around me, and I relax back into him. “I’ll text you pics of the apartments I find.” He kisses my neck in between words. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

“Of course.” There’s no way that I wouldn’t. “I’ll text you later, too,” I tell him, turning my head to kiss him. He buries his hand in my hair to keep me from pulling away—not that I would—and for a long while we stand in the middle of his kitchen like that. Again, I have the urge to shove him against the pantry and take this a step further, but I still don’t.

We’re both breathing heavily when Henry finally pulls back. When he catches his breath, he says, “You should probably get dressed before you leave. You can borrow some pants if you want to.”


“Mmm, good. And I’m keeping this shirt. It’s soft and it smells like you.” I plant a careful kiss on his cheek before running back up to his bedroom and tugging on a pair of pants. I make sure to fix my hair as well, not wanting to look like a disheveled mess when I finally see Jason. I don’t think he’d care, but I do.

I’m standing outside Mom’s front door not ten minutes later. It’s been more than three months since I’ve been here, and I hesitate for a few minutes before ringing the doorbell. Mom quickly comes to answer it, and we briefly hug before heading out to the car. We make small talk like normal people, but there’s little more to our conversation than “How are you?” “How have you been?” “How is school going?” It’s awkward, forced, and so we stay quiet for most of the ride.

Our first stop is the high school where we pick up Lucy. I have no clue why she’s coming with us, because from the moment she gets in the car she starts complaining about missing school. Her English class, her so important English class where she’s missing test prep or something else petty. For awhile I don’t say anything about it, but it pisses me off too much to stay quiet. “Is one class honestly more important than your f***ing brother?” Mom snaps at me for swearing at Lucy, but I don’t care. I keep going. “You haven’t seen him in three years. Don’t you miss him? At all?”

She stops talking about school.

The train station isn’t far away, and it takes us only a few minutes to get there. As soon as we park the car I’m jumping out, running to where the trains let off. His train isn’t here yet but I hear it coming down the tracks; it feels like hours until it slows to a stop and opens its doors. I look from person to person, trying to spot Jason. When I do, I freeze.

For a minute, I can’t move, breathe, speak. He looks so different, but I recognize him immediately, and as soon as I can form words again I’m choking out, “Oh my God. Jason.” It’s then that he sees me, and we lock eyes. I watch him smile at me and I do what I’ve imagined I would: I pull him into the tightest hug I can manage, and as soon as the embrace starts I feel myself start crying. I try to fight back the tears, murmuring, “Shit, no, I’m not going to cry-”

He wraps his arms around me, buries his face in my hair. The past three years have been miserable, but now I feel like everything’s going to be alright. “I missed you so much… I was so worried.”

I didn’t want him to worry, I didn’t want him to be upset that we weren’t together, but it feels so good to know that he didn’t stop caring about me. When I tell him, “I never, ever stopped missing you,” I really start sobbing.

Jason promises, “I’m out now… I’m coming home and I won’t leave again.” He pulls away slightly, giving me a small smile before wiping the tears off my cheek.

I’m about to tell him I love him when I hear Mom call, “Jason!”

We both turn to look at her, and I try to dry my eyes. I don’t want her to know I’m crying; those tears are for Jason. I hear him say, “Hi, Mum,” but I’m not paying attention to their interaction. I study Jason as she leads us back to the car, trying to memorize every detail of him. I have trouble believing this is real, that he’s not going to be whisked away from me again, and I want to make sure that I remember everything in case this is only temporary. God, I hope it’s not.

I sit beside him in the back seat, still not taking my eyes off of him. He looks out the window and he starts tapping his fingers on his legs—a piano tune?—but he abruptly clenches his hand into a fist. I cover his hand with my own and offer him a small smile, asking, “Are you alright?”

He nods, looks down at our hands and tells me, “It just feels weird.”

“Bad weird?”

This time he shakes his head. “Not quite… I was scared that something happened to you… or you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

I think, That’s crazy, I love you, but that’s not what I say. “I’m okay. And nothing could make me not want to see you again.” I smile more when I remember something. I lean in and kiss his cheek, whispering, “Happy birthday.”

He pulls me into a hug and says, “Right back at you.”

The ride back feels so much shorter, and only minutes later we’re pulling into the driveway. I’ve completely forgotten that everyone else exists because now, no one else really matters. I lead him upstairs, and the moment we’re alone I think about kissing him. I almost do it, but then Henry—just across the street—flashes into my mind and I decide against it.

Instead, I hug Jason again. He says, “Tell me everything. How have you been, what did you do, what books did you read? Did you start eating a new kind of cereal? Anything.”
I stammer out, “There’s so much. I- I made you something. A present. I left it out in the car, I’ll be right back.” I reluctantly pull away from him but I’m back in a flash, this time carrying a large, wrapped box. I sit it in his lap and tell him to open it.

I carefully watch his reaction as he unwraps it and pulls out three thick scrapbooks. “I’ll read every bit of these… one for each year, right?” He smiles and starts to flip through the first one, running a finger over one of the pictures. “Thank you.”

“I took pictures every day. I guess it’s kind of cheesy, but I wanted something to give you when you came home.” It was more than cheesy; it was a little obsessive. I made a page for each day, filled it with pictures and little blurbs about what had happened and what I was thinking. It became almost like a journal, and I wanted it to be like he had never been gone.

“You’re free to be as cheesy as you want with me.” He shrugs and hugs the scrapbooks against his chest, and he turns serious again quickly. “Will my return feel really strange?”

“Things are a bit… different,” I say, even though that doesn’t really answer his question. Things are so different that I hardly know where to start, so I just go with the biggest. “Mom and Dad aren’t together anymore.” I’m not sure if he’s guessed that already. Probably, because he doesn’t look very surprised.

“Ah… And I guess they separated around the same time I got here? Or did it take them awhile?”

I sigh and admit, “Yeah,” hoping that he doesn’t blame himself. “Their relationship kind of went to shit and they split up. Lucy and Elliot live here with Mom, I live with Dad a couple blocks away.”

He seems to take a moment to take that in, nodding slowly. “So that’s why I haven’t seen Dad yet… How did you and the others take it?”

“The divorce itself wasn’t that bad. Nobody really fought, they just decided they wanted out.” And in the least subtle way I can, I tell him about Dad and me. “Oh, also it turns out that Dad is a piece of shit.”

Jason frowns at that, asking me, “What did he do?”

“He just- he doesn’t do anything. He drinks and he comes home and he yells at me and I yell back and then I leave.” When I notice how worked up I’m getting I stop myself, apologizing. “Sorry. Don’t worry about that now.”

He says, “Of course I’ll worry, you’re my brother. Why aren’t you living with Mum too, then?”

I’m not sure if I want to tell him. If I do, I’ll have to tell him what it was about, and I don’t want him thinking any less of me. But I tell him anyways. “We got in a bad fight and I kind of told her off and we haven’t really seen each other much since.”

After I get the words out, I hurry to change the subject. I lean him and say, “I’m so happy you’re back, though. I missed you so much.” Again, he presses his face into my hair.

“I know. I missed you too… I even missed you hair. Is that weird?” Another smile creeps onto my face as he runs his fingers through my hair. I wrap my arm around him and he asks, “Do you want me to come live with you and Dad?”

“I missed everything about you.” And it’s true. I don’t think there’s a single thing about him that I didn’t miss. “And I’d like that as long as you don’t mind living with Dad.” I neglect mentioning that I might not be living with Dad for too much longer.

“I don’t really care.” He lowers his voice when he says, “I don’t think this house is far enough from our neighbors anyways, and this house is a bit too… full of people? I don’t know what Lucy and Eli think. I don’t even know what they remember.

“Yeah. This is the first time I’ve been over here in, like, months.”

“Mm.. What kind of fight was that, with Mum? I don't remember you ever fought enough to make you not want to see her for a year..." He frowns at me, and I know I’ll have to explain. "If it had to do with me, it wasn't worth it."

I promise that it didn’t have to do anything with him before elaborating. “"No, no, it didn't have anything to do with you. I started getting in trouble, skipping school and going to parties and smoking pot and stuff, and she got really pissed about it... and it kind of spiraled from there." I shrug.

Jason stays silent for what feels like a long time before asking, “Are you still doing those things?”

I look down at my lap, not wanting to answer because I know I’ll disappoint him. I don’t want to lie either, though, so I admit, “Yeah.”

“Why?” He asks, starting to stroke my hair. “And what exactly are you taking?”

"I don't- I don't know. I did it once because I was frustrated and I wanted some way to escape and I just... kept doing it. Pot is the only thing I do regularly. And some pills- oxycodone and adderall and stuff like that." It hits me how bad this must sound and I make sure to add, "It's really not that big of a deal, though."

I don’t think he believes me, but he lets it go. We must spend hours up here talking to each other, catching up on everything, and we don’t leave this room until someone makes us.
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Fri Dec 26, 2014 11:49 pm
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Elinor says...



Myra

That beautiful soundtrack welled up, and the credits came on screen. Myra felt tears well in her eyes. No matter how times she watched Up, it somehow got more beautiful each time. She couldn't say that about a lot of movies. Yeah, it was a kid's movie. So what? With all the awful kids movies that were out there, this was one for the ages, one that she would show her kids twenty years down the line.

She sighed, turned off the TV and the DVD player, and stood up. She sighed, suddenly feeling antsy. Jason was home. And even though she didn't want to see him, the thought of her inevitable interaction with him and how badly her parents were freaking out about it made her not want to be cooped up in the house. She sighed. She needed fresh air to collect her thoughts.

She passed the hallway with Marty's office.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"I'm going to get a coffee."

"Why?" He asked. "Honey, dinner's going to be ready soon."

"I want a coffee now," Myra said. "I'll be back before dinner." She shifted, wishing she didn't have to deal with this, or that Marty wasn't so overprotective and she could just tell him she wanted to take a walk.

"Okay, but be back soon," he said, and with that Myra left.

The streets were quiet, peaceful. She walked a block or so, taking it in as much as she possibly could. It was going to be alright. It really was. There was the bus stop, the same as it always had been. But that was when she saw a familiar face sitting on the bench.

"Jason?"

He turned to Myra with a distant expression, that of a person lost in thoughts. "...Myra." He got up. "Hi."

He was somehow more handsome than Myra remembered him, but there was a saddness, a depth to his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" she managed, kicking herself as soon as the words came out. He was home. That's what he was doing. Everyone knew that.

"I sort of ran away." He pointed at a plastic bag still on the bench. "To get some sugar." His eyes quickly skimmed the space behind her. "Are you alone?"

Myra let out a nervous laugh. What did that mean? "Uh, yes." She thought for a minute about what to say, only to let out another nervous laugh. Of course she was alone. Did he...no. Not possible. "I needed to get out of the house for a second. This day's been kind of crazy."

Jason nodded, glanced at the bag again and bit his lip. "You can relax, you know. I'm only asking because I'm not exactly into seeing any member of your family today." He made a short pause. "Any other member, that is. My own parents and siblings are already giving me enough of the let's-pretend-we-function crap."

"Yeah. Mine are freaking out about nothing." She paused, wanting to say something about Tricia but not knowing how. "I've missed you." She felt redness creep into her cheeks. She missed him? Well, she did, but she'd been over him for a long time. Still, she knew that he wasn't how her family saw him. "What have you been up to?" she blurted. "I'm still in ballet, oh, and I learned how to play the guitar. Other than that, everything's pretty much the same as it always has been." Not wholly true. Sure, on the surface everything in the town was the same. But in every other way, everything was different.

"That's...nice." He sounded distant again, like his thoughts were somewhere else, but seemed to focus again after a few seconds. His voice was somewhat more serious as he spoke again. "It wasn't a vacation, I wasn't exactly up to anything." He shrugged. "I'll be coming back to school on Monday, for that one last year. I think that puts us in the same class now."

"Really?" Myra felt her heart race. Jason nodded.

He was going to be in her class. She would see him every day. In Marty's prescence, too. That would be a bit weird, but she'd manage.

"Well, I'm looking forward to it," Myra managed, feeling redness creep into her cheeks. What was it about being around him that made her act so stupidly? She was pathetic. Still, they continued to talk for a while, as if there was nothing else in the world. As the conversation faded, she excused herself before she could say anything else that was stupid, hoping to take the time to collect herself before she saw him again.

Myra waved, letting a smile escape as she continued the walk. She walked a long while, taking in every moment of it that she possibly could. In spite of everything, she was glowing, anxious for the next time that she would see him. He'd gotten so attractive. And was just as sweet as ever. Maybe now that he was home they would find out who really killed Tricia.

Eventually, she made her way towards home, figuring that she'd been gone a lot longer then it took to get coffee. Indeed, she checked her phone and noticed three missed calls from Marty. She sighed, and as she approached her front door, she took a moment to gather the courage to take whatever lecture awaited.

As she fiddled for her keys, the door opened, and out came Jason's freak brother. They made a moment of awkward eye contact. He shot her a dirty look before scuttling across the street.

Okay then. She took a deep breath, and walked back inside. Marty and Lyle were both in the living room, as were Henry and Tory. Dinner was nearly ready.

"Welcome back," Marty said wryly. "I wasn't aware that getting coffee took over an hour."

"There was a long line."

Marty shrugged. Myra couldn't tell if he knew she was hiding something and just didn't want to challenge her or really believed that. Regardless, whatever had been made smelled delicious. That was always a plus. But she didn't want to talk to them about Jason. It was only bound to make her more upset, to spoil the fuzzy feeling that lingered from their conversation.

All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.

-- Walt Disney





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Wed Dec 31, 2014 8:49 am
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Omni says...



Lyle Collins - Friday, September 18


98.7 XRM radio what's best in town is what's on XRM!

In recent news, 18 year old Jason Frey has been allowed to walk after a long and rigorous trial from the nearby Penitentiary Center. Jason, convicted of murder but tried as a minor, was allowed to walk once he -


I clicked the radio off. Three years. Three years is all he got from murdering my little girl.

I pressed down slightly on the accelerator, feeling the rumble of the Oldsmobile throughout my leg. It was a purr that only older cars could have. I've heard people call me a Granny multiple times for driving this vehicle, but it was the only thing that was mine. It was my one release from reality.

The phone in my pocket vibrated silently. Keeping one hand on the wheel, I fished it out of my pocket somewhat successfully after the third try. It was work.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, heyo Lyle, what happened man? I saw you leave the Thunderdome after you finished your report. Nice report bee-tee-dubs. I really like the idea you have going with Project Christine! Just wanna see some reports! Anyway, man, what happened to you? We have lots of work to do and now we're down to three members."

"Yeah, sorry Anthony. Today's kind of a bad day for me." I straightened the car and kept inside the white lines. Highway traffic was just starting for Lunch break.

"Oh yeah! I heard about something on the television this morning. Something about a boy leaving prison and going home. Does it have something to do with you?"

I sighed silently. Please don't make me go through this again... "Yeah, it's somethin- Hey, I'll talk to you later, Anthony. I'll come back tonight if I have time. We're having family night tonight."

"Oh family night! What's tonight, Monopoly?"

"Anthony, I'm getting a call. Work on the two champions and I'll get to them tonight. Bye."

"Oh, see ya bro, don't for-" I ended the call and tossed the phone to the passenger seat. "I love you and everything, Tony, but sometimes you are just plain annoying." I whispered, rubbing my right temple slowly.

Getting into the right lane, I pulled off onto a small, two-lane "highway." I didn't really know where I was going, but I knew where I would get to eventually. It was the same every time. The town was small enough for me to know where I was and what gets to where. I was never lost, yet, lately, I'm always lost.

Marty had found out what I had been doing about three months ago. The memory was still fresh in my mind.

He walked in one day, after having to babysit the detention class after school, and sat down next to me on the couch. His hand found mine and we just sat there for a few minutes, not caring about the kids or even about the pillow he was sitting on. We were just sitting there, enjoying the extremely horrible and sappy soap operas (I got into them after Tricia died. He got used to it for me, but only barely.) when he turned to me slightly.

"So, when I was watching the detention class, I confiscated a phone from a boy. And you would not believe what I saw on it."

"Hmm?" I asked, tearing myself somewhat from the drama unfolding about the love triangle between Tamara, David, and Angelo, whenever she found out her fiance was actually gay and had affairs with her with the old friend from high school.

"Well, coincidence enough, I saw a picture on his phone that he was showing to his friends. A picture of you."

"What?" That was enough to pull me away from my show. "How did he get a picture of me?"

"He saw you, last night. At the local bar." He pulled out his phone and showed me it. "You told me you were at work, staying late to finish something. Why did you lie to me?"

I sighed and collapsed into my hands. "I don't know why, Marty. There are times where I just... drive. It relaxes me when nothing else really can."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Lyle. I don't care if you do this. Just don't lie to me. Ever since Tricia died, we've all had to do things to cope with it."


My thoughts were interrupted whenever the phone started vibrating on the seatbelt beside me. I picked it up. It was Marty. "Speak of the Devil..." I whispered silently. "Hey, Husbando."

"That's something I haven't heard from you in awhile."

"I was thinking back."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you."

"Oh, ha ha. What do you need?"

"I'm on my Lunch break, so I thought I would call you. How's Thunderdome going?"

I focused on the road. It started to drizzle and the highway had dissolved into a dirt road. I was getting close. "Yeah, about that... I decided to take a break."

"You driving?"

"Yeah, sorry."

I heard a scoff. "Lyle, there's no need for you to be sorry about that. I just don't want to bother you while driving. Oh, before I forget. I picked out the game for family night. I'm also making my famous Doritos casserole. Mina's coming over tonight, so we're going to have a family meeting before she comes over, if we can."

"Are you going to make her play the game tonight?"

I heard a chuckle from the phone. "Oh, you know it. This time, let's try to get the kids to play? I'd rather not have it just be the adults this time around."

I sighed silently. "I don't want to pressure them into it, though."

"Another thing I haven't heard awhile. Remember when pressuring them into something was the only thing you used to do?"

Times have changed. We have changed. "Well, they'll have a lot on their minds."

"That they do. And, while we're on the subject, I've invited the Frey family over for dinner tonight. I haven't heard from them yet, but I did so anyway."

"You picked a wonderful time to do so, Marty."

"I know. I understand the risk, but sometimes, you gotta take the risk." There was a pause. I said nothing, afraid to speak. "Well, I have to go. My lunch break is almost over and I've barely eaten my food. See you when you get home, Bye, love you."

I tried to swallow, but my mouth had suddenly gotten very dry. "Love you, Marty." As if on impulse, I pulled to the side and shifted the gear into park. In all of your wisdom, Marty, why would you do something like this today? Don't we have enough problems to deal with?

I got out of the car, taking my time with unbuckeling myself and opening the door. The rain had stopped, but a fog had taken its place. I had no rush, I knew where I was, knew where to go, where to walk, how long it would take me. I was home. Or at least my home ever since the incident three years ago.

I meandered along the graves, taking my usual path. I had remembered the names on the gravestones leading up to her's. Lara Steele. Mincha Kent. Nathaniel Hanners. Victor Mills. Ruth Gardner,

Tricia Collins.

It was a simple gravestone for a simple girl. Elegant and beautiful, it was the last in its row.and set apart from the other graves by a couple of feet. There were a collection of stuffed animals at the foot of the grave. Some a little more worn than others, they were all kept in good order by the workers at the cemetery.

Kneeling down in front on the grave, I felt the earth gently. "Well, today's the day, Tricia. Jason walks free today." I chuckled softly. "And we're over here inviting them over for freakin dinner! And I'm just supposed to be okay with that? I'm supposed to just live my life like normal while a murderer lives next door? Sorry, my life hasn't been normal for three years."

I looked up to the pale gravestone. "I'm sorry, Tricia. You don't need to know this. I know, I got a present for you, Tricia. I have one for Myra, too. She's growing into quite a young woman." I pulled out a small stuffed rabbit. It had sad eyes that looked like it had just stopped crying, yet it was surprisingly peaceful looking. It was fine with everything in the world right at the moment. "For you, Tricia."

"Goodbye, darling. Time to go face real life again."

Spoiler! :
Sorry this wasn't that long. I would have made it longer but I'm on a tight schedule. However, I have a reason for everyone to come together (only if they want to!). By the time Myra comes back home, Lyle will be home, then they'll probably have their family meeting, then Mina will come and they'll have dinner and then family night! Spoiler alert, I WANT TO PLAY MONOPOLY xD
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Wed Dec 31, 2014 9:24 pm
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Lumi says...



When Marty heard the oven timer ding downstairs, he clumsily folded down his macbook and jogged down the stairs to find Henry in the kitchen, already checking on dinner.

"You know you always set the timer too long," he mused. "There's always, like, that one corner that gets overcooked. The chicken is dry, and it just does something weird to the sauce."

"I think Overcooked is a word that suits it just fine. Besides! That one corner is always Lyle's for punishment for being late to dinner!"

Henry took the dish out of the oven and placed it under the warming lamp over the stove. Then he reached down and fished out a second dish full of the same casserole. "Then who's being punished with Dorito Mk II?"

Marty scratched the back of his head. "Fair point. I, well. I decided to--" Ding! "Let me take this," he said, fishing out his phone. The ID said very plainly:

Lacy Frey
Accept Deny


Accepted. "Lacy! How's my favorite school songbird?"

"Confused, Marty. She's confused." Her voice was like the ambiguous color of a storm cloud after a rain, as if it had always run out of things to say or do, and just looked at you as if saying Sorry, That's All. "I get why you want to treat me to dinner Sunday," she teased, "I mean, who wouldn't? I'm a total catch, Marty, even for a gay man past his prime."

"Oh, Lacy. You flatter me so. Tell me, what's the problem?"

"While I'm all for being treated to dinner at The Pig--that's the literal translation, Marty, and don't forget it when you wonder why there's so much pork on the menu--I'm not convinced that dinner tonight is a good idea."

"Oh! That! Well, I don't think it's a good idea, either, Lacy."

"You don't? Then why'd you invite my family to--"

"You didn't let me finish my sentence. There wasn't really a period there, but really more like a semi-colon. See, I don't think it's a good idea to have dinner together this soon; but the more I think about it, the more I realize that first healing is never really that good of an idea. It's awkward and it hurts, but if you don't clean a wound, Lacy, do you know what happens to it? And I think you do."

"I'm not one of your students, Marty."

"That's right, Lacy. It gets infected."

She sighed. "Gabriel is already headed down the street. I think one or two kids are gonna follow." He could hear the leering in her voice. "Please don't poison them."

"I promise you my cooking isn't that bad."

"Goodbye, Marty."

"Goodbye, Songbird." He'd have to change her contact to Songbird later if he remembered.

"So let me try to put all of this together while Gabe walks up the driveway, because after that I think I'm going to be very occupied tonight."

Marty flashed a sly grin to Henry.

Henry shuffled from one foot to the other before shooting his father a hug and sliding on his socks to the front door.

I'm sure you won't be late for this one, Lyliepop.

Later, Marty put his iPhone on his iHome and turned on iTunes...and played Debussy. Quietly, and to himself, he wondered how much of the Collins' possessions began with i. He gathered around the dinner table with all of his children, Lyle, David, Gabe, and, for some reason, Lucy. All the same, he was grateful. After he poured David his second glass of wine, he raised his own glass at the head of the table and cleared his throat.

"There is something quite powerful to say of friendship, I think, and in my memory it is best surmised by--"

"Father," interrupted Tory, "I am going to be absolutely vexxed if you quote another Pablo Neruda poem."

Marty smiled wryly and shook his head. "John Donohue once wrote: May you be blessed with good friends. May you learn to be a good friend to yourself. May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth .feeling and forgiveness. May this change you; may it transfigure that which is negative, distant or cold in you." He paused, nodding. "We all know what this day marks for our families, and while there may still remain pain, I believe that in all of us there is a joy that there have been steps taken towards healing." He looked down at Lyle, who had an expression akin to the texture of a tombstone--captivated and unfeeling, maybe even unsure of what to feel.

"Tonight was my doing because I wanted to have this single moment. So that I could raise a glass of wine to my son, Henry, and so that I could say May love transfigure all that which is negative, distant, or cold in you." He put a hand on Lyle's shoulder and smiled for the both of them. Then he nodded to Gabe. "We are all searching, in this life, for the person who breaks us most gently." He glanced at David when Gabe shook his head ever-so-slightly. But Marty recovered. "To friendship."

As he sat down, Tory stared at him blankly, fork already full of food. "Pablo Neruda would have been less pretentious." And she stuffed her face.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


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Thu Jan 01, 2015 1:36 am
KingLucifer says...



Tory Collins - Lose Yourself

Sweat coated me as I lay on the ground breathing heavy from my dance routine. Survival by Eminem was playing in the background the beat could be felt though my exhausted body. I breath deeply and exhale then again only this time I bring my knees close to my face and in a wave like motion I swing my legs forward and propel myself onto my feet. I walk over to the radio and turn it off and the gym goes dead silent and I sit on the ground pulling on my white t-shirt to help cool me off when a tall, black man with a beard walked out of his office.

"Tory, it's time to leave the school is closing down for the night," he said in a raised voice.

I nod and reach for my book bag sitting off to the side turning off my Ipod and two speakers. I put my speakers in my book bag and take out my ear buds plugging them into my Ipod I slip them into my ears, I walk out the gym's backdoor slinging my book bag over my shoulder as I do. The walk home only took ten minutes with few people around, as I walked in through the front door of my family home the aroma was clear Father had already begone preparing dinner. It was smelled appetizing.

"I'm home!" I said in a sing-song voice.

Father poked his head around the corner, "hey sweetheart, how was school?" he said.

"Exhausting, and overjoyed that the weekend has finally arrived," I said.

He smiled, "why don't you head up stairs and take a quick shower then come back down dinner is almost ready," he said.

"Yes Father," I said.

He smiled as I walked to the stairs quickly climbing the stairs to the second floor of the house. I push the door to me and Myra's room flinging my book bag off and onto my bed then taking my Ipod and ear buds off and putting them on the bed I walk out of the room and to the bathroom. After a quick hot shower and scrubbing, I went back to our shared room and threw on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt before heading down stairs only to catch Myra just coming back. We all sat down at the table Father was the one to raise his glass and cleared his throat.

"There is something quite powerful to say of friendship, I think, and in my memory it is best surmised by--"

"Father," I interrupted, "I am going to be absolutely vexxed if you quote another Pablo Neruda poem."

Father just smiled wryly and shook his head. "John Donohue once wrote: May you be blessed with good friends. May you learn to be a good friend to yourself. May you be able to journey to that place in your soul where there is great love, warmth .feeling and forgiveness. May this change you; may it transfigure that which is negative, distant or cold in you." He paused, nodding. "We all know what this day marks for our families, and while there may still remain pain, I believe that in all of us there is a joy that there have been steps taken towards healing." He looked down at Lyle, who had an expression akin to the texture of a tombstone--captivated and unfeeling, maybe even unsure of what to feel.

"Tonight was my doing because I wanted to have this single moment. So that I could raise a glass of wine to my son, Henry, and so that I could say May love transfigure all that which is negative, distant, or cold in you." He put a hand on Dad's shoulder and smiled for the both of them. Then he nodded to Gabe. "We are all searching, in this life, for the person who breaks us most gently." He glanced at David when Gabe shook his head ever-so-slightly. But Father recovered. "To friendship."

As he sat down, I stared at him, fork already full of food. "Pablo Neruda would have been less pretentious." And I said putting the food into my mouth.

The dinner table was relatively quiet from then on I knew the silence was there for a person not in attendance. Jason, three years since I had last seen him, three years since the murder of my older sister. I looked around the table everyone to busy eating the food Father had prepared, everyone was withdrawn into there own thoughts maybe not about Jason but it's what it felt like. What was there to say about Jason? forgive him for murdering Tricia? No, the only words that came to my mind were simple.

Stay away from my family
An angel, a knight, a man who will bring light to where there is only darkness, I am the Morning Star, the Bringer of Light, hail to me as I am King Lucifer!

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Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.
— Albert Einstein