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animebaby00 · 4 years ago

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I Don't Deserve It: Chapter 3 (FINAL)

When Shoto gets a nasty stomach bug, Izuku stops at nothing to take care of him.

But Shoto can't help but wonder why ?

(Link to Chapter 1): ⬇️

(Link to Chapter 2): ⬇️

The few times Shoto had forgotten to brush his teeth before bed had left him with an absolutely disgusting taste in his mouth the next morning.

However, that taste was NOTHING in comparison to the absolutely sickening, bitter, revolting, acidic flavor that coated his tongue once he woke up.

He pursed his lips sourly, positive that even the flavor of actual vomit coming up wasn't as bad as this. It was almost at the point of making him feel nauseous all over again, but with nothing in his stomach, it was just a mild queasiness.

He harshly blinked his eyes, taking note of the yellowish gleam in the room. It still must have been day time,but later afternoon due to the position of the shadows casted along the wall.

How long had he been asleep?

He sat up slightly, decently warm due to the blankets covering his form, but he wasn't overly hot, nor suffering from chills. He actually felt...better. Well, better than this morning at least.

But he still ached to rid his mouth of the bitter after tastes from earlier.

Shoto heaved himself up more, relieved that his body didn't act against him like it did several times before, and he was actually able to sit up without much protest. However, right when he did, the click of a door sounded in his ear and he caught sight of Midoriya reentering his room, a large, brown tray balanced on his arm.

This whole entire situation was turning into one of deja vu.

Midoriya made it about halfway into his room before he noticed Shoto's wakened presence, his eyes immediately perking up with a gleam of happiness once he did.

"Ah, Todoroki. You're awake." He said, a soft smile gracing his lips.

Shoto nodded, "Y-yeah." He looked back at the curtained window, " How uh...how long was I out?"

"About 4 hours. I was going to wake you up when I came back in here but I guess I won't need to," sock covered feet padded over to the bed and he leaned down to set the tray on the bed's edge, keeping his gaze upward as he did so, "How are you feeling ?"

Shoto's eyes widened a bit.

Such a simple question to answer, but to him, it felt highly difficult.

He knew it was just a simple inquiry about his wellbeing...but it was rare that he had ever been asked "how he was feeling".

He could say that he felt 100% better, say that he could leave Midoriya be and apologize for the unnecessary trouble. However, as proven from earlier, Midoriya was highly analytical (about the most odd things he may add) so he knew that if he tried to lie, the boy would no doubt be able to deduct it. It wasn't a complete lie though. He did feel better but-

"Not...too bad" he answered, noticing that even his voice sounded better, and he was deeply relieved by that "Not as bad as before."

Midoriya grinned "I'm happy to hear that !"

Shoto was a bit puzzled by the boy's eagerness, but that feeling completely diminished once he noticed Midoriya moving closer to him. His hand was slowly raising up, and in no time, it found a place against the skin of his forehead.

He froze in his place

"Well, you definitely look better." Midoriya concluded, "And your fever came down. I think you just caught that 24 hour stomach bug that's been going around."

Shoto blinked, "Stomach bug ?"

The freckled boy nodded, "Mmhm. I guess we've been so busy with our hero work and school that we didn't really notice it. But it doesn't last long." He pulled his hand away, "You should feel better by tomorrow, but make sure you take it easy."

Shoto watched as Midoriya reached over to grab a water bottle from the tray at the end of the bed, "Here, you should probably drink something after getting so sick. Don't need you getting dehydrated, but make sure you drink it slow. Are you still feeling nauseous at all ? Or dizzy? I brought some medicine if you are."

Shoto put a hand to his stomach, feeling slightly uneasy in answering.

He stayed silent, and a frown immediately crossed over onto Midoriya's face.

"Todoroki ? Are you okay ?" He asked frantically, tossing the water bottle to the side,"Are you feeling sick again ? Do you need the-"

"Why are you doing this?"

The question seemed to linger in the air. It was quiet for several seconds as Midoriya's face fell completely blank.

He slowly sat back down.

"What do you mean?"

Shoto looked down at his lap, "You know," he mumbled, gesturing to himself, the bed, and the tray at his feet, "All of this. Bringing me to your room, cleaning up the mess I made,the cold rag, bringing me water and medicine…"

"Helping me." He thought, but didn't say. Damn it, he really was pathetic. Just picturing what his father would say to him right now sent a flood of pitiful thoughts through his brain.

He was no better than a starving mutt scrapping up food from a trash can outside of a restaurant. A rotting, shriveled up tree in the cold depths of winter.

A piece of work. A nuisance. A waste of time.

A pathetic excuse of a human being, let alone a hero.

"Well that's obvious," Midoriya's chipper voice sounded, no ounce of remorse in sight, "Because you're my friend."

Shoto inwardly grimaced.

Friend.

The oh so Midoriya-like response that he knew deep down was coming.

But even so…it just wasn't right.

He slowly shook his head, fingers rising up to rub at his sore temples "God I can't believe this…"

"Huh?"

A sigh left his lips and he directed his bi-colored gaze to rest on Midoriya's deep, confused, green irises, his next words heavy on his tongue.

"I'm...I'm sorry Midoriya."

The freckled boy blinked, eyebrows furrowing at his sick friend, noticing how his presence seemed to suddenly freeze over them in a bitter chill.

What?

"Sorry?" he asked, his tone light and wavering in disbelief "Why are you sorry?"

Shoto pressed his lips into a thin line, his head tilting downwards, bangs covering his eyes. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, seemingly in an attempt to avoid Midoriya's perplexed stare…and the topic of explanation.

He looked so...dismal. Or maybe, upset? Disappointed? Honestly, Midoriya wasn't sure.

He actually wasn't sure about a lot of things in concern of Shoto today.

Everyone gets sick. That's inevitable. But Shoto seemed so completely and utterly...bludgeoned by it, that it had made Midoriya very concerned.

Shoto had to have not felt 100% that morning, considering how badly he had thrown up. He had hidden it well even though Midoriya could have sworn that his complexion did look a little green. But then, things continued to take their turns.

He hadn't mentioned feeling sick at all during their time in the bathroom, kept brushing off that he was fine. He had tried to avoid Midoriya's help and care, tried getting up and leaving when he very well wasn't capable of doing so.

And now, here he was, looking down at the bed, fiddling with his fingers like some child who had just stolen some cookies out of a cookie jar, apologizing for something that no other person ever would.

But why?

Why did he seem so regretful, so beaten down, so depressed?

Midoriya began to gain a bit of realization

He had seen that face before, at least ones similar to it. At their battle during the sports festival, in the hospital after beating Stain, those tiny increments he would encounter his father or talk about his mother.

Others wouldn't be able to see it, but Midoriya could. That look…

...was a look of guilt.

It was then that he understood. Maybe not Shoto's exact position, as no one could possibly understand what he'd been through completely. Midoriya knew he probably never would, but he was going to try his hardest to make Shoto understand HIS position, even if it was just a little.

"Hey, Todoroki." He tried, scooting closer to the male's side whilst looking down at the bed as well, , "You know...I actually used to not like asking for help either."

Midoriya ghosted his gaze upward for just a moment , and caught a twinge of movement from Shoto out of the corner of his eye. At least he got a reaction and confirmation that he was listening.

He picked at the blanket below him with his fingers, "I'm sure you already know this," he said softly, "But it was pretty much just me and my mom growing up. With my dad not in the picture, she was the one who always took care of me. She worked quite a few jobs a week at cafes and stores to keep up with expenses while also looking out for my well being at the same time. "

The soft smile on his lips faded some as he continued.

"I would usually stay at Kacchan's house after school when she couldn't pick me up, sometimes I would even spend the night or fall asleep on the sofa because she would get back so late. And when that wasn't an option, I would go to the office and do homework until she was able to come get me, but I never truly realized just how hard she pushed herself until I got older."

Izuku stood up and walked over his dresser, hand reaching out to pick up a framed photo of him and his mother, finger smoothing over the glassened face.

"She always had weekends off with me which made me happy. We would watch movies, play hero, go to All Might's autograph signings, and we'd always have so much fun...but I would begin to notice how she would doze off halfway through a movie, how sometimes she wouldn't lift me up as high, or how sometimes she would walk slower than normal. I never noticed...how tired she was. How worn out working so many different shifts made her, and on top of it she had to take care of me. It made me feel...guilty."

He set the photo down and turned back around, now finding Shoto's bi-colored gaze completely on him, focused and set, like he was mentally relating to what Midoriya was saying.

"Once middle school started, I decided to try doing more things for myself. Cooking, cleaning, shopping, doing my homework by myself, and other things. At first, it was easy, but then I found my time was slipping away because of my studies and my hero research. Sometimes I would go a day without eating, other times I wouldn't have time to study for a test and my scores weren't the best. I had to keep reminding myself that sometimes my mom had it way worse than me, and so I kept doing what I was doing. But I always found it strange how she would ask me if I was okay or if I needed help when she was the one working 3 jobs while also taking care of a kid."

Shoto parted his lips to speak, his inquisitive words just barely above a whisper.

"W-what did you do?"

Midoriya sighed before his lips curled up into a sympathetic, knowing smile "Denied it. Told her I was fine and that nothing was wrong."

Shoto looked down at the bed, "Oh…"

"But of course, schemes, whether good or bad, have to come to an end somehow. And that happened to me in one of the worst ways possible."

"How?"

Midoriya chuckled sheepishly,"I brought home my first test...with an F."

Now that was something. Midoriya had the 5th highest grade level in their class so he was no doubt a good student. To say Shoto was shocked was an understatement.

"Naturally, this caught my Mom's attention, and soon as I got home she set me down to talk. I knew then and there that I had to tell her what was going on and that I would only make it worse if I tried to hide anything so I told her everything from start to finish. I told her I felt bad for her and that I always worried that she was working too hard. I explained absolutely everything, but in the end, instead of her being mad, she did something that I'd always remember for the rest of my life. She took my hand and said 'Izuku, I want you to understand that no matter what, you can always come to me if you need something. No matter how tired I am, no matter what time it is, I'll always be here. It's my job to look after you. We can't do everything by ourselves, we can't be who we want to be without others. Help is a life necessity and everyone needs it sooner or later, even if they don't think they need it or deserve it. Asking for it and accepting it isn't a weakness…'"

Midoriya trailed off for a moment to walk back over to his bed to sit, and gently placed a hand over Shoto's folded ones, tone warm and reassuring.

"In fact...it's one of the greatest strengths a person can have.'"

Something clicked then. Midoriya's words...he wasn't sure why but they ignited something. A feeling that he couldn't pinpoint.

It took so much in the past for him to be convinced that help or assistance was a sign of weakness. All of the stern lectures, orders and put downs that he could be better. The never ending struggles that he conquered by himself and only by himself because that's what he was taught to do.

It was all changed by a simple story from a person he hadn't even known for a year.

"And you know," Midoriya added, "If a hero is sick, then they can't perform at their best for other people, so the best thing for you, whether you like it or not, is rest."

"Yeah." he sighed, "Your right. I...can actually see that now. I guess my old ways got to me. I'm just not used to this," he shifted in place, "I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Midoriya said with a smile, "I'm your friend. I'm happy to help."

He grabbed the water bottle for the second time, "Here, I imagine the taste you have in your mouth right now isn't too pleasant."

Shoto breathed a light chuckle and put the rim of the bottle up to his lips, "You have no idea." He took a few sips, relishing in how nice the coolness of the water felt in his parched mouth and dry throat.

"I've been sick plenty of times before so I have an idea. Now," Midoriya stood, "Do you maybe want to try eating something? Some crackers or some toast maybe ? You should probably try and keep your strength up."

"Yeah...crackers are okay. I'm not as nauseous as I was earlier so I think I can stomach it."

"Great ! I'll be right back then. Call if you need anything else, okay?"

"...Sure."

Midoriya turned to head out of the bedroom, hand reaching out to grab the handle of the door.

"Midoriya ?"

He paused his movements and turned his head.

"Yes, Todoroki?"

And then he saw it. That oh so, rare, genuine little smile that seemed to brighten up the whole room.

"Thank you."

Two simple words, but to Midoriya, they meant a million.

#mha #my hero academia #shoto torodoki #izuku midoriya #sick shoto todoroki #caring izuku midoriya #talking #support #friendship #understanding

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jbuffyangel · 7 years ago

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HVFF Nashville Wrap Up

It’s midnight. This is the first second I’ve had to sit down and write about Nashville. I was knee deep in SDCC planning with my Just About Write ladies today. It’s gonna be lit folks! We can’t wait to cover it for you.

So... I decided to go to HVFF Nashville for one reason and one reason only. M*lissa B*noist was attending and my daughter could meet Supergirl. The obsession runs deep my friends. When M*lissa canceled Lauren was absolutely devastated and I was in a bit of a panic. Primarily because I didn’t know what else she would enjoy at HVFF. She’s not allowed to watch Arrow. She’s only seen a few clips, but Lauren loves Felicity Smoak. Hand to God this is how she described the show to a friend.

Friend: What’s Arrow?

(The friend overhead my husband and I discussing my blog)

Lauren: It’s about Felicity Smoak. She is super smart and loves computers like I do. She fights crime.

Friend: Okaaaay. But... who is Arrow?

Lauren: (completely blasé) Oh. He’s just Felicity’s boyfriend.

I mean.... she’s not entirely wrong. She also possibly summed up 95% of the fandom’s view of the show, so I give her points for that. But... Emily Bett Rickards wasn’t going to be there. So, I was unsure of her level of excitement over Stephen.

Turns out she was pretty excited to meet him.

Well, she was excited to dress up as Felicity, spend time with Mommy, shop and swim at the hotel pool, but Stephen was absolutely on the list. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how much of the convention she would enjoy. Turns out she LOVED all of it.

She shrieked when she saw Chewy and BB8. The force is strong with this child.

I fully support her superhero choices.

Honestly, it was just fun to share my little Arrow world with her. I already blogged about her autograph with Stephen, but here are a few more details. She was nervous and wanted very much to ask him a question, but didn’t know what to ask. So I gave her the question, “Will we have to wait all season for Olicity to get married?” Thanks @callistawolf for the suggestion. Man didn’t even blink. Folded immediately with, “No I don’t think so.” WEDDING CONFIRMED. THANK YOU MY ANGEL. Stephen is powerless against little Felicity Smoaks.

After the autograph, apparently Lauren felt like she had a rapport with Stephen. (Wink wink) Lauren floored me when she said she wanted to ask Stephen a question at the panel. Thought it all up by herself. Marched on up to the mic. I promise you she does not get this confidence from me. This is all her father.

Round three was the photos. Lauren said she had another question for Stephen. I explained that every time she had a question for Stephen, Mommy had to fork over a bunch of cash, so she was all done. Undeterred Lauren remembered she still had a photo with him and decided she could ask him there. She wanted to have a chat with Steve I think. Maybe over milk and cookies. I very quickly downplayed the interaction and explained he has a lot of people to get through and the photo goes very quickly. There won’t be any time for questions.

She waited very patiently for her photo and, yes the line was moving fast. I could tell she was getting nervous again. When it was her turn, Stephen smiled at her and I said, “There he is. Go ahead.” I knew Lauren’s plan was to just stand next to him, but Stephen smiled at her again and said, “Yeah... no. Let’s try...” and he scooped her up. Lauren was airborne and completely shocked. My girl is tall but very thin for a 10 year old, so the man basically palmed her like a basketball. LOL To say she was thrilled would be an understatement.

He set her down and I whispered thank you as she scurried back to me. And Stephen gave me a very sweet wink.

This was our convo after...

Lauren: HE PICKED ME UP MOMMY! I was NOT expecting that.

Me: I know. I saw. Pretty awesome!

Lauren: I was going to ask him on a scale of 1 to 100 how strong is he?

Me: I think he answered your question.

Lauren nodded speechless.

Me: I’d say as strong as Daddy. 99?

Lauren: (giddy) YES!

My daughter can be very introspective at times and the conversation we had on the airplane on the ride home struck a chord with me.

Lauren: Do you think Stephen gets tired of doing conventions?

Me: Well... I think he’s making a lot of money and people tell him he’s amazing all day. As jobs go, I don’t think it’s a terribly tough one, but he does have to travel a lot and that can be hard.

Lauren: (very quietly) He probably doesn’t get to see his little girl very much.

(Stephen told a sweet story about Mavi at the panel. I was truly surprised Lauren brought her up.)

Me: That’s true. He lives in a different city when he films the show. Then he travels to conventions. Sometimes she comes with, but you are right. Stephen spends a lot of time away. Although I’m sure he sees Mavi every chance he gets.

Lauren: How old is his daughter?

Me: She’s little. I think she’s in preschool.

Lauren was quiet again and I could tell what she was thinking.

Me: It’s nice that your Daddy is home every night isn’t it?

Lauren: Yeah.

Me: Fame has its perks, but there are negatives. Daddy isn’t famous, but I think you got the better end of the deal, don’t you?

Lauren: Yes.

Bonus points to my husband for remembering that Ming Na voiced Mulan as we scanned the guest list after Melissa canceled. Well played Dad.

Of course, Ming Na is gorgeous and wonderful with kids. Lauren named off most of the characters in the movie and wanted to know if Ming Na had stuffed animals of them. (Stuffed animals rank high with her still). Answer: Yes, she does in her office. Lauren was quite pleased Ming Na was Disney Princess-ing properly. She had bracelets and candy for the kids too, so her parenting game was strong too.

Of course, meeting fandom friends is always a highlight of conventions. It’s always so funny when we introduce ourselves. Obviously, we start with our real names, but it’s only when we say our screen names that the light bulbs go off.

I was able to meet @scu11y22, @jedichick04, @laurabelle2930, @ireland1733, @redpensandgreenarrows, @emmilynestill, @quant-um-fizzx, its_mjayy and Brittany_Ellis . (Sorry if I forgot anyone!!!) Y’all were as nice as can be. So sweet to both me and my daughter. Thanks for chatting Arrow with me, listening to me ramble (Yes, I do the same thing in person as I do in the reviews. I am deeply obsessed) and sharing your convention and real life stories with me!!! So happy to met you all.

We spent the weekend with my amazing friend @hotcookinmama. She is my life saving editor and beta for all my fics and Nashville tour guide extraordinaire. Angela picked us up from the airport, drove us around town and gave us a fantastic tour of Nashville. She found great restaurants for us to eat at. Absolute gem of a host. She is also one of the sweetest and most genuine people I’ve ever met. Our girls were fast friends and had a wonderful time playing together. #Perfectweekend

Two of my favorite convention moments were with Angela and both involved David Ramsey. I had a VIP ticket so I told Angela to tag along with me while I got my autograph with David. Typically they don’t mind how many people you have with as long as they don’t try to get an autograph at that time. I figured this would give Angela two visits with David (she would get her auto in the general admin line later). David and I chatted. He gave me that great spoiler and off we went. I started chatting about the spoiler as we walked away, but as I turned to look at her I realized she was crying. 100% FEELS OVERLOAD from meeting David Ramsey because he’s freaking David Ramsey and always wonderful. It was her first convention and I was just so happy to be part of that purely joyful moment with her. It’s so rare when we are gloriously happy as human beings and she absolutely was.

The second, of course, were the AMAZING SPOILERS David gave Angela. She essentially guessed the first six episodes of S6 because she’s a clairvoyant, kick ass fic writer. I was standing in Stephen’s empty booth, just on the other side of David’s. I was out of earshot, but enjoying watching Angela and her family interact with him. When Angela came over to me she was freaking out by what he told her. Then I was freaking out. It was AWESOME.

Regarding M*lissa’s cancellation - yes I was angry. These tickets are expensive, plus airfare, and it’s always difficult to disappoint your child. There seems to be some controversy over whether or not she was really working. Obviously, if she was working that’s understandable even though it’s frustrating.

If she wasn’t really working well... that sucks. A LOT.

That said, Stephen’s kindness went a long way to ease my daughter’s broken Supergirl heart and I appreciated it. I should probably let her watch Arrow now. ;) What’s most important though is the time we spent together and the memories we made on our mother/daughter trip.

#personal #arrow fandom #olicity fandom #hvff nashville #stephen amell #arrow cast appearances #arrow spoilers #arrow season 6 #olicity spoilers

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linssikeittomies · 7 years ago

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Apocalypse. In 50 Years. Chapter 1: Virgin Allison

I’m lucky. Always have been. Me, my parents, their parents, and their parents as far back as we can remember have always been lucky: none of them have been seriously ill, gotten into a serious accident, or suffered major financial setbacks. We don’t have any hereditary diseases. No one has died before their 80th birthday. There hasn’t been a single divorce.

I had a good upbringing, a stable family situation and a healthy diet. My parents bought me an apartment, I got in to college on my first try, I have hobbies I love and time for them, summer is just around the corner and we’re planning a vacation to Hawaii, everything is great and I should have nothing to worry about.

But every second of the day I feel this anxious tension in my chest.

I always feel like I’m doing something wrong, or I’m supposed to be doing something else. Something is not correct, and I don’t know how to correct it. Something’s expected of me, but I don’t know what. I’ve tried going to church and mosque more, I’ve tried doing more sports, I’ve tried volunteer work, arts, science, philosophy, psychology, travelling, soul searching, nothing works. That nagging feeling just won’t go away! Sometimes it’s right there on the surface, sometimes it sinks to the background, but it’s there every second of the day and my sanity can’t take another month of this feeling! I might be the first person in my family line to have a mental breakdown.

There’s some kind of sound… What is that, I don’t like it, I don’t like beeping when it’s so warm. Just let me find that last bunny. It got scared of the sound. Aww, I found it, right on my desk, the alarm…

Oh, the sound was my alarm clock. Damn brilliant, time to wake up already. Whose bright idea was it to force people up before they were ready? The professors can’t like being woken at the ass crack of dawn either. Just stop having morning lectures, people! Nobody wants them! I’m the nicest girl this country has ever seen and I’m getting an impulse to murder a guy. I’ve been getting up at 5:45 the whole week, maybe I should’ve gone the other route and just not slept at all. Would’ve made it easier to drag myself out of my soft, warm, loving bed… I’ve been trying to clean up my language, but I just have to curse some right now. Gives me enough anger to push myself up. Makes me feel bad about myself, too.

The classic white and blue sailor fuku has seen a lot of use this past month, but since it still feels marginally less wrong than all my other clothes, it’ll see a little more. I brush my hair while I wait for the frying pan to heat up enough fry my omelet, then pick at it and end up only eating half. Ughhh, why did I stay up reading that fanfic last night, again? I’ve read it like ten times already, I already know damn well what’s gonna happen! I get so queasy when I’m tired… I should probably pack the rest of this omelet up and take it to school ‘cause I’ll just get hungry an hour later.

I manage to cover the bags under my eyes with make-up, and since for once I was smart and packed my bag ready last night, I just grab it and get out the door. I’ve barely closed it when my next door neighbor Ricky comes out his. He’s really nice and kinda cute, but his obvious crush on me makes our relationship a little awkward. Not that I don’t reciprocate – he’s easy on the eyes, super cute with all those freckles and dimples and supposedly carefree hair combined with a caring and shy personality. So yeah, I once considered dating him, but the overwhelming sense of WRONG! WRONG! had unfortunately made that impossible. It always flares up particularly bad when something romance-related comes to my mind, maybe I’m just extremely aromantic without realizing it? It seems being friends with him is a-ok, however. And it’s got its perks.

“Oh, morning, Ally. Did you like the cookies I gave you yesterday?” he asks, as if there was ever any doubt. “I think the cinnamon made them a little too Christmassy.”

“Not at all, they were great! I don’t get how you make them soft in the center, whenever I try they just dry up.”

“Might be too much flour”, he theorizes as we go down the stairs. He moves his messenger bag from his free side to between the two us – I’ve noticed he does that a lot, I think it’s some kind of unconscious attempt at putting up a barrier because he feels so self-conscious around me. “Or maybe you keep the oven on for too long. I always turn it off when they’re close to ready.”

I almost ask for a baking lesson, but again the WRONG flares up so I give up on the idea.

“You might be on to something, I’ll try that next time.”

He’s bad with words, so he tries to find something to say but can’t. He scratches his arm absently and opens his mouth only to close it immediately. Our conversations are rarely smooth, and these kinds of pauses are the norm. I don’t mind them that much – no point in saying words solely for the sake of making noise, after all. But Ricky seems to find them incredibly uncomfortable and a sign of failure, so often I just say something completely meaningless to help him out, give him some ideas.

“How’s school been lately?”

Ricky’s a journalism major, and has a huge collection of magazines and newspapers at his place. I wonder why he didn’t go into confectionary since he’s so good at it already. Maybe he prefers to keep it a hobby? Not even with a gun to my head would I animate for a living, even though I spend like 90 percent of my free time staring at anime.

“Nothing special”, he mumbles. “A lot of work… It, uhh, might get a little worse now that my computer broke…”

“Aww crap, I feel for you!”

“Thanks… I… spilled milk on it last night”, he admits embarrassed. He likes drinking milk with cookies, he must’ve been eating those cinnamon cookies while working on something. “It’s probably busted even if I can get it dry.”

“I can lend you my tablet if it’s any help.”

“Thanks, but… all my files were on the hard drive.”

Oh jeez, he didn’t even save the most important ones to a cloud? This guy’s just hopeless. I don’t get how he’s managed to stay alive living on his own for two years. A cute face doesn’t help much with keeping track of bills and switching fuses.

We part ways on the street and I dig out my headphones. My bus route is noisy as hell, thanks to all the “edgy” teens going to high school. For some incomprehensible reason so many of them think it’s entirely necessary to loudly laugh at the worst non-jokes and gossip about this bitch and that bitch and those assholes, while also apparently hating each other judging by the amount insults they throw at each other, but still they hang out together so I guess they really are friends…? I just don’t get them. I was never like that in high school, I actually liked my friends.

Speaking of which, I get a new message from ~BFF~.

Good morning! Saida says, and sends a selfie. Seems she’s been clothes shopping, as I’ve never seen that tunic before. The hijab is old, but it’s draped pretty elaborately. It looks really good on her, red’s really her color, and the tunic’s greenish gray complements it surprisingly well.

Woah nice! Looks great on u (^o^)b

Thanks^^ Took ten tries to drape it good, I’m thinking wearing it like this for the premiere. Only a week from now! SO excited! >o<

Grrrrreat peeps gonna luv it \(^-<)

Keep both thumbs up for me^^

Saida’s an aspiring playwright and works on a lot of amateur productions. This will the first play she wrote completely on her own. I’ve been to a couple of their rehearsals, so I know the story is about a woman whose father is murdered and she vows to catch the perp – but in the process learns that her father was actually a terrible person and was killed in revenge. I didn’t want too many spoilers so I haven’t read the script.

Can we go togthr im so proud of u (/>3>)/

Of course! We’re going for a dinner afterwards so you can come with us too

Aww, I wanted u all to myself orz

If only you were a guy you couldXD Too bad :p

Deciding to tease her about this raises the wrong feeling back to the surface, but the opportunity is just too delicious.

Ill keep that in mind (^3^)b

Oh jeez, in hindsight that was a bad joke (/-_-\)

U get im gonna teez u about this all ur life k:DDDD

In hindsight that was a REALLY bad joke -_- Have fun AT SCHOOL you little devil!>:D

Aww orz

She barely has classes this week, not that it means she actually has less work – just that she’s supposed to working on assignments at home. Unlike me, she’s really diligent and actually does her homework over a few days instead of the previous night.

The professor is late, as usual. Students don’t have keys for the classrooms, so we have to wait outside. It can get pretty cramped, especially at places like this: at the end of a narrow hallway, with the smelliest toilet in the building at the other end. Everyone tries their hardest to squeeze out of the way of the stench. At least in the summer it gets a little better – in the winter the pipes get frozen, and when the water doesn’t flow, the smell really starts melting off faces.

I fail at stifling a yawn, and a classmate gives me a sympathetic look. It’s so hard to stay awake when I’m not on the move, any small break just reminds my brain of how tired I am, and then it wants to go back to sleep. It even forgets about the horrible stink floating in the hallway, if only for a moment. When my head drops and I snap back to attention, it suddenly fills my nose again. I’ve repeated the process about five times already.

In fact, I’m right in the process of drifting back to sleep again when I notice her. The pale, young woman dressed all in black, sporting abyssal black hair and glowing, ember-like eyes. She stares at me intently, like a hawk hunting a rabbit, and emanates a malicious aura. Everything about her is… dark, somehow. Like she’s hard to make out, and even the bright lamps seem dimmer around her. She looks human, but in an… elongated way. Her face, her body, and especially her fingers, look a little too long and a little too spindly. She looks like a daddy long legs. I can’t shake the mental image of her creeping up the wall and skittering away in to some slight crack. I’m not used to being nervous – I consider myself a particularly brave person, but this lady is giving me the creeps! I find myself crossing my arms at my chest to get at least some kind of barrier between us, despite her standing several meters away. It’s not far enough. If possible, I would rather put several countries between us – but as it stands, all I have is half a meter of hallway.

Her eyes stare at me unblinkingly as I squeeze closer to the door, their dim glimmer drowning out all other light. I can’t look away – her gaze holds me prisoner, and laughs at my fear.

Then a light weight settles on my shoulder, and her thin lips curve into a sharp, sadistic facsimile of a smile and she whispers

FOUND YOU

before turning around and walking out. All feelings of dread melt away with her gone, and I turn to look at whoever defended me.

It’s a hand. A translucent, poorly defined, watery hand that peters out of existence at the wrist. Seeing it floods me with tranquility. It twinkles like moonwake and grips my shoulder reassuringly before fading away.

…

Wow, I must be really tired! Guess those five hour nights finally caught up with me! As interesting as this awake-sleeping was, I’d rather not repeat it anytime soon. Or, like, ever. I have got to catch up on sleepy times this weekend.

By afternoon I’ve almost forgotten about the creepy lady and disembodied hand. It’s Friday, I’m too excited about finally having the time to finish my Ayato cosplay to think about sleep deprivation hallucination thingies. If I hurry, I should be able to finish the coat, maybe work on the pants some more. I need to get some more glue and find the right kind of buttons, the crafts store is still open so I’ll stop by there before going to my parents’ –

“Hey, Ally!”

A classmate drags me out of my thoughts.

“Ellie decided to throw an impromptu birthday party to herself tomorrow at her place, wanna come with us?” Lisa continues. Bryan is at her side, while Lotte and Yao come up on my right.

“She’s invited a lot of her other friends, too! Place is gonna be crawling with cute chicks!” Brian informs me as he pumps his fists. He then seems to remember he’s talking to a girl. “…Or guys, if that’s your thing”, he adds meekly.

Lisa firmly shakes her head.

“Her place can’t fit more than twenty people, and our class is gonna be at least thirteen of those people.”

“Yeah, the afterparty is what’s filled with hotties!” Lotte pipes in with stars in her eyes. Our class doesn’t actually share a lot of courses, but we try to stay in contact with each other. We have a whatsapp group, and sometimes we plan parties or get-togethers. I try to take part every now and then, but so often everyone just wants to go drinking I don’t see the point in going.

“Don’t worry, Ellie said her place is an alcohol-free zone for tonight because she doesn’t want a repeat of last year!” Lisa assures me. “It’s just gonna be music and games until we go clubbing.”

Ellie is pretty nice, and the only person I kind of consider to be a friend other than Saida. I might make friends easily, but keeping them is a genuine problem. If we hadn’t been neighbors all our lives, I don’t think I would still be friends with even Saida, either. So I’d like to at least try and hold on to Ellie while we’re still in the same school.

“Alright, I’ll be there!”

“WOOOO!!!” Lotte screams and everyone else flinches.

“Jesus Christ Lotte, control yourself!” Yao snaps at her, but of course she doesn’t give a damn. Instead, she starts dancing right there in the hallway and singing some pop song off-key. I know for a fact she’s not drunk because she acts like that even in class, but it’s still almost impossible to believe. Yao grumbles quietly and facepalms in shame before walking off without another word.

“See you tomorrow!” are Lisa’s parting words, and she smiles brightly as she waves bye. Bryan punches her lightly on the shoulder and she silently pumps her fist. They’re so happy that most of the class will be there. We used to this kind of stuff a lot more often in our first year, but then summer break came and everyone drifted apart.

“Wear something nice... but not too nice”, Lotte advises, winking conspicuously. “That’d be a bit too scary.”

“Scary how?” I ask puzzled. She just blows me a kiss before WOOTing again and pseudo-dancing out the door. In a way I almost envy her utter indifference towards social norms, being her must be so freeing. I can’t imagine the tiniest worry ever enters her head. For sure she never feels anything she does is wrong.

I popped in the crafts store on the way to my parents’ – on Friday’s we always have dinner together. This week it was dad’s turn to cook, so I helped him make the asam laksa, after hiding the curry- he always tries to put in too much, and mom’s so white she can barely salt her food.

“Bismillah”, dad and I say.

“God is great, by his hand we are all fed. Amen”, mom and I say.

My parents are great at working around their faiths. They both let the other do their own thing while holding onto their own. They never tried to teach me one faith was wrong. I came to think of God and Allah as different aspects of the same entity, in a way, and had no problems growing up bi-religious. As a child God felt closer, but after graduating middle school I became more drawn to Allah, maybe partly because of Saida. That’s when we really started being good friends, despite being neighbors since birth and always being in the same class. I even wore a hijab for a while, like her, though only for, like, ten months maybe? It wouldn’t have been even that long had my parents not been kind of worried, and had I not been a rebellious little shit. I wanted to make them squirm a bit. Imagine that, an Ally who wasn’t a total goody two shoes.

“We’ve been thinking about getting a dog”, dad tells me. “I think a Maltese would be best, they’re small and playful. A dog should be social and playful, right? Real companions. I have some breeders scouted already.”

He’s super excited about this dog. One might even say suspiciously excited…

“You’re suffering from empty nest syndrome”, I quip and chuckle.

“Nonsense, I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“You never mentioned dogs before Ally moved out, honey”, mom reminds playfully.

“What? Sure I did. The house was just too small.”

Mom rubs her chin mock-thoughtfully.

“The man doth protest too much, methinks.”

“He really doth.”

Dad gets flustered and still tries to claim he’s doing no such thing. Everyone and their grandma knows he has a soft spot for anything cute and fluffy but he still likes to pretend he doesn’t. Oh, that pink teddy bear on that shelf? It was a gift for my wife, she loves things like that. I heard your cat had kittens, can I bring my daughter over to see them? What’s a few mice, they’ll be gone by winter, getting mouse traps is too much hassle.

We had to call an exterminator for the mice. In a few months they had taken over most of the kitchen.

“Well now neither will get to name the puppy.”

Aww, and I was so looking forward to that yappy little shedding machine. I would have named it Fluffy of the Incessant Noise.

“I’m thinking O’Malley. That could then be shortened to either Max or Madsie.”

“He hasn’t been this excited since your youngest cousin was born”, mom says while nudging dad with her elbow. Dad claims the dog would be mostly for mom, so she won’t get lonely while dad’s at work. Mom says Of course, honey, and lets it slide. She has a part-time job, she’s only home alone for nine hours a few days a week.

I leave when it starts getting dark outside. I live close to my parents, so I decide to walk home. It’s getting a little chilly outside, but that only means the air is fresh and getting under the warm covers will feel that much better. It’s quiet – oddly quiet, it’s only quarter past eight. Why are all the lights already off? I could get a few people being asleep already, but the whole neighborhood? It’s not a blackout, the streetlights are on. Weird.

I’m starting to get a little nervous. Logically thinking there’s nothing worrying around, but my gut keeps telling me something is wrong more insistently than usually. And it’s a dangerous wrong, not the this-is-not-expected-of-you-wrong.

I pick up my pace a bit, and that’s when the streetlamps start going out, too. Each one I pass under fizzles out after me. The feeling of wrong is replaced by GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!!! In a blind panic I start running, but then the lamps start breaking before I even reach them! Hot glass shards rain over me as I’m left in total darkness in a large city that never sleeps!

No, that not entirely correct… There is still one light on. A single streetlamp a dozen meters away illuminates a small patch of sidewalk. Something is standing under it. Some kind of dark creature, with long talons and glinting fangs. I can hear it chuckling darkly… and it charges at me!

On instinct I put up my dukes, only realizing after the fact that it’s probably the one choice even worse than simply running – I’ve never hit anyone in my life and would just break each of my fingers before getting mauled to death… Shit! Okay, okay – but at least this way, I can die on my own terms – bring it on, bitch!

But just as quickly as it attacked, it is defeated. A blindingly bright spear of light shoots down from the sky, piercing the creature’s head clean in the center and nailing it to the asphalt. The resulting shockwave drops me on my ass on the ground. The spear stays standing, unbearably bright to look at but barely illuminating the surroundings at all. And the creature lies there motionless, not bleeding, but it’s so obviously dead I almost want to go up to it and investigate a little. My wrong radar goes off, though, so I give up the idea.

And, well, I wouldn’t have gotten that far anyway, since now a watery, half-there hand fades into view around the hilt of the spear – the same hand from school. This doesn’t feel like a dream, and in a dream I sure wouldn’t wonder if this was all a dream, but I just have to consider the possibility. Because if this is reality, I’ll have to readjust my beliefs on ghosts and I really, really don’t want them to be real!

A faint sound of flutes drifts in as the hand lifts up the spear and offers it to someone invisible. The corpse of the demonic beast quietly crumbles to dust, and all the lights flicker back on. The invisible someone starts forming a body – at first as poorly defined as the watery hand, like a half-remembered memory, but soon solidifying into a slender, paper white arm, alabaster robe, platinum blonde curls… and massive, pure white feathery wings flaring out from this picture perfect woman’s back. A softly glowing halo hums into life above her head as a single, clear ring of a church bell tolls.

If – if this isn’t an angel, nothing is. There I am, on my ass on the pavement before an emissary of God, and I can’t even manage to not gawk at her like some fucking moron!

The angel takes the spear in her hand, the watery hand waves to me and disappears, and still I can’t manage to even close my fucking mouth!

“I take it you are unharmed?” the angel asks me, her voice pure and melodic and all that poetic crap, and all I say is “Praise be to God”, like some generic and zero-thought-process and out-of-habit phrase like that is going to do any good in this situation. THINK OF SOMETHING TO SAY, DAMN YOU BRAIN!

“Get off your ass already!” a new voice huffs and startles me enough to actually make me jump despite not even standing. On my left, there is a lesbian – honestly, that’s what best describes her! She’s wearing red flannel, for fuck’s sake! A super short lesbian, she’s almost a head shorter than even me… What the hell – heck is she doing here? Can’t she see the angel standing right there? Why isn’t she boggled out of her mind at the incredible sight?! It feels so right to be in awe of her – wait… It feels… right? Why… why isn’t anything wrong now? I… This is so confusing. Where did the wrong go?

The angel graciously offers her hand to this idiotic creature, and all I can do is stutter out a simple thank you. Partly it’s my confusion at the inexplicable disappearance of wrong, and partly because she is - and I’m not shitting or embellishing this in the slightest - the most beautiful woman I could have imagined even in my wildest dreams. It’s not just how she looks, it’s also how she feels – and yes, she does look stunning, but she also emanates this aura of peace, reverence and contentment. That aura, combined with her perfectly symmetrical, slim face, large eyes in multiple hues of blue and nearly translucent, evenly toned skin puts Aphrodite, Venus and Istar all to shame.

“Thank you”, I say automatically. The angel smiles and I swear my heart skips like ten beats. Not only is she indescribably beautiful, she’s also insanely tall – I don’t even reach her armpit. As I stare up at her like some love-struck idiot, her face subtly changes – her eyes go from double-lid to monolid, her nose flattens a bit, and her cheekbones travel upwards. She’s turned from completely Caucasian to part East Asian – like me. She skin still stays just as pale, though, it even faintly glows a white light.

“We need to go, asshats!” the lesbian snaps. I reluctantly turn to look at her instead of the wonder in front of me. Her hair is blonde as well, but instead of freely flowing long waves, it’s a straight, long bob and pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes are an even turquoise, and that’s one of the only two things worth mentioning about her looks – she’s impossibly plain. She’s so plain you can’t call her ugly, not even standing next to the angel. The other thing worth mention is that bitch face of epic proportions. How she can be anything but awestruck around the angel is beyond me, but that look makes it pretty clear she despises nothing on this planet as much as she does me.

I thought the angel would be incapable of negative emotions, but even she gives a slight glare at the lesbian, like she’s being inappropriate.

“Yes, it would be best to move on before more demons arrive.”

That thing was really a demon? Not just some monster? Why was it after me? And why am I important to warrant an honest to God angel to save me? Not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just weird that a nobody like me gets special treatment. My family’s not important, and I’m not even planning a religious career.

The angel and the lesbian start walking towards my place, and I don’t question how they know where I live. I just follow, legs weak, suddenly noticing how funny the short lesbian looks next to the giant angel. As I stifle the chuckle, I realize how rude I’m being, and to a celestial being at that!

“Ah! My name’s Ally binti Badraan! Nice to meet you!”

Both women turn to look at me, but keep walking.

“We knew that”, the angel replies smiling gently. “You may call me Rapture.”

We both look at the lesbian expectantly, and she blanks for a good five seconds. What, doesn’t she know her own name?

“…Meta. Got any smokes?”

Rapture looks like she wants to facepalm, but it wouldn’t fit her image.

“Uhh, sorry, no. I don’t smoke.”

“What are you even good for?” Meta huffs. Excuse me? What the hell kind of manners are those?! She was totally raised in a barn!

“I apologize for my subordinate”, Rapture grumbles. “It may be difficult to believe she is also an angel, but she is capable despite her personality.”

What?! The lesbian is also an angel? But – she’s nothing like Rapture! She seems like the furthest thing from angel excluding demons! Rapture, yeah, she could only be an angel, but you can’t tell me that Plain McBitchy belongs in the same genus!

“I’m here to fight demons, not to baby these bonebags”, Meta comments with a sneer. I decide not to bother with her, and address Rapture.

“So you’re powers, am I correct?”

Rapture smiles so bright I swear the whole street lights up. I hate being a broken record, but she is so beautiful! I might have to look away soon, wouldn’t want my eyes to overload.

“Oh, good to see you have read your Bible! It has been very long since I met a true believer!”

I don’t have the heart to tell her I haven’t even read the whole Bible… I skipped like 70 percent of the Old Testament. I read all the angel stuff on Wikipedia.

Come to think of it, does this prove Christianity to be the only true religion? What am I going to tell dad and Saida?

I’m just about to ask, when the angels – no, I just can’t consider the lesbian an actual angel – suddenly turn invisible. We’re right at the corner of my apartment building, and I hear someone walking towards us. I don’t want to panic, because for sure Rapture wouldn’t have left me to fend for myself if it was a demon, but can you blame me for imagining the worst when I was a second away from death mere minutes ago?

I couldn’t hide behind the dumpster fast enough, and Ricky caught me at a very embarrassing situation.

“Did you drop something?” he asks. I feel my face growing red as I try to nonchalantly brush my clothes clean and look like I didn’t just dive on the ground.

“Oh, yeah, my… thing. Girl thing.”

“I have two sisters, you can say tampon”, he laughs as he throws in his trash. I am so glad he doesn’t realize I made it sound like my tampon just fell out. “Nice evening, right? If it weren’t for the lights, you could see the stars clearly.”

Yeah, the sky is clear and there’s only a light breeze in the air. I look up at the sky, but can only see a few dots here and there. I’ve always wanted to go in the countryside somewhere at night so I could see the starry sky in all its glory. It’s just that driving in complete darkness in a strange place would be a little too scary, and I am not sleeping in a car.

I catch Ricky looking at me with a slight blush on his face, and wait for the wrong to set in to discourage any kind of romantic notion. But it doesn’t come. What happened to it? It always comes at moments like this!

“Um…” Ricky starts, wrings his hands, looks at the ground, looks at me, and starts again. “I – I cooked up something really good, if you’d, maybe, like to come in and, I don’t know, watch some anime?”

Where is that sense of wrong? I feel completely fine with saying yes to this ridiculously obvious date. It’s like it’s suddenly okay to like someone.

I – I kind of want to see what happens. It doesn’t have to lead to anything serious, I can just leave if wrong returns. Claim I didn’t realize this is a date.

I’m gonna do it!

“Yeah, okay! I got some mochi at my place, you liked the green tea ones, right?”

Ricky can’t believe I just said yes. His smile is so wide you could fit a camel in his mouth, despite him clearly trying to play it cool, like he’s a smooth player.

“Those were the kind you got me for Christmas? Where did you buy them?” Aww, he remembered! He hadn’t looked too happy with his first taste of mochi, but I guess they grew on him.

“The Chinese store on West street, they got many kinds.”

“Never thought I’d say I like green tea”, Ricky jokes and stops even trying to hide his joy.

“My favorite is durian, smells horrible but tastes heavenly.”

Does that count as an accidental pun? Rapture and Meta are still around, aren’t they? Just invisible. What’s up with that, anyway?

“Was that the purple one, or –“

Ricky is cut off by Meta suddenly appearing right at his side and making him jump away in surprise.

“Will you two just get ON WITH IT!” she yells exasperated. “I’m TIRED, I need my SMOKES, and I’m not getting EITHER while you two keep standing here FLIRTING WITH EACH OTHER!”

Ricky stares at her in terrified silence, and I can’t think of anything to say either. Meta huffs again – seems to be her thing.

“Do you at least have smokes?”

Ricky shakes his head timidly.

“Well of FUCKING COURSE you don’t! Fucking useless garbage! Thirsty little bitch who probably still wets the bed…”

“What the hell Meta?!” I yell. Yeah, I’m a nice person, but I’m not gonna just stand there while this bitch insults my friend! Angel or not, she needs to show some basic respect! “You can’t just blow up like that! Apologize!”

She stares at me in stunned silence, and I can just hear the Did this bitch honestly-! Uh-huh, you bet your ass I did! “Ricky’s a nice guy, he doesn’t deserve you giving him shit for not enabling your bad habits!”

Uh-oh, bad move. Meta goes from disbelief to fite me! in under a second.

“You realize he probably beats off to you every single night? Nice guys like him watch the most fucked up Asian bondage porn”, Meta shoots, and stomps inside.

“She’s wrong!” Ricky instantly squeaks. “I don’t even watch normal person! I swear! SHE’S LYING!”

…and he escapes. I doubt this date is happening anymore.

When I get inside, Meta is already sprawled out on the couch. Rapture becomes visible the second I close the door. She begins a long, furious rant that same second.

“Meta! Your work ethics are deplorable! We are under strict orders not to show ourselves to normal humans! You mouth off any human you meet and spend your time smoking and rotting your brain with TV and lazing around and drinking and nothing I say ever gets through to you! Get up! What a fine image you are giving your client!”

Rapture is a lot less angelic when she rants at someone she clearly considers beneath her. That feel-good aura is completely gone and her face contorts in inhuman ways. Her voice also is also slowly losing its melodic qualities and turning more and more shrill every ten seconds. And she talks for many ten seconds. Wow, can she flap her lips! She just keeps going and going and going about the innumerable flaws Meta has, while the object of this rant does nothing to hide her prissiness though she never defends herself, either. Guess she’s used to this, and knows the fastest way to get it over with is not to argue. I may not like her, and maybe I do agree with Rapture on many points, but it’s still overkill to put someone down for almost ten minutes.

“Please calm down, Rapture, I’m sure she got the message.”

Despite this being such a meek protest, she actually turns to face me – her eyes have turned black and her face is considerably more angular and sharp than earlier. She returns back to normal in seconds, like she forgot I was here and tries to pretend she didn’t just chew out her partner. Her huge wings knock off two glasses on my table, which thankfully don’t break, and after some deliberation she decides her visage is angelic enough without the wings. She sheds them by letting the feathers fall of in a dramatic cascade. Fortunately they fall through the floor and don’t just pile up for me to clean up.

“I assume you would like an explanation of the situation?” she asks, and I nod. Behind her back Meta rolls her eyes and drops back on the couch. “Your grandchild will be the second coming of the messiah.”

Messiah? As in, Jesus Christ? And his second coming? Woah, seems Christianity is the only religion. Am I gonna have to give up Allah?

“We will stay here to protect you, to ensure the bloodline keeps going.”

“Have you been protecting me my whole life? But – why would you never show yourselves?”

You’d think protecting me was a little easier if I knew what could happen to me. I could, you know, maybe try and prepare, instead of freezing and trying to fistfight a demon. Plus I probably would have gone to church a lot more often. God likes it when people go to church.

“Oh, no, we were assigned to this task today. Powers are much too conspicuous – before this, a guardian angel was more suited to the task. They are everywhere and have very little power, so they do not attract attention. But now that you have been discovered, Satan will do all in his power to break the bloodline. He will do anything to escape judgment.”

She smiles reassuringly, but suddenly her smile doesn’t captivate me like it just minutes before. Yeah, she’s still super beautiful, but hearing her nag so passionately didn’t exactly earn her points in my book.

“Not to worry, we can take anything the enemy throws at you.”

Right, yeah, I guess I should be worried about my own life, now that she mentioned it.

“So Christianity’s God is the only true god?” I blurt out. Rapture smiles brightly, while Meta vigorously shakes her head behind her back.

“So… is He or isn’t He?”

“Of course He is! What else would He be?” Rapture barks.

“He’s so far from the only one he’s not even a decimal”, Meta comments. Rapture shoots her a truly venomous look, and clearly plans to lecture her some more later.

This is all a bit much to take in… I’m the grandmother of Jesus, and angels can’t agree on whether God is the only god or not, and I’m gonna have to tell mom and dad all this craziness… Oh and my life is gonna be in danger basically 24/7 now.

“Okay guys, I need some alone time. Good night, sorry but I only have that one couch… Try and share it or something.”

Rapture lets out an indignant scoff, but I don’t look at her. I just close the bedroom door and fall on the bed. I should do my evening prayers, but what can I even say tonight? Should I pray to both my Gods, or just one? Should I address one to all the possible deities, since Meta said there’s a whole lot? Would just one shared prayer do or am I gonna have to sit here ‘til I faint from hunger?

Eventually I settle on praying to both God and Allah, as I do every evening. I simply pray for guidance. As predicted, Rapture nags at Meta, but at least she’s doing it quietly, and lets me fall asleep.

Crumbs… Crumbs everywhere… Poor sandwiches, can’t be easy going to school when you shed all over the floors and eat yourself for lunch, and Ham can’t even find its cow.

“BLESSED SILENCE!”

I hear a confused groan and it takes a few seconds to realize I’m the one who made it. It’s pitch black in my room.

“Sorry, it got a little too quiet”, Meta explains. I groan again. This is just great, she woke up in the fucking dead of night because it was too quiet? That’s the ideal for night!

At least I fall asleep again reasonably quick.

#ApocalypseIn50 #ApocalypseUniverse #Ally #Ricky #Saida #Rapture #Meta #wiptale #linssioriginals #original fiction

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