#at the mag treating his wife like a SIDE PIECE

[thesafireartist]

PFFFFFT

Why does this work so well?

Also maybe Magnifico will treat Miguel better than his wife in the movie smh

WAIT I JUST REALIZED SMTH

DOES THIS MEAN THAT HE IS SOME SORT OF THERAPIST???

WAIT THIS IS TOO FUNNY IMAGINE HIM TRYING TO GIVE THERAPY TO THE OTHER AUS IT WOULD BE HALARIOUS-

Guess the apple doesn't stray far from the tree smh 🤦‍♂️/j I love all of them sm

@rascalentertainments @oh-shtars @jojo-ker06 @spectator-zee

@annymation @thesafireartist @uva124 @chillwildwave

[thgfanficinspo]

Fear of the Water - 20

Annie meets the other victors from District 4

From the Start - Jonsa - Coryo

(ANNIE)

There are nice clothes in my closet but I don’t want to wear them because I know they’re from the Capitol. And I’m not in the Capitol anymore and I don’t want it on me I don’t want it hanging off my skin.

I find one of my everyday dresses that Bosun brought along to the new house and slip it on. I always wear big shapeless dresses that go to my knees. I like them because they don’t get in my way – I can run around or work or sleep or do anything without them causing me any trouble. They’re long enough that I don’t have to worry about people seeing too much if I crouch or bend or climb, and the materials are simple and comfortable, and the fact that they’re so loose means I don’t have to keep adjusting them like I would with regular dresses. And I like that they’re dresses, too.  Pants always trip me up, and I don’t like worrying about two different pieces of clothing when I can just wear one.

I don’t like being in this new bedroom, at least not yet. I don’t like being in this house. It’s too big. Too many rooms. Creaky floorboards and rusty door hinges. Too many places for something to hide.

I change as fast as I can and then run back downstairs. Bosun is pacing in a circle around the main room. He glances up at me. “Get changed; we’re gonna be late.”

I shake my head.

He opens his mouth and curls his lip like always does when he’s about to yell at me but he makes himself stop and take a deep breath to calm down because I think he knows he shouldn’t yell at me, at least not yet. He’s trying to wait a couple days to let me settle in before he starts up again. I hope he doesn’t start up again at all.

When things are good with Bosun, they’re great. It’s like we’re the only people in the world and we’re everything to each other. But then when I start counting things or get “stuck in a loop,” as he says, he gets annoyed and tells me to stop even though he knows I can’t. if I stop it feels like a million tiny ants covering every bit of my skin and I can’t move or do anything until I’ve finished counting.

He raises his eyebrows at me in some sort of prompt. “Ready?”

There are three big dogs in front of Mags’s porch that stare at us as we approach. I think of the dogs in the arena and start to pull away from Bosun, but he holds onto me. “They’re just dogs,” he says. “You can’t be afraid of dogs forever.”

Mags appears in the doorway. “Annie! Bosun!” She waves her hand at the dogs and they disperse. “Ignore them. They hang around wherever they think they can get food. They’re harmless.”

All the homes on Victor’s Isle follow a formula, but there are subtle differences in each. My new house seems to have less walls than Mags’s. Hers is artfully decorated and looks comforting and warm. She’s had almost sixty years to work on it.

“The others are already inside. I don’t think Eefa will make it, though. She’s not one for socializing.”

The others, including Broadsea.

Broadsea. He was a member of the Career pack during his Games. He betrayed them relatively early on – probably because he didn’t like working with other people and he didn’t want them out there working against him. Broadsea was on watch one night while his allies slept. He killed them each, one by one, by slitting their throats or stabbing them through the heart.  

One of them managed to get a knife and hack his face apart before dying.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when we find him in the kitchen.

“Annie, Bosun, this is Broadsea.”

And there he is – arms crossed over his enormous chest. He’s well over six feet and at least two inches taller than Finnick, who’s already taller than six feet, too. The best word I can think to describe him is sturdy.  He looks like he could stand in one spot during a tidal wave and not even notice it crashing over him. He has hazel eyes and his jaw is strong and square and half his face is hardly a face at all.

That scar – it’s one thing to see on television, but completely different in person. He had some medicine to treat the wound, but not enough. The wound was infected. He did a piecemeal job of stitching it back together with threads pulled from his fallen allies’ clothing.

They cleaned it up as best they could in the Capitol, even removed some tissue and tried to build him a new cheek artificially, but it didn’t work. I still can’t believe he survived such a thing. Now it’s as wide as a finger from his right cheekbone to his jaw, where it dips under his chin and stretches down almost onto his neck. Ghostly pale against his coffee-colored skin. He grew a beard to partially cover it, but no hair grows over the corrupted flesh, so it just makes it stand out even more.

Not to mention the fingertips and toes he lost to frostbite. And the tip of his nose. But those have all been patched up.

He gives of us each a good up and down look before turning away without a word.

Proteus turns away from the stove to greet us and I feel a little bit better because Proteus is not scary or mean and I sort of know him. “Ah, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted your opinion on the sauce I made for the duck before I serve it.” He gives me and Bosun each a little spoonful of orangey-brown stuff. Bosun takes a lick and offers his compliments.

Finnick strolls in as we taste, completely ignoring Broadsea even though they’re about to walk right into each other. He stops for a moment and shoots him a mocking smile before he steps aside to let him through. Broadsea keeps on walking, knocking back another glass of liquor as he makes his way to the sitting room. Finnick is bright again as soon as Broadsea gone. “Do I get a sample?” he asks, flashing that winning smile.

He was fourteen when he was in my place. A child. But he doesn’t look like a child anymore. He was never exactly childlike, though; in the arena he was handsome and young with a chiseled face and sparkling eyes, his cheeks always flushed from being outside. He was gorgeous, and everyone was impatient to watch him grow up and therefor more handsome. And so they could touch him. So he could touch them.

I still don’t understand that – why he wants to jump from bed to bed. Surely the gifts they give him can’t be worth all the trouble. Is he just bored? Or is sex really that good? Having someone flop around and sweat all over you doesn’t sound terribly appealing to me, even with someone like Finnick.

Finnick pulls me out of my mind when he sidles up next to me. “I see you met Broadsea,” he murmurs. He produces a handful of sugar cubes seemingly out of nowhere, pops some in his mouth, and stars crunching away. He speaks through the mouthful: “Don’t feel bad – he hardly ever talks. And he’s an asshole anyway.” He realizes something. “Oh, do you want some candy or sugar or something? I keep a stash in the pantry. Mags thinks it’s bad for me, but I’m nineteen, so what I eat doesn’t really matter.”

If only he knew what it was like to be a woman.

“You might as well sit down,” Proteus says to us over his shoulder. “I’m almost ready to serve.”

Proteus’s wife, Brona, is already seated at the oval dining table, which is made of reclaimed wood.

Her clear, smooth skin is the color of honey and almonds, and she keeps her dark hair tied behind her head in a tight bun that pulls the skin on her forehead taut. Her mouth and teeth are big, but they fit better with her face than my big mouth and teeth fit with mine. She introduces herself and shakes Bosun’s hand. She doesn’t try to shake mine; somebody probably warned her about it.

I wonder how hard it must be for her and Proteus, to be separated from your love for the whole summer. Assuming they love each other.

It surprises me that so many victors have families – about a third of them, I think – but the fact that any of them has one is surprising. Any one of us, now.

Eefa got married at nineteen – a normal age in the districts but unbelievably young for the Capitol – and had two children, but she only speaks to one of them now. Proteus is married, of course, which honestly seems odd to me. He and Brona appear more like friends than lovers, but even friends might be too intimate a term. They don’t have children. On television, they always show Proteus next to a victor from District 5 who won a few years after him – the 55th Games, I think. He actually shows genuine fondness for the man; that’s obvious even through a televisions screen.

I wonder if Brona knows about this man. She seems very cold so I don’t know if she’d care.

We sit down and tuck in to eat. Finnick pulls out Mags’s chair and then mine and pushes them both in for us. He takes the chair between us and smiles at me as he settles in and my ears get red. Bosun is on my other side. Broadsea is directly across from me. I try not to look at him.

Proteus brings out a thick orange soup as our first course. He tells us what it’s made from but I don’t pay attention since the smell is so distracting. I start eating before everyone’s been served, which I think is rude but I don’t care. I slurp down two bowls and a fist-sized loaf of bread before anyone else finishes their first serving. I don’t care enough to look up at them or excuse myself.

I didn’t really eat today. Our kitchen isn’t stocked yet but I found some nuts and hid them in my pocket because I forget that there will be more food and that I don’t have to be hungry anymore ever. I haven’t counted them yet.

Bosun keeps looking back and forth from me to the other victors – trying to gauge my reactions to them and their reactions to me. He looks like he’s ready to leap across the table if he has to, though I don’t know why he would. He’s too smart to tangle with a victor. And he doesn’t even get into arguments with people he’s not related to. But he’s plenty argumentative with me and our cousins and Chelsea and me and me and me.

Broadsea observes me throughout the first course, which takes about half an hour for everyone to finish. He looks at me like some new trinket – strange and intriguing and more than anything else, a source of amusement. He’s continually eating hunks of bread which he tears from the rolls with his stumpy fingers (they had to amputate four fingertips above the knuckle after he won due to frostbite) and dips them in the soup. For every mouthful of bread he tears some off and puts it in his pocket. Maybe he forgets, too. About not being hungry anymore.

Finnick watches me too, but in a much softer way. His pretty green eyes are warm where his gaze touches my skin. He smiles whenever I do, and he’s quick with a story whenever there’s a lull in conversation.  

Proteus brings out the main course, which is made with duck rather than fish. People in District 4 get sick all the time from eating too much fish, so duck is a usual substitute, since that’s really the only other animal around except for seagulls. Duck is fancier than seagull. More expensive. But I guess that’s not a big deal since victors have so much money and we don’t ever have to be hungry anymore.

It’s served with turnips and Katniss root.

When I see it on the platter my stomach starts to roll over itself. My hands are shaking.

���Annie?”

I don’t know who says it. I don’t know who they’re saying it to.

I stand up fast, knocking my chair over and then tripping on it as I try to get away. I can’t be here. They’ll kill me to get my food. They’ll kill me for still being alive. I have to get away or they’ll kill me like they killed Piers and I don’t want to die but my legs aren’t working so I have to drag myself across the floor I can’t breathe.

“Annie! Annie!” It’s many voices now. They’re behind me, above me, closing in on me and I can’t breathe. I scoot back until my back slams against the wall. Put my hands over my ears so I can’t hear the mutts eating the boy from 6 or Piers screaming while they saw through him.

Bosun’s face is right in front of mine, saying “Annie? Annie?”

He’s not supposed to be here. His name wasn’t drawn. Why is he here? Why isn’t he home? They’ll cut his head off and they’ll poke out his eyes I’ll poke out his eyes and get goop on my hands and I can’t wipe it off.

“Run!” I scream at him. “Bosun, run! Run!”

And all the voices start screaming “Annie!” too loud and I don’t like it.

I try to shuffle further back but my head hits the wall and it goes dark.

[anavoliselenu]

ruthless chapter 17

“Do you know why we call people rats?” she asked him as Antonio walked in with a cage full of the beady-eyed creatures.

 Selena, with no reservation, grabbed one of them.

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 Note to self—ask doctor about shots for her and the baby.

 “Because they are self-preservation creatures. They have no honor, no loyalty. It’s all about doing what they can to save themselves. In fact”—she smirked throwing the rat into a small jar—“they will eat anything if it means their survival.”

 “She wouldn’t,” Neal whispered.

 “I’m done doubting Selena. It’s unhealthy to be proven wrong so many times,” Declan whispered back.

 Cross struggled as Antonio fit the jar and the rat on the end of his decapitated wrist. But she wasn’t done. Despite her calm appearance, she was seething. Pulling out a lighter, she held it to the jar, and the rat ran toward his wrist to get away from the flame. Cross screamed against the sock.

 “So many limbs, so many rats. You called me a bitch . . . twice, insulted not only my intelligence, but also my abilities, and then killed my doctor. How ticked do you think I am?” she asked him.

 “First question and I’ll make it easy. What is the Valero’s next move?” He only screamed in pain.

 “Take your time. I can wait for you to stop screaming,” she added, drinking her damn smoothie.

 SELENA

 “He’s unconscious,” Fedel informed me, putting his hand to Cross’s neck. I was surprised he was still alive, he lasted two hours.

 Sighing, I stood up and rolled my neck. “Make sure he doesn’t die.”

 Cross had only given bits and pieces of information, most of which didn’t make any sense. It had to be the blood loss. However, I would get an answer, and I would put an end to them all.

 “It’s you who should be worried about dying.” Cross spoke out in a daze. His eyes were barely open, and he was so pale he could have been mistaken for a corpse.

 “I still have my hands and foot.” Who the fuck did this idiot think he was?

 He smiled and laughed like a mad man. Fedel punched the side of his face, but Cross only laughed harder. Then the house shook so violently I had to hold on to Antonio for a moment. It took me only a second later to realize what caused it.

 Justin busted in. “The east wing was just bombed, we need to move.”

 “See you all in hell motherfuckers. Tell the Boss I said hello.” Cross laughed and passed out.

 There was another explosion and the look in Justin’s eyes as he pulled out not only one but two guns was the deadliest I had ever seen.

 We were under attack.

 TWENTY-EIGHT

 “Any of you fuckin’ pricks move,

 and I’ll execute every mother fuckin’ last one of ya.”

 ~ Honey Bunny, Pulp Fiction

 SELENA

 “Monte,” I hissed through my teeth, and a second later, he placed a machine pistol and two extra mags in my hands.

 “Your orders are to shoot to kill everyone but Amory or Saige,” Justin snapped at him. Fedel and Monte didn’t even waste a second before they were out the door. Placing the magazines in the back of my pants, I could feel the bloodlust kicking in.

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 “Where is the family?”

 “The safe room . . . where you should be,” he said to me, grabbing hold of my arm before I could leave.

 “Justin, I don’t want to waste bullets, but so help me God if you think for a second that I’m going to sit behind walls and wait for the storm to settle, I will end you myself,” I snapped at him holding my gun to his nose.

 His green eyes narrowed. “You’re pregnant. Get the fuck behind the wall, Selena.”

 “Fuck you.” I glared back before walking out. The moment I did, all I saw was destruction. It was like . . . it was like we were bombed. Lights flickered, wires dangled from the ceiling, and all I could hear was gunfire.

 Leaning against the wall, I held my gun to my chest as Justin came up right next to me.

 “Done treating me like a bitch and not your wife?” I asked, trying to see where the gunfire was coming from.

 “You better not get hurt or I will kill you myself, love.” Justin smirked, kissing my cheek before stepping forward, shooting blindly into the hall and yet somehow, hitting the motherfuckers.

 Stepping out from behind the wall, I glared at him as he smirked. “I hate you.”

 “You love me . . .” He was cut off as I shot into the hall at one asshole hiding behind a broken door.

 “You forgot one.” I smirked before running down the hall and I could feel him right behind me.

 The moment we reached the east wing, it looked like an all-out war between our men, who used every part of themselves, including teeth and fists, and broken glass to kill if they were without a weapon. From the corner of my eye, I saw Neal almost rip the arm off a Russian. The air was clogged with the scent of blood, and I was going deaf from all the noise around me. Out of nowhere, a blade sliced up my leg, and the second I looked down, I met the eyes of the fool who thought it was a good idea to cut me with glass.

 Stomping my heel into his face, I screamed as his blood went everywhere. Wiping my face with my arms, I turned to see Justin slit a man’s throat. When he looked over again, he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his gaze, in time to see Amory put a bullet in Eric’s forehead.

 Justin roared so loudly I would have thought it was him who made the house shake. “Amory!”

 Amory appeared shocked at first, as if he had forgotten whose house he had attacked. But the shock soon gave way to fear as Justin stalked toward him like the devil himself. The moment anyone blocked his path, they were struck down so quickly I didn’t even have time to blink. I wanted to watch him rain fire and brimstone on the fool, but I wasn’t sure what they knew our how much they were after. There were only a few of them left. I needed to make sure that all our files and information weren’t being stolen right from under us.

 “Neal!” I yelled for him but he was too far gone in his thirst for blood, and was busy shooting down the motherfuckers in his way. He looked almost giddy, like he was in some video game and invincible.

 Glancing back at Justin one last time, I watched as his fist collided with Amory’s face before running down the hall. The further I went, jumping over rubble and exposed wires, the louder the screams. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was. Between the sparks, smoke, and the flames, I could barely see a few feet in front of me. As I peered around the corner, I heard someone scream.

 “Let go of me!”

 It was Olivia, yelling as three large men surrounded her like wolves around a sheep.

 “You’re pretty,” one of the men said, “but you would be prettier on my cock.”

 They all laughed as he grabbed at her, and in that second I put a bullet in his head, causing the blood to spatter all over her face. She stood there, shaken, while the other two men spun around, releasing a hail of bullets.

 Jumping behind what was left of a broken wall, I yelled out, “You have two seconds to run before I place a bullet in your brains.”

 “Fuck you, bitch, you’re outnumbered,” one said in a heavy accent.

 “Come out like a good bitch and we’ll be gentle with ya,” the other said, laughing, and all I could hear was Olivia’s scream. She was annoying as fuck. Why couldn’t she have just gone to the safe room like a good little damsel in distress? Taking a deep breath, I stood up slowly, hands up.

 Guns pointed in my face, the men smirked. The one holding Olivia smiled. “Drop the gun, sweetheart.”

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 “I warned you,” was all I said to him, smirking as Fedel came up behind the other one. I shot through the hand the motherfucker was holding Olivia with, and when he backed up, I shot him right in his eye.

 Rushing over to Olivia as she screamed, I grabbed her bloody arm. Ripping my shirt, I wrapped it quickly and forced her to look me in the eyes.

 “Why the fuck aren’t you in the safe room?”

 “N-Neal . . .” she stammered in shock. “I–I-Neal.”

 Slapping her across the face, I glared into her eyes. “Get your shit together and move, or I will kill you myself. Fedel, get her to safety. She fights, knock her out.”

 He nodded and I left her in his care before running down the hall. This had to be a distraction. They wanted something. The east wing was nothing but bedrooms, and if they were smart, they had gotten blueprints of the house, which meant they knew what was in the west wing. Some of our most important documents, cash, and codes were kept in west wing.

 Running up broken stairs, the heat of a bullet seared me as it pierced my shoulder with so much force, I landed on my back and rolled down the stairs.

 It was the woman I remembered seeing at Amory and Saige’s wedding smiled as she looked down at me. “Oops, did I hurt you?”

 I tried reaching for my gun, but she stomped on my hand.

 “Do you even know who I am?” she hissed down at me, her gun pointed in my face. “Your people killed my brother.”

 “Sweetheart, we’ve killed a lot of people. I don’t give a fuck about your brother, lady.” I said into the barrel of the gun.

 “You bitch!” she screamed, but I would give her something to scream about. Grabbing on to a nearby electrical wire, I pressed the exposed wires against her leg, turning away as they sparked and shook her as though she was having a seizure.

 Crawling away from her, I held my shoulder and tried to keep calm. I felt the urge to grab my stomach, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop, and I couldn’t allow myself to panic. But even knowing all that, I still found myself rubbing circles over my stomach for a moment before I got back up and headed up the stairs.

 When I entered the secret room, I found no one there. Pulling up our files, I began to send them to other computers before deleting everything. I heard what sounded like glass cracking and turned around, pointing my gun at the face of the devil’s mistress. But the gun slipped from my hand as I glanced down at the blade in my stomach.

 “I warned you,” Saige Valero said, laughing. It was the last thing I remembered before everything went dark.

 JUSTIN

 “Hold him still,” I told Declan and Neal as they brought Amory to his knees in front of me. The fucker thought he could out run me. The moment I had my hands on him, he knew his life was over and the prick ran. I caught up to him in what was left of my half-a-million-dollar garage.

 Placing my brass knuckles on, I pounded his face.

 “You thought you could come into my house,” I yelled as I broke his jaw. “You thought you could destroy me?” I loved the sound of the bones in his face breaking with only his skin to hold it together. “You thought you could burn my fucking house down!” I couldn’t even see his face through all the blood.

 “You thought you could hurt my family? You reckless”—his teeth burst out of his mouth like popped corn—“idiotic”—punch—“motherfucking cunt!” Punch.

 The moment I stopped, the flesh of his nose was kissing his lips and one eye was out of its socket.

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“You? The great big piece of shit who no mother could love and no father could even respect. But worst of all, the man-whore who just had to fuck up my motherfucking day,” I sighed, wiping my nose before grabbing the chains.

 “I saw this on a movie once,” I told him as Neal and Declan bound his feet and hands to the ends of two different cars. “I always wanted to know if the human body would actually rip apart.”

 Amory coughed up more teeth as they bound him. “How’s your wife, Justin?”

 It was only then did something click in my mind, and I felt my heart drop into my stomach. However, I couldn’t let it play on my face. Instead, I nodded to the two drivers and they begin to drive away from each other as Amory’s body rose from the ground and his screams increased.

 “I’ll be sure to mail this to your father,” I told him, nodding once more at the drivers, and pushing it to full speed. I reveled in the sound of his cries as his body ripped open. But looking up, his words still haunted me.

 “Where the fuck is my wife?” I yelled over the roars of the engines, and as I did, Olivia rushed in covered in blood. Neal didn’t even waste a moment, rushing to her side, but she just pushed out of his arm and ran to me.

 “Selena—she saved me, but . . .” She stammered, and stopped speaking the moment she saw the two halves of Amory’s body.

 “Olivia!” I yelled, grabbing her arms. “Where is my wife?”

 Shaking, her eyes went wide. “She left me with Fedel, and he put me in one of the safe rooms. But I saw on the camera, Saige . . . some room full of computers . . . everything was . . . Selena didn’t see her . . . she . . . Saige . . .”

 I never thought I would have to raise a hand to any woman in my family but in that moment, I slapped her so hard she fell on the ground. Neal stepped forward, but Declan held him back.

 “Olivia, one last time . . . Where. Is. My. Wife?”

 “Saige stabbed her in the stomach. Then Patrick came and helped Saige escape with some documents. Sedric is with Selena now,” she sobbed.

 I never ran so fast in my life. I felt as though I was possessed. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear. And by God, I didn’t want to feel anything. The only room Selena would go to would be in the west wing. She would have tried to protect our files. Files they could have gotten with Patrick. I trusted him. I brought him into this family. And he fucked me over. He had balls, but not for long. I stopped when my feet could take me no further, and stared at the river of blood that led to my wife’s body. My father hovered above her, his shirt off and wrapped around her body.

 “Your mother has called an ambulance. I’ve stopped the bleeding for now, but . . .” Falling to my knees, I wasn’t sure what to do. She looked so pale, so sick, and so different from the woman I saw only a few hours ago.

 “Justin,” my father snapped at me, trying to pull me from my despair. “Your wife will live. Right now, you need to stay calm. Do you understand me?”

 I nodded. All I could do was nod as though I was a fucking bobble head. “Patrick Darragh. Patrick betrayed us. I—”

 “Son, you have done your duty. The house is secure. Take care of your wife,” he said, and I felt the pressure building up in the back of my throat. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t, not without possibly causing any more damage. Kissing her forehead, nose, and lips, it took all my willpower to back away as the paramedics came in.

 SELENA

 Everything hurt. Everything was darkness. But in that darkness, one voice rang out louder and stronger than all the rest.

 “Selena. My beautiful Selena. I’m right here.” He sounded so sad. “Justin . . .” was all I could say before I drifted back into the darkness.

 JUSTIN

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 “Mr. Callahan, don’t worry. We have the best doctors operating on your wife. If there is anything—and I mean anything—” Grabbing her by the neck, I slammed her body against the wall.

 “Are you flirting with me, Dr. Lewis?” Her eyes widened in fear, as she tried her best to pull my hand away from her very narrow throat. I only squeezed tighter. “Are you flirting with me while some idiot is sewing my wife back together? Tell me you aren’t so I don’t have to rip your head from your shoulders, you classless, low-life, idiotic bitch!”

 “Please,” she cried, kicking her feet wildly.

 “Justin, we are in public,” my mother whispered behind me.

 “So? Who are you going to call?” I turned to the rest of the hospital staff. “I own this motherfucking hospital, and I own this fucking city. If you didn’t know it before, you know it now!”

 Turning to the bitch as she turned blue, I glared into her eyes. “Never come near me again or I swear on the head of your mother and father, I will kill you.”

 Dropping her on the ground, I took my seat again, pulling out a cigarette as my father handed me a lighter while mother frowned. It was the only thing that could calm me down now. Neal held on to Olivia for dear life. Declan kept staring at Coraline as if she could disappear at any moment. I knew they were still fighting or whatever the fuck they were doing, but they would be fine. Despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at him, she did allow him to hold her hand. The only ones who truly seemed calm were my parents, but I knew it was simply due to the fact that they had done this before. It wasn’t the first time we had lost a child because of the Valero, but it would be the last. I would make sure of it. I did my best not to think about it. But it left a burn in my chest and made my blood boil.

 The moment the surgeon came out, we were all on our feet.

 “Don’t waste words. How is she?”

 “Mr. Callahan, your wife is fine and is now in her room. We did everything we could for the child, but . . .”

 Turning away from him, I nodded at Declan and Neal who already knew no one but family and her doctors were to enter that room.

 “Thank you, doctor.”

 “Blake, sir, Dr. Nickolas Blake,” he said quickly, shaking my hand. I tried to leave but my mother held on to me.

 “Everyone go. We need a moment.” She said it in such a way that none of us could even bring ourselves to argue. I had never heard so much anger roll off her tongue. She and my father shared a quick glance before she pulled me off to the side.

 “Mother, whatever it—”

 “Right now, this very moment, will define you and your marriage forever,” she said. In her eyes, all I saw was pain. “The wife you once knew is not going to be the same woman you see when you walk into the room. Imagine that Selena ‘the Boss’ is simply asleep and how you react will define how long she remains so. She needs to mourn.”

 She doesn’t know my wife. She didn’t even shed a tear after her father died.

 “Selena isn’t the crying type.”

 My mother slapped the back of my head, something only she could do. “You’re not listening to me. Your wife was attacked. Her child was stolen from her. She isn’t the same ‘type’ you remember. At least not now. You have two choices—pull away or hold on to her even when her words and actions hurt you. Because they will, believe me they will. Do not make the same mistakes your father and I made.”

 “You came through it,” I whispered. Here they were, so many years later, as in love as ever.

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 She smiled, but it didn’t make her eyes shine like usual. “I asked for a divorce. I had the papers drawn up and even called my cousin in Canada. Your father agreed. Had you not gone to the hospital, we wouldn’t have made it. He couldn’t handle my mood swings or all the names I called him. I couldn’t stop myself from blaming him. We made it. But we made it through the hard way. So this, son, is your defining hour, and how you react now will either break or make your future. Whatever pain and anger you are holding on to let it go before you see her or you may just lose her.”

 She kissed me on the cheek before leaving me standing there, unable to even speak. I couldn’t even breathe. Walking into a nearby supply room, I let the tears fall for the child I would never get to meet—who I would never get to know—and I tried to not let myself grow angry with her. What was fucked up was the fact that my anger at Selena overshadowed my anger at Saige. I told her not go. I told her to get in the fucking safe room, but she didn’t listen. She never listened.

 Slapping my cheeks, I took a deep breath before walking back out again. No one made eye contact with me until I stood right outside her door. Neal and Declan were smart enough to look away.

 It felt like hours before I found the will to walk in, and to my surprise, Selena was sitting up. She looked so dazed, like she had gone to war and come back, but nothing was the same as it once was. Evelyn kissed her forehead, while Coraline gave her a small hug. Olivia stayed back. She stood next to Sedric with her head hung low as if she were some servant, and the sight of it pissed me off.

 “Out,” was all I had to say before they left, and it was in that same moment that I knew my mother was right. Never in all our months together had I ever see Selena jump at my voice.

 Taking a seat beside her, she shook her head at me as she fought the tears building in her eyes.

 “Say it,” she whispered.

 “Say what?” Anything she wanted me to say I would say.

 “Say it was my fault. Say I killed our child. Say it was for the greater good, because I would have been a horrible mother anyway.”

 Anything but that. Taking off my jacket, I laid next her, pulling her into my arms.

 “This was not your fault, and you did not kill our child. You would, and will, be a great mother,” I whispered, kissing for forehead.

 “Then why do I feel this way?” She held on to my shirt as she fought back her sobs.

 I couldn’t answer, mostly because I couldn’t think of what to say. I felt so guilty for thinking that this was her fault just moments ago. This was Saige. This was the Valero, and they would pay dearly.

 After Selena had gone to sleep, I let go of her and stepped out into the hallway.

 Neal, Declan, Monte, Fedel, and my father all stood waiting. I didn’t trust any of them. That’s what Patrick had done. He had broken the band of trust that we kept in our innermost circles.

 “How did this happen?”

 “Patrick was the one who found the lead on Cross, the man Selena was interrogating.” Declan stated. “He had a CS-5 jammer implanted inside of him. With that, it blocked half of our defense codes and sensors. From there, Patrick opened the gate from the inside. He’s been working for them for mouths. We have no idea why he betrayed us. All they needed was a person willing to die, and Cross was that person. With the botched surgery he had to get the jammer inside of him he did not have long anyway. It was simple.”

 “Getting into our home should never be simple,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I want him found and I want to know how no one else knew. Then I want you to call every Irish or Italian man in the damn country able to build our house. We aren’t moving.” “Justin we can stay in the summer home—”

 “We are not moving!” I yelled, breathing through my nose before taking a step back. “I will not be chased out of my home like a poverty stricken street rat. There is plenty of house left. Pick a room and deal with it, Father.”

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 He raised an eyebrow at me, grinning before he nodded.

 “As for Vance and Saige, take photos of Amory’s body and send it to them. When you’re done, throw Amory’s body anywhere you fucking please. Ship him to the moon for all I fucking care. Just make sure Vance knows those pictures are all that he will ever have left of his son.” Part of me wished I hadn’t killed Amory outright and used him for some leverage to bring down his father.

 “When are we hitting back, boss?” Fedel asked me, and I do believe that was the first time he had ever called me his boss.

 “We start now.” I glanced over to them all. “Declan, gather every motherfucking hacker and suck him dry. Anything you can destroy, do it. The rest of you, your orders are the same. Shoot to kill. I don’t care if they’re in the street or their damn beds. We’re ending this if I have to bomb all of Russia to do it.”

 TWENTY-NINE

 “The family that mourns together

 survives forever.”

 ~ J.J. McAvoy

 SEDRIC

 It was déjà vu. No father ever wanted to watch his son suffer as he had. Our sons and daughters were supposed to move forward. Make new mistakes. Forge new paths and conquer new mountains. Yet Justin was fighting my battle. I should have killed off Vance years ago. I should have prevented all this, but I failed.

 Allowing the smoke to fill my lungs, I stared up at the sky.

 “Sedric.” Jumping at the sound of my wife’s voice, I looked back to find her glaring at the joint in my hands.

 “Sorry,” I whispered, preparing to throw it out, when she simply took it from my hands and took a long drag.

 Smirking, she handed it back to me. “Only tonight. After today, it should be allowed.”

 “This reminds me of college.” Smoking on the roof after a long, hard day of sex. There was some studying every once in a while also, but still.

 “I was pregnant, remember? I couldn’t smoke.”

 “Oh, right.” I laughed as she hit me, but I just held on to her.

 “Will they be okay? Can they get through this?” she whispered.

 “I don’t know. It’s only the first day.”

 CORALINE

 I really didn’t know how I got to the maternity ward. I was simply walking and next thing I knew, there were babies as far as the eye could see. They were all enchanting and peaceful. Looking at them almost made me forget that the world sometimes sucked.

 “They are cute, aren’t they?” Declan whispered next to me.

 “Shouldn’t you be guarding Selena?”

 He smiled. “Neal, Fedel, and Monte are all standing watch.”

 I said nothing, and he looked at the babies.

 “I keep trying to wonder what ours will look like. Justin was so happy. He was kind of high all time.”

 Again, I said nothing.

 “Cora—”

 “What Declan?” I snapped. “You want me to give you the time of day because you sat outside my door and played music? But you wouldn’t give me the time of day even after I let you fuck me any way you pleased.”

 He took my hand and kissed it before taking a step back, not speaking any longer. When I looked through the glass, a few of the babies were crying.

 “See what you did?”

 DECLAN

 I couldn’t help but smile at her. Even now as she cursed me out, as she should have, I smiled. She had killed someone. She was in the east wing when the bombs went off, and she fought her way to the safe room. A knife right in the motherfucker’s throat. If I didn’t know better, I would say I was falling in love with her all over again. But the truth was, I had never stopped loving her. I never could. I could wait her out. I could take every jab as long as I got her in the end.

 OLIVIA

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 Staring at my phone, I read Neal’s text message over again. It was all that was keeping me together right now.

 I love you and the moment I can, I will be at your side. I’m so sorry I wasn’t before.

 I tried to breathe. I tried to think. But all I could feel were the hands of those men. I almost fell out of my seat when Adriana took a seat beside me.

 “You were raped once weren’t you?” she asked me, and I did, in fact, stop breathing.

 “What? Why would you say—”

 “Don’t insult me by lying.” She smiled sadly. “I know what a rape victim looks like, and I also know what it feels like when Selena saves you from it. She takes you and she makes you unstoppable. She gives you your power back. She brings you back to life. So the next time a guy thinks he can ever lay a hand on you, you can show him what it feels like to piss off God himself.”

 With that, she left me wondering who her Harvey was and what had she done to him.

 THIRTY

 “I want to see your face when I kill you!

 I want to see the light leave your eyes!”

 ~ Voldemort

 Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire film,

 J.K. Rowling

 SELENA

 Day 5

 “Justin can be such an ass sometimes,” Coraline said as she fluffed my pillow. “You should be resting in the summer house drinking a Sex on the Beach and watching the Young and the Restless. But instead, he has us all on lockdown. Can you believe that? We’re on house arrest!”

 I said nothing.

 Sighing, Coraline fell onto the bed next to me. “I killed someone.”

 I said nothing.

 “Right, that’s probably not a big deal to you,” she whispered. “But for me it’s a huge deal. He came out of nowhere and I just reacted. Adriana told me to always carry at least two knives on me at all times, so I did. I still do. And that day I just pulled them out . . . and killed. But you know the most fucked up part?”

 Again, I said nothing.

 “I didn’t care,” she said. “The prick came into my home and tried to hurt me. And when I threw the blade right into his jugular, blood went everywhere. But all I could think was, ‘fuck this asshole better not have AIDS.’ That’s fucked up right? I’m a good person. I was a good person. Before, I would be freaking out, praying over him or something, and yet all I wanted to do was kick his ass because he might have just given me AIDS.”

 Nothing. I said nothing.

 “Selena, please speak to us. It’s been five days. At least say something. Anything,” Coraline begged me, but I couldn’t.

 Shifting onto my side, I tried to go back to sleep. I just wanted the darkness. I just wanted to sleep. It was the only time I felt anything.

 “We love you, Selena.” It was the last thing I heard before the darkness returned . . . thankfully.

 JUSTIN

 “Where are Vance and Saige?” Neal yelled. The prisoner he was speaking to dangled from the ceiling in front of us as I cut into my steak.

 “Go fuck yourselves,” the fool choked out.

 Neal looked to me, and I simply nodded while taking a bite of the bloody beef in front of me.

 Taking the drill from Declan, Neal held the point to the man’s collarbone.

 “Last chance. Where are Vance and Saige?” Neal asked again. Before the fool could get out his insult, Neal drilled, ripping through skin, muscle, tissue, and bone. He screamed like a pig on its way to the slaughterhouse . . . mostly because he was. Neal stopped only when we could see the drill head on the other end of the man’s body, then he pulled it out and moved to the other shoulder.

 “Where are Vance and Saige?” Neal shouted into his face. “I swear to God I will drill through your penis next if you don’t start speaking.”

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 The fool spit up all over himself as he gasped out for air. “They’re in hiding.”

 “No fucking duh!” I snapped, wiping the corners of my mouth. “I want to know where they’re hiding. I have people burning your crops, bombing your labs, and killing your brothers. There will be more blood. There will be retribution. It can end with your bosses, or it can end with your whole family. Choose carefully, there are many more of you, and we have a lot of drills.”

 Handing me a glass of brandy, Antonio walked past me and held up another drill to the man’s belly button.

 “Where are Vance and Saige?” Neal asked one last time.

 All eyes in the room were on him. “I swear to God—”

 “God doesn’t come to this part of the house, so swear to me,” I told him, leaning back in my chair.

 “I swear . . .”

 “Kill him.” He was wasting words and didn’t know anything.

 Drowning out his screams, I closed my eyes and took in the hum of the drills. They, for some reason, relaxed me. But sadly, it ended all too soon.

 Antonio checked his pulse, then turned to me splattered in the man’s blood. “He’s gone, sir.”

 I sighed. “When I said kill him, I meant do it slowly.”

 It just went to show if you wanted someone killed right, you had to do it yourself. Declan handed me a file, I looked through it quickly before rising.

 “What number is he?”

 “He’s the seventh we’ve lost during questioning. Weak-ass bitches,” Declan answered, opening the door for me.

 Frowning, I nodded. “Find me more. I want them all dead. I want Vance, Saige, and all the damn Valero to know I’m coming for them.”

 As I left, they dragged the fool’s body away. Neal’s forte was not torture, and neither was Declan’s really. That had always been left to my father and me. We were good at it, and in a sick, fucked up way, we enjoyed it. But after what happened, something changed within them both. Neal was fueled by the rage of knowing what could have become of his wife. Declan had lost Coraline in a way. Gone was the shopaholic woman who never seemed to understand the world around her, and in her place was a murderer. She had gone through that and still didn’t want to speak with him. He took her punches, and then unleashed it on whichever poor fuck came against us. But I understood. Walking through the construction site that was now my home, I knew what would await me when I opened the door to my room.

 Coraline looked at me shaking her head in sadness before leaving. Taking off my shirt, I threw it next to the clothes Adriana had laid out for Selena. None of them seemed to have been touched since this morning.

 Kneeling next to her, I brushed back her hair. “Have you eaten?”

 She said nothing. She didn’t even look at me. Five days of this and I feared it was just the beginning.

 “Adriana, I need food. Anything Selena would like, now.” I snapped the phone shut before sitting on the floor in front of her.

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 At least she’s breathing. That was the only comfort I had. Flipping through the file in my hand, I just started reading, I didn’t want her to feel like I was cutting her out, or that I didn’t need her. Because I did, I needed her badly.

 “Declan and Monte have been trying to get through the Valeros’ firewalls. Their system isn’t as strong as ours, so instead they created a freakin’ hundred different firewalls. They can hack it, but it will take time. Right now they haven’t had any luck. They are working through the eleventh firewall now.” I waited to see if she would say anything but again, there was nothing.

 “So far we’ve spoken to seven Valero members, and they have all said the same thing. Vance and his family have gone into hiding like some fecking caffler. The two bit arsewipe took his manky whores . . .” I paused for a moment and groaned. “I’m so pissed off I’m sounding like my grandfather on St. Patrick’s Day.”

 SELENA

 He made me smile. I didn’t know if he could see it, but he made me smile. I did wonder why he tensed just slightly when mentioning his grandfather.

 “Anyway,” he said without less of an accent. “They’re in hiding. We have all their bank accounts being monitored. The moment we break through the firewalls, we will drain them dry. For now, if any of them withdraw even a penny, we’ll know about it. We’ve already burned all their known crops on both hemispheres and bombed twenty-nine meth labs. If there are more, we will find them. They aren’t getting away from us. They have no other choice but to die.”

 He stood up when Adriana came in with a bowl of something. I couldn’t really hear what they were saying, and I didn’t care. I wanted to go back to sleep, but my body wouldn’t let me.

 “Love,” he whispered above me, but I didn’t reply.

 Sighing, he lifted me up with ease and placed me on his lap, as if I were some chi . . . child.

 “Love, eat. It’s just soup,” he said as he started rubbing his thumb against my bottom lip. “Selena, love, I’m begging you. Open your mouth, or I will force it open.”

 I listened and he looked disappointed, like he wanted me to fight him. But I was tired. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. The only way I could do that was to listen and allow him to feed me, one spoonful at a time.

 DAY 9

 “It’s morning, Selena,” Olivia said as she opened my curtains so wide the sun blinded me. I didn’t want the sun. It was too happy. Too full of joy and life, it didn’t know when not to shine. It should know that it was a dark day. It should know not to come my way. I wanted the moon. I wanted the night. I wanted the darkness.

 But I was too tired to yell at her. Instead, I simply rolled away from the sun.

 “You know I was jealous of you,” Olivia said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m still kind of jealous. I’m always jealous. I don’t try to be. It comes from having divorced parents I guess. You’re always fighting for attention, and they’re always giving it to you because they feel guilty. But with you it was a different type of jealously.”

 Go away Olivia, I thought but didn’t speak.

 So she went on. “When I first heard that Justin was getting married, I was kind of hoping she, you, would be like Coraline, the old Coraline, willing to let me have the spotlight and come to me for advice. I think I wanted to be Evelyn in away. I wanted to be the heart of the family. But you weren’t like Coraline, or even Evelyn. You were a mafia boss. You, a female, ruled the Italian mafia. When Neal first told me, I thought he was joking. It should have been impossible. No way would any man, true mafia gangster bow down to a woman, and yet there you were. And the men were bowing so low they were almost kissing your white shoes. Do you know that’s a thing on Twitter?”

 Please go away Olivia, I thought to myself once again, and again I failed to say it out loud. So she went on . . . again.

[brokenhardies]

OC-Lub Halloween Event Part One

So I’m taking part in this event! All of these are gonna be doing some drabbles because I’ve done a lot of edits lately. Here’s the first one;

1st - 11th October

Movies vs Music vs Snacks

Pick one of the above with a Halloween / horror association, and make a piece featuring your OC mashed up with it. Inspired by song lyrics? In the world of a movie? In an outfit matching the candy? Interpret however you like.

TAGLIST

@seize-the-droid @anotherunreadblog@ocfairygodmother @randomfandoming1 @myocmultiverse @foxesandmagic @vivis-ghost-wife

CANDY - A Leia x Maggie Halloween Drabble

xxx

“Trick or Treat!”

5 year old Leia Gould smiled up at the house, holding a basket towards the door as it opened. Her blonde hair was tied up into two high, coiled buns that appeared similar to cinnamon buns, and she was wearing a long white dress that reached just below her knees. Beneath the dress were a pair of tall, white boots. 

The person who opened the door cooed at the young girl, tossing a candy bar into the already full basket. Leia smiled, curtseyed with a ‘thank you’, and ran back to see her father and his friend talking, while Maggie excitedly bounded over. Maggie was 6 years old and dressed in a rather cheap ‘cat’ costume, black onesie, painted on whiskers and nose and an ear headband that was falling off her head.

“Wha’ did you get?” Maggie asked.

Leia showed her bag with a giggle. “Some Tootsie Rolls, Butterfingers, 3 Musketeers…” She gave Maggie a devious smirk, “You wanna share?”

Maggie sighed and looked at her Dad. Leia was only five but even then she noticed that he was exhausted. 

“Daddy?” She asked, to which he responded with a reluctant nod. Leia grinned and handed Maggie one of her bars. Maggie ripped off the plastic casing and stuck into it, humming sweetly as the taste went down her tongue. 

Likewise, Leia did the same, the sweet candy taste was so inviting. She was pretty sure she would regret it the next day if she ate too many, but she didn’t care. It was delicious, and the greatest part of the night.

xxx

11 years later;

Leia sat on the couch in her house, adjusting the Princess Leia costume that she had made this year. She really wasn’t sure if she wanted to ever go back to that again, but she figured it was basically a Halloween tradition at this point.

“Hey Mags, you ready?” She called to the bathroom, as a familiar thump thump thump of feet came down the stairs. Leia’s eyes widened as she sniggered. It appeared both women had the same idea. 

Maggie’s outfit was more ornate than the one from eleven years ago, a short black tutu style dress with a corset, tail sticking out of the back and a pair of bobby pinned cat ears attached to the side of her hair, which she had tied up into pigtails. She still had the somewhat cheaply applied whiskers and nose makeup, but she had also put on some cat like eyeliner to match the outfit. Leia chuckled as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s waist.

“So…” Maggie grinned, “What did you get?”

“Oh, only the sweetest candy ever…” Leia chuckled

“Can I have a taste?” 

In response to this, Leia sighed and nodded. Maggie’s expression was joyful, happy, cheerful. A lot had changed in eleven years, but the one thing that didn’t was how sweet this ‘candy’ tasted. In this case, it was the pair locking lips, letting the feel of their lip gloss absorb into each other. 

It was delicious. And the greatest part of the night. 

[rockpapertoast]

The Point

Mama told me not to swallow the pit of my cherry or else a big ol’ tree would grow right inside my belly. She told me that the deep red color made my lips look like Gran’s and that they were beautiful. I picked up the tiny fruits, one at a time, pulling off the green stems and piling them on the wooden steps. Mama sat in front of me so I watched her do it first. I ripped mine apart, turning my fingers pink and wet. I could see the little pit peeking through right in the middle. I ripped it out with my teeth, gnawing off all the little pieces that stuck to it, and spat it right in front of me as hard as I could. It hurt my mouth. She slowly turned back and looked at me with her big brown eyes and a smile. “Mama gonna getcha!” She growled at me as she squeezed me on either side. She tickled me red juice dribbles.

It was our first full day at The Point and we came in so late that we didn’t have time to get groceries, so cherries were all we had. There was a stick of butter left in the refrigerator, along with some squished old Wonderbread and a can of Krunzhmann’s Smoked Ham. Pop had probably left them. 

The Point was my great grandpa’s house when he was a little boy. His family grew up, all together, in this tiny house with one bedroom and one other room that held the furniture and kitchen stuff. No one can stay in the winter anymore because there’s no heat and the snow here gets really cold and deep, so Pop opens it in May for the summer months and me and Mama always come here to work after my school gets done. Mama works. I work more like part- time. The place is full of dust and old pictures- it gave me the creepies when I was little, especially after Dad stopped coming with us. He met a woman named Sherry and they have two girls together now, Shiva and Lillia. They sound like puppy names to me. Shiva would bark more. I see him once a month for strawberry milkshakes and a hug. He knows I like the cherry on top and extra whipped cream, so he gives me his. 

I remember Dad telling me stories about the pictures of Pop and his old friends. They are covered in dust and rusted-golden picture frames with warped glass covering the black and white figures. I would sit on his lap at night before bed and he would bump me up and down on his knee, telling me how many places Pops had traveled, how the blueberries that grow here are magic, and how the biggest fish in the entire world lived in the lake right outside. “He looks out for you when you’re out there swimmin’ like a big girl,” he’d say, “you can’t go out past the McDermott’s place or else he’ll come nibble on those toes!” I liked my Dad a whole lot even before the milkshakes.

After we finished our cherries, I sat on the back porch and tried to tie two stems together in my mouth. I always heard that was a sexy type of thing to be able to do, but I could never imagine how someone’s tongue could be capable of such a thing. Mine wasn’t. The back of my throat felt like it was tearing apart and the stems tickled the side of my tongue. Ripples of waves slowly moved towards the shore, just a few feet away from our deck. I could hear my tummy gurgling over the faint sound of the bird clock chirping inside, but I held it tight with both hands. I bet there were a hundred Bluegills out there in the lake just swimming around looking for breakfast, too. I don’t think they can eat cherries, or the pits. 

Mama and I left at five after nine to walk to town. The hills seemed much bigger than last summer. They were extra turny and the morning wasn’t fully gone yet so the clouds were stuck all around us, hanging on with all their might. Mama tells me that at night the clouds come in real close to hug us and keep us warm, just like a blanket. I don’t know if I believe her but I like the idea of extra blankets at night. I always get cold.  

“What kinda tree is this, Magpie?” Mama asked me as she let go of my hand and walked towards a dark green furry kind a few feet away from the road.

“How in the heck should I know that? It’s a green one, Suza, that’s what kind it is. A fuzzy green one that is not awake yet so he would appreciate it if you’d stop touchin’ him, thank ya very much!” I told her right back. She gets mad when I’m sassy to her but she woke up with big eyes this morning. That’s usually a good sign. 

“Miss Magapoo! You little devil, sassin’ your Mama first thing in the mornin’. Should’a left ya in Chapin!” Mama picked off a piece of the green fur tree and brought it back to me, sticking it right up to my nose. It smelled sweet, like most of the air up here. 

“Peeyeew!” I shouted at her. She knew I was joking and she laughed right back at me.

“Hemlock, Miss Magpie. He’s got some wide needles, round ends,” Mama said as she bent down next to me, holding up the needles to my face real close, “and if you flip ‘em over, you see he’s got two kinda white lines here.” 

“Hemlock. Hemmmlock!” I said, making up a song to help me remember. Mama always asks me about trees and I can’t remember them all. There’s so many up here so I try to make ‘em into songs or memories somehow. Like the Oak- I fell off of it smack dab on my bum when I was four and cried so hard I threw up all over myself. Mama wouldn’t dare let me forget that one. We don’t have the same kinda trees in South Carolina, so it’s hard to keep ‘em separate. 

We got to Tawny’s Market and I picked out the pink lemonade. I like the kind that looks like a jar because who doesn’t love the smack sound it makes when you yank off the top? I asked Mama if we could get summer sausage and she said we’d have some at Pop’s later. I always peel off the skin around it, the slimy clear stuff gives me the spooks, but the inside is nice and salty. We checked out and I helped put our food into the totes that Mama had brought with us. We ran into Tawny on our way out. She’s one hard lady to track down on a Saturday morning. 

Tawny had long brown hair that came almost all the way down to her butt and was tucked into one fat braid that swished side to side on her back as she walked. She saw us walking towards the bakery and opened her mouth wide, giving us big eyes and spreading out her arms. She jetted towards us full- speed. She smushed me with her fanny pack as she hugged me all kinds of tight and kissed my forehead. 

“Welcome back, so glad to see ya, Mags! Come down and visit anytime. We’re makin’ zucchini bread tomorrow if you wanna come help out while your Mama’s at work!” She was always real nice to me every summer and I usually came to visit about once a week when I got bored of Tommy Joe. She and Mama hugged and talked for a few minutes while I sat on the wooden bench right next to the bulletin board full of advertisements for lawn care, dog walkers and babysitters. I never understood who would just pick up somebody’s information at a market like that, but a lot of the flyers had been torn off where the tags stuck out. 

I wanted to ask for a jelly doughnut but I knew Mama would say no. Tawny used fresh raspberry jelly that was just the right amount of sweet and tart. Whenever I would disappear for an hour or so and come back home with a bag of sweets before dinner, Mama wouldn’t even get mad that my tummy was already filled up. She liked treats, too.  Tawny is TJ’s Mom and one of Mama’s best girls up here. They grill together sometimes and drink cocktails with booze in ‘em when me and TJ play sticks in the woods, or things like that. Tommy Joe is my best friend or something. I guess he’s my best friend when we’re in New London, so for three months of sunshine. It’s the same starting over every year. 

Mama has been working at the Toy Museum down the street ever since I can remember. Great Grandpa started collecting old antique cars and gadgets when he was a swinger and he kept ‘em all there. It’s made up of a few big garages jam- packed with old cars, creepy toys with painted faces, and a whole lot of spiderwebs. Uncle Don runs it now, since he lives here full- time, and helps Pop, who can’t do all that much heavy stuff anymore. Uncle Don is Mama’s older brother. His wife died of cancer two summers ago and ever since then, he only smiles with his eyes. He’s got one great big wrinkle that fits right across his forehead when he makes smile- eyes, but that’s all. Aunt Jill died of the same kinda cancer that took my Gran. Something happened to their lady parts. Uncle Don used to have real nice dimples on his cheeks, but they’ve been lost for a long time now. Auntie Jill had been sick ever since I was four, so I don’t remember her without a quilt on her lap and pink hat keeping her smooth little peach-head nice and warm. Her head was darn well near the softest thing I’d ever felt. 

TJ’s family lives three driveways down from The Point and his grandparents are friends with Pop. They used to own most of the North parts around the lake and Pop owned the South ones. Mount Kearsarge was the divider, smackdab across from our deck, way up in the distance. You can see the big hump of the mountain behind the clouds if you look at the right time. Our back wooden deck points right at the mountain, like an arrow, and the whole lake sweeps down and gouges into the land on either side of us. It’s like we get the best seats of all and the mountain points right back at us. 

After we got home and started unpacking our groceries, Mama said I could go find TJ to play before lunch. I laced up my new white keds that I’d gotten two weeks ago since my last tennis shoes were destroyed in the giant mud pocket that I found near my school three weeks before we’d left. I went into the bathroom and put sunscreen on my face since my nose always turns pink when I don’t wear protection in the sunshine. Tawny told Mama that it was supposed to be hot today, and she always knew the weather here exactly right. I smeared Coppertone right on my cheeks and nose while standing on my tippy toes and looking in the mirror. I could only see a few white and blue stripes of my shirt, since I wasn’t tall enough. This was my favorite shirt, with a stain on the bottom right from a cherry pit that got away. 

I grabbed my bike and started pedaling through the gravel to Tommy Joe’s. My face was still kinda sticky so I felt little smacks against my cheeks when I flew through the clouds of gnats. It was wide open around the house before the driveway took me into the woods for a while, leading out to the main road that I took to TJ’s. It had rained a few days ago so the sand- filled gravel was thicker, like gum was stuck to the bottom of my tires. I was out of breath as soon as I turned the corner to TJ’s house. 

The difference between the Point and TJ’s house is that they live there all the time, and we only live here for a few months. His house is dark green and about the same size as the Point. It’s just TJ and his Mom so they don’t need much room.

“Hey Tommy Joe! It’s me, I’m back here for ya!” I shouted as I dropped my bike next to his front porch and ran up the steps. The screen door was open and I knocked real hard on the chipped white painted part of the door. “It’s me- Maggie Smith! I’m back here for TJ!” I didn’t hear anything so I walked in and saw TJ on the couch playing some video game. It was beeping and speaking in video game words that I couldn’t much understand. 

“You could’ve answered the door,” I said to him.

“Hi Mag. Sorry, I’m finishing this,” He called back at me. His voice was deeper than I remembered and his nose looked bigger. His lips were pink and his skin was the same caramel that I remembered. I felt my chest get tight and roped up, as I stared at him shaking his Nintendo back and forth as he forcefully pressed the keyboard, like someone threw a rock and tickled it at the same time. My mouth got all wet and melted.

“I can come back later, It’s okay” I said to him, turning around and walking out towards the door again. 

“No, Maggie Smith, you come back here. Give me five seconds, I just need to finish level four with King Archibald,” he said to me as he ran up to me and grabbed my arm, pulling me back to sit on the couch next to him. He smelled salty and looked kind of sticky. I wondered if he’d put on sunscreen this morning, too.  

“That feels nice,” he said to me as I followed my finger along the side of his hair down by his ear. 

“Your head got bigger, Tom. How can you be so stupid and still have such a big noggin?”  

I looked over his shoulder for a few minutes as his little video game soldier fired away at dragons, crawled up stone walls and eventually found King Archibald. 

“Finished!” He said, “Wanna swim to the bank and look for frogs? I haven’t found any yet since it’s been kind of cold here.” 

“Sure- I don’t have my swimsuit here, though,” I told him. I usually wear it under my clothes, but I didn’t think we’d be swimming right away. And I don’t like how it feels on my bum when I bike.

“Here- just take this off,” TJ pulled at my shirt, so I slowly peeled it off to reveal my white camisole. It was too big for me, so it hung around. “Are you wearing underwear?” 

“Yeah I am, yuck- why wouldn’t I?” I hadn’t worn underwear all day yesterday. It felt nice to have a breeze. 

“Come on!” TJ said as he ran out of the living room letting the screen door slam right in my face. I grabbed a green and purple splotchy beach towel that hung on the coat hook and followed behind him, holding it tightly against my chest. 

He ran all the way to the dock and started taking off his shirt and his shorts. By the time I’d made it standing next to him he was bare chested. He was wearing whitey tighties that sat right on his hips. I never really knew the difference between boxer briefs and shorts, but apparently there is one. I saw the bulge between his legs and thought about what it would be like to touch it. I never understood how those things just fit all neatly right in there without popping out on accident. Like they just fold up when they’re supposed to. I think TJ saw me staring at him because he started fidgeting. I could feel my face getting hotter and I looked down at the rippling waves.

“Take off your shorts, come on,” He said as he kicked his pile of clothes and walked towards the edge of the dock. TJ dunked his foot into the water, sending a shiver through his body. He looked like he’d been electrocuted from the foot upwards. “Jesus Christ! Come here Mag!” He shouted at me, holding his crotch and pattering on his feet, one at a time like he had to pee really badly. 

I unzipped my shorts, tossed them right on top of Tommy Joe’s pile of clothes, and scooted up to grab his hand. 

“On the count of three. One, two, three- come on!” Shouted TJ as he fired himself forward, bringing me along into the greenish water. We sprung a few feet from the dock and both came up for air. 

“Woooo! This is way too cold!” I yelled, with my lips quivering. I could feel my goosebumps coming out and kicked my feet extra hard in the water. 

“Here, I’ll race you to Gull rock, it’ll get us warm!” Gull rock was the big boulder a few hundred feet away that had perfectly carved holes in it for us to climb out of so we could go searching for frogs in the marsh along the shore over there. We had to climb through a pile of rocks if we didn’t take Gull. I started throwing my arms, one after another, turning my head as fast as I could. TJ and I collided and I scratched his leg with my fingernail. “Sorry!” I said, but water was coming in and out of my mouth so fast that I’m not sure he heard a word I said. 

When we made it over there, TJ climbed out first, adjusting his boxers so they didn’t collapse on him. He reached down and stuck out his arm to help pull me up. The rock was slimy and my toes scrambled to find the right holes to push myself up on. My face felt hot and the sun toasted us as we bent down, crawling around in thick grass and muck to find creatures. We always found these tiny little green frogs with brown splotches on them and fat double chins. 

“Find any?” TJ hollered at me after a few minutes of silence. It was always a competition with us and whoever found the first one usually won, no matter how many more they found after that. My feet were making squaking squish sounds as I suctioned them out of the muck, like I had to fight to get them back even though they were mine. 

TJ spurted forward towards a shrub and dove into with his arms in front of him like he was ready to grab something. “Holy Jesus, look at this! Yeeehaaa!” He screamed as he clasped his hands real tight together. “Comere Maggie!” 

I teetered my way over to him, trying to keep from falling face first into the mucky grass. “Let’s see ‘em” I said, planting my two feet hard. TJ slowly brought his hands towards my face and moved his thumb down just a tad to show two big eyes and a beating chin. It’s mouth was sort of orange looking and it had two little lines that marked what should’ve been it’s nose, but i’m not too sure frogs have noses anyways. He was a real cute one. I stuck my fingers into TJ’s and touched his slimy back, it was slimy and just the right amount of bumpy. 

“Let’s take him back with us. I wanna keep him, look how cute he is- what a nice lil’ guy,” TJ said looking around, “Should we make him a raft or something? Can he swim?”

“He’s a frog, Tom, he can swim better than you!” 

“Shut your trap, Maggie Smith, let’s go. Here, you take him.”

I reached out my hands, cupping them just enough to take him without poking at him too much, and walked back to the rock. TJ jumped in first and I slid my way down, skidding my bum on the rock. 

The water felt much warmer now. I floated on my back, holding our new friend cupped snug in my hands while I kicked breaststroke. I learned how to do that in swim lessons- I’d been taking them ever since I was about four. TJ was probably swimming fast again but I didn’t mind. I was happy to be back here. The clouds were moving real speedy, and they looked extra puffy. I always wondered if they felt like Marshmallow Creme to touch. That’s how I imagined them. 

I kept kicking, looking back every few seconds to make sure I wasn’t going the wrong way or something. I was close to the dock and I saw TJ standing their waiting, his feet dangling along the surface of the water. 

“Almost there! Here, take ‘em,” I said to him, turning towards him and coming up straight. I reached my hands up and plopped him into TJ’s, climbing back up the ladder onto the deck next to him. I brushed the droplets of water off my face and shook my hair really fast. 

“Maggie. Look.” TJ’s voice turned higher, like the boy I’d known for the past nine years. I looked over into his hand- cage and got mine ready to catch the leaping frog as it came out. He lifted up his hands to show a lump of a frog, no leaps, no beating chin. 

“What happened?” I asked TJ

“I think he’s sleeping. He’s just tired from the swim is all, Mag.”

I swallowed hard and felt the sun all the way in my throat. I couldn’t look at it again so I told TJ to put him to bed somewhere else. TJ said okay and ran him back into the woods near his house while I stayed on the dock. He put the frog down by a tree and scattered some leaves on top of him. I sat down on the deck and wondered when he started falling asleep, I couldn’t feel it in my hands or anything. I knew that asleep meant dead, and so did Tommy Joe, but neither of us wanted to say it. TJ came back over and sat down next to me for a few minutes, but neither of us had anything to say. 

When I stood up, I wrung the water out of my camisole, sending it dripping out onto the deck. TJ’s face froze and he wiggled his lower lip like he was trying to fight with it. 

“Maggie? Are you okay?” TJ asked, looking down at my legs. I looked down, too, and saw a few red dribbles down my leg. 

“Is that from the frog?” I asked TJ

“Um, not unless you hurt him”

I knew that Gran and Aunt Jill had died because of problems with their lady insides and I hoped I would never have that stuff. 

“I’m dying, Tom,” I said quietly.

“Do you want to take a nap? Maybe you’re tired, too” He said.

TJ brought me out a blanket and a pillow from his bed. We layed on the deck and he traced his finger along my forehead. He was right, it did feel nice. If this was the way that I was going to go, it couldn’t be too bad. 

“Tell Mama sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner with Pop tonight. Bring me some summer sausage on Sunday mornings instead of flowers, just make sure to take the outside part off.” 

I’m coming, Gran, I’m coming Aunt Jilly, I thought as I closed my eyes tight. I could feel freckles growing on my cheeks and nose from the sun. Maybe i’d start to look like that frog, with splotches and orangey red all over my face. 

[morganbelarus]

Woody Allens Wife Defends Him Against Molestation Allegations & Claims Mia Farrow Abused Her! – Perez Hilton

Woody Allen’s wife Soon-Yi Previn has allegations of her own, and she’s saved them for this very occasion.

The 47-year-old defended her husband against those rejuvenated abuse allegations in an interview with New York Magazine on Sunday, and she’s claiming she was abused as well — by Allen’s ex-wife/her adoptive mother, Mia Farrow.

Related: Woody Thinks He’s The Unsung Hero Of #MeToo

She told the publication about Farrow, who adopted her from Korea when she was six:

“I was never interested in writing a Mommie Dearest, getting even with Mia — none of that.”

But here we are, nearly a year after Allen’s adoptive daughter Dylan Farrow reminded the media about the molestation allegations she made against the filmmaker decades ago, prompting stars and studios alike to distance themselves from him.

The way Previn sees it, her estranged mother is manipulating the #MeToo movement to get revenge on the Annie Hall director for his relationship with Previn. She claimed the Hannah and Her Sisters actress “paraded Dylan as a victim,” adding:

“And a whole new generation is hearing about [the allegations of abuse] when they shouldn’t… What’s happened to Woody is so upsetting, so unjust.”

Previn was 10 when Allen started dating her mother. She claims she was kicked out of the house at 21 years old after Farrow found nude photos of her that Allen had taken.

Related: Asia Argento Accuser Accused Of Sexual Misconduct

As for her own relationship with Farrow, Previn claims her mother “wasn’t maternal to me from the get-go,” and that she and her adopted siblings were treated like “domestics” and ordered to look after the younger children, clean and purchase groceries.

Previn also claimed the actress abused her over the years, calling her “stupid” and “moronic” and even once threw a porcelain rabbit at her. She added:

“I really can’t come up with a pleasant memory.”

For what it’s worth, NY Mag states that a family spokesperson denied Previn’s memories of physical abuse, neglect or showing favoritism to one child over another.

Dylan responded to the New York Magazine story on Sunday night, re-stating her molestation claims and blasting the author of the article for writing a “one-sided piece attacking the credibility of his victim.”

She tweeted:

My statement on New York Magazine: pic.twitter.com/xml6pdaZqb

— Dylan Farrow (@RealDylanFarrow) September 17, 2018

Dylan’s brother Ronan Farrow also condemned NY Mag for the “hit job” against his mother, riding the publication for refusing to “include eyewitness testimony that would contradict falsehoods in this piece.” He shared:

Statement on New York magazine, which has done something shameful here: pic.twitter.com/xGeQP341OG

— Ronan Farrow (@RonanFarrow) September 17, 2018

Speaking of Ronan, Woody also spoke up in Previn’s interview, saying he’s not 100% sure the journalist is his son. He shared:

“In my opinion, he’s my child. I think he is, but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. I paid child support for him for his whole childhood, and I don’t think that’s very fair if he’s not mine.”

Expect to hear more about Woody following this piece!

[Image via Joe Alvarez/WENN]

Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

=> *********************************************** Read Full Article Here: Woody Allens Wife Defends Him Against Molestation Allegations & Claims Mia Farrow Abused Her! – Perez Hilton ************************************ =>

Woody Allens Wife Defends Him Against Molestation Allegations & Claims Mia Farrow Abused Her! – Perez Hilton was originally posted by 16 MP Just news

[eene-fangirl]

Darkness [An Original Fiction]

NOTE: For anyone who reads this can you please give my feedback. This is my long story project for one of my classes at school. Warning: Reference of Rape.

The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter the basement was going to get colder.

    Maggie was upstairs in the warm part of the house. That thought made Clara feel better to an extent, but she was up there with him.

    Clara coughed again.

    Blood.

    That wasn’t a good sign.

She’d get up to make herself tea, but her hip was so bad that she could barely sit without pain searing through her leg.

This was her seventh Christmas here. She was never given any gifts, only the hope that her daughter would stay warm upstairs. Clara was hopeful that she’d one day see the light that hadn’t touched her skin in years.

Her head felt so congested today. Clara hadn’t moved from her spot in the rocking chair for two days. Pee ran down from her legs having no energy to go up and use the useless manufactured toilet. It was clogged up once more. She’d have to take care of it. The only job he had was to get her the supplies she needed.

Her daughter was laughing upstairs. They’d always chase one another around the house. When Clara was five her Dad would be chasing her all around the yard. And that’s when she developed her love for flowers, when she sniffed every one of the beautiful plants in the garden.

If only Clara knew what was really going on. In another month Maggie would be six years old. To Clara’s fear, Maggie was favoring the man more, believing it to be a punishment whenever she had to come see her mother.

The basement smelled of decay. It was always so dark; nobody was ever allowed to put on a light. The neighbors would grow suspicious if they always saw a light peaking through the little window far above her. Once, Maggie accidentally turned it on when Clara was asleep. If it weren’t for Maggie being present the man would have done something vile to her.

The waste basket was filling to the brim with bloody tissues.

The whole house grew silent when the doorbell to the house rang for the first time since she had arrived seven years ago.

Clara walked down the spring neighborhood, taking in the fresh breeze and flowers coming up from the ground. In under two months she’d graduate from high school and be starting her own life. She’d be studying about plants, one of her favorite subjects since she was five.

But her stomach had butterflies, remembering that she was moving far away from home to live at college. She had no idea if she could live on her own. There were so many responsibilities. That was what she was hesitant about. The idea of taking a year off felt like the best option for her, but she had already made a commitment. She couldn’t let her family or friends down. Clara expressed her excitement so much because she was hiding her fear.

“Miss! Miss!”

Clara stopped in her tracks and turned around.

It was the man who lived in the blue house and had the big open porch. She remembered seeing him a couple times, but she and her family never exchanged words with him. The man was the only neighbor on the block who she had never gotten to know. Nobody knew him very well, in fact.

“My wife is in labor!”

Clara’s mind began running, but her feet stood in place. He was always sitting on his deck alone.

She quickly looked him over once more, seeing his hair was a tad gray but he still looked young. He had on a flannel shirt and thick jeans.

“Can you help me carry her to my car? Please, she could have it any second!”

Clara started walking back the way she came. There was a long driveway, but no sign of a car. His eyes were fearful. They looked just like her own.

“Where is she?” Her voice sounded like a child. It had never sounded like that before. Clara always made sure her voice sounded firm and as if she knew what she was doing.

“She’s in the house. We were in the basement when she felt the baby coming. The car is through another door, but I can’t lift her.” He told her this while taking hold of her arm as soon as she was close enough.

Clara snagged her arm away. He turned back looking desperate.

“I could call an ambulance.”

“Please! I want my baby born in the hospital where it is safe! Wouldn’t you want that?”

Tears were falling from his eyes.

Clara followed him into his house where the drapes were all closed. If she weren’t thinking about the mother in labor, she would have noticed the smell of beer that had spilled numerous times on the floor. There weren’t any pictures of a family present anywhere.

They were down in the basement before Clara came to realize what was really going on. After finding it strange that she didn’t hear a woman’s voice groaning, Clara knew that she had fallen into a trap. The man closed the door and locked it behind him.

He then removed his belt.

“Hello, officers, may I help you?” The man’s voice sounded nervous. A first.

This was the most alert Clara had been in so long. She listened to hear an authoritative voice speak that the neighbors had come in possession of a strange note.

Yes, yes, Maggie did hand it to the neighbor!

The man questioned what he was referring to. She hadn’t heard any movement around the house. They were obviously still in the doorway leading to the outside world. There was nobody who ever stopped at the house after all these years. During nights when Clara was first here she could hear the sirens and people calling out her name on the streets. They never suspected a man who lived alone and occasionally greeted others who walked by on the streets.

“Your next door neighbor, Mrs. Adelby, claimed that your daughter gave hers a note. Do you recognize this?” It was a woman’s voice.

‘C.L. Help.’ That’s all she could write. The man gave her daughter little pads to draw in. Her book was filled up so much that she could only tear off a small little blank piece. The message was the right length to cause alarm and to send help.

The man was struggling, trying to think up a story behind this. It was strange how he was so good at lying. Why did he become a bumbling mess around police officers?

“Do you mind if we take a look around?”

They were never going to find her. Clara was hidden so well. All doors in the house were covered with art projects. And Maggie wasn’t going to say anything. The man made Clara a big secret. Maggie was still not old enough to ask why, but she believed him. He filled her head with so many ridiculous stories. It was she who should have been filling her head with stories, not lies.

With every ounce of strength Clara heaved herself up from her chair, but immediately fell to the concrete floor when the pain in her hip became too immense to stand.

Clara was shivering so hard that breath was coming out in big puffs of smoke.

Christmas was a day away.

Her stomach was swollen with a human being inside.

Next month her little child would arrive. Her child. His child. Her child would never belong to him.

Her tea kettle was smoking on the little stove. The man tried to make her comfortable with a couch like bed, a chair, a radio, a tiny kitchen that barely cooked anything. The walls were brick, making it feel more like a prison. There were no rugs, just a cold floor that went right through her thin socks.

The cellar door was locked. There was no other way of escape.

Clara was left alone in darkness with thoughts clouding her mind. Her name would come up every now and then on the radio. Her family was looking for her. She was down here in a basement with a baby coming. She was not prepared to be a mother. The man had no plan of setting her free. He loved the feel of company.

She looked up at her only source of light coming from the little window. It was barely big enough to squeeze through with the size of her stomach, but it was worth a try.

Clara built anything she could find into a step ladder. The miniature table, the chair she sat in. Reaching as high as she could Clara’s fingers touched the window.

The window lifted open, but the chair fell off the side of the table and Clara smashed onto her hip.

The tea kettle had already been whistling. The man sprinted down the staircase. He was nice enough to lift her up and place her on the couch.

Clara whimpered for a doctor as he was touching her stomach.

“Is our baby okay?”

Clara slapped his hand away. “My baby is not yours.”

“Is that so? Don’t you forget where you got it.”

She begged so many times for the man to let her go. During their first encounter he told Clara how lonely he was. Never knew his mom, barely knew his biological father, and then was in the care of an uncle who’d been separated from the family for years. He wanted love, but he had no idea what is was.

Clara was left alone in the basement. She didn’t want to think about the holiday. On the small radio that came in and out she could just make out her name. They were still looking for her. Her parents wanted her home. She would have been home after her first semester of college. Clara remembered how she had been terrified of college.

“Is this your daughter, sir?” Clara heard the man police officer ask.

“Yes. Maggie.”

“Accounts have specified that they never saw a woman living here.”

Clara couldn’t move her legs. She had hit her head upon the impact of hitting the floor. Her only hope was Maggie. Maggie should have understood that this life was not normal. How other kids always played on the streets while she could go no further than the backyard. And how her supposed father treated her mom.

“My wife lived here for a short time, until we separated.”

She heard them ask if they could talk to his daughter. The little girl hadn’t said anything upon the police showing up. Quite rare, thought Clara, considering the girl never stopped talking. She’d talk about anything that was on her mind. Maggie must have found it strange that there were other people in the house.

“Sweetie, is this your father?”

Clara didn’t hear Maggie say anything. She must have nodded. Where was the man standing? Was he standing behind the police trying to get her to say what the police wanted to hear?

“Do you go to school?”

“School?” she said as if she had never heard this word before.

“Um… Maggie wasn’t ready for school yet,” the man butted in.

The questions went on from asking how old Maggie was, to if she had any friends her own age, and if she knew where her mother was.

“Daddy said she’s not alive.”

No sound escaped from Clara’s mouth, just wheezing. Her mouth tasted like blood, and she choked on it. Whatever sound she could form had to be made. Anything to get the police to open the door and find a woman who was hardly one hundred pounds in a basement made out to look like a home.

Clara grabbed her cane which stood an arm's length away. Footsteps sounded overhead.

“Mommy, why do you limp when you walk?” her daughter asked.

Clara practically fell into her chair when she came to sit at the little table. It was already covered in dust from when she cleaned it a few hours ago.

“I had an accident.”

“Is that why Daddy keeps you downstairs? So you’d be safe from the world?”

Clara stared into her tea swirling around in the cup. “Yes.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around herself. She looked at the staircase, at the door. She was so fascinated whenever she went upstairs. When the weather became warmer they spent their days reading, drawing, or imagining together. They’d even listen to the radio, but Maggie paid no attention.

If Clara ever talked about who the man really was and why she was really here he threatened to kill her.

“Is Daddy coming soon?” Maggie asked. She put her coloring pencil down.

“I don’t know.”

Maggie looked at her drawing, back at Clara, and then to the stairs. She looked into Clara’s eyes. Her eyes had guilt written in them.

“Mama?”

“Yes?”

“If you listened to Daddy, you wouldn't have to stay down here all the time in this stinky basement.”

How Clara agreed with that. She knew the man talked about her behind her back filling Maggie’s head with any story to make her understand why Clara couldn’t come out from the basement.

“Can’t I stay upstairs with Daddy?”

Clara looked at her little girl. They spent the most time together.

“Maggie, that is cruel.”

“Sorry.”

“Maggie, I wish I could give you a better life. I don’t like that I have to live in the basement.”

Maggie looked at her as if she spoke a different language. “You’re not allowed to talk like that!”

Just then the door opened and the man walked into the basement. Maggie was so excited to see him that she ran to him and he picked her up into his arms. Clara watched the scene, glaring into the man’s eyes. Her daughter never greeted her like that.

The man told Maggie to go ahead upstairs. The mouth of the door stood wide open. And the man knew it was. Clara was weak.

He was staring down at her. Clara wouldn’t look at him.

“Filling her head with nonsense again?”

Clara faced him. “Why are you doing this? Why me?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Out of all the people living in this neighborhood? Why me?”

“Everyone else had someone.”

“What do you mean? I had a family! I had friends! I was going to college. I was going to have my own life.”

“How come you walked alone passed my house that day?”

The anger vanished from Clara’s face. She’d always walk to school with a friend, but her head had been clouded with so many worries that she’d forgotten to contact her best friend to walk to school. That was the only time she was ever one her own. Clara hated that feeling. But, she was never alone. She didn’t let people in when she was scared for her future. She made herself look as if she could take care of the whole world because she was so positive and on top of life.

“I was never mentally alone.” Clara said to him.

They stared at one another for the longest time

Clara looked away. The man placed a wooden object in front of her. It was a cane.

“Maggie said you had trouble walking.”

He went back upstairs leaving her in the darkness. She stared at the most kind gesture she received in the longest time. It was something she was in need of.

Clara was still on cold concrete ground trying to do anything to get back up on her feet. She felt so dizzy, but this was no time to pass out. Her heart was beating rapidly, almost too fast. She was struggling to move, but the sickness weakened her.

The man was talking in a stuttered voice trying to make the authoritative figures leave the house.

Clara was slowly crawling along the ground. She dragged the cane with her until she was able to reach the stairs.

There was no way she could make her way up. From where she was it looked as if it would take a year to get up the stairs.

Her mouth opened, but the smallest noise came out.

The footsteps were no longer moving around. There were low voices talking to the man. They were still here, but they were ready to leave.

It was time to stop playing herself as weak. For seven years somebody had been telling her what to do and how to live her life. That was her daughter upstairs. For years the darkness swarmed around her becoming an enemy keeping her hidden in its claws.

Clara whacked her cane against the pipes which were lined up against the walls.

This whack was for having her life being taken away.

Another whack for pregnating her and having to lie to her own daughter.

And another for taking the life she could have had away.

Clara made every possible noise she could even finding noise to escape her mouth. After years of the basement being silent, noise filled all around.

It was a blur with what happened next, but a woman was leaning over her. Clara was light headed, but could hear screaming upstairs along with Maggie saying that her mother was not allowed to leave the basement.

Clara was taken out on a stretcher where her pale skin was hit by the sun. Her eyes were filled with the bright light. There was a crowd of familiar faces. The neighborhood hadn’t changed. It still looked the same, but everything had changed. The last time she walked down this street Clara had no idea who she was or where her life was going. After years of thinking and seeing what she could do Clara was stronger and knew she had the power to do anything.

“Mommy, are we safe?” Maggie asked her when they were in the ambulance.

“We are now, Maggie.” Clara said holding her daughter close to her.