#i got dressed! i took care of myself ! i should ve able ! to do things!!!! why am i so broken!!!!!!

[patheticwretch]

i have so much work to get done and so many messages to reply to and so much cleaning thats building up and no money and i want to dissipate into the wind

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing I

A/N: This is you and your ex, (Detective) Harry, winding up in each other’s lives again after a traumatic event in your life. I’ve had this idea in my notes app for like a year, and I just decided to go for it this week! It’s a little all over the place as I set it up but I think the next part will go a lot better if you can stick with it (and I appreciate you if you can <3).

Warnings: Violence (guns), PTSD?

Part 1 / (.5) / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

------------------------------------------

I had booked Thursday and Friday off in advance. I made sure my e-mails were forwarded, my clients were told I wouldn't be in, and any internal matters were allocated to my assistant. It was going to be a relaxing long weekend where I could have a homemade meal for once and watch Netflix all day. I was my branch’s youngest director and even though it was a fulfilling job, I hadn't had a day off since I got the position four months ago.

This was probably why, at 9am, I get a call from my assistant. One of our bigger clients was refusing to discuss his loan terms with anyone and wanted to speak to me directly.

"Tell him I'm not in Adam, you shouldn't even be calling me-I have the bloody day off."

"Yess but he said he's coming in at 10 and if you're not here he's switching banks for his personal and business accounts." Adam stuttered. “If you lose this client H-”

"Jesus," I look at my outfit and the time-I barely had any time to make it to the bank; it took me 40 minutes just to get to work. "I'll be there-distract him if I'm late. Oh! Ask about his daughter's new private school!"

I rush to my room and apply minimal makeup, pull back my y/h/c hair and throw on my black cigarette pants and a blazer. I'm halfway down the lift when I realise I was still in my t-shirt. "Shite," I mutter. I button the blazer and put my scarf around my neck so it's covered. That was decent enough for my day off.

I arrive breathless and sweaty 5 minutes early to the bank despite the cool weather. Might have seemed like a win if that wasn’t when everything went downhill. Just as I walk up to the side door, waving at Adam who was walking out to greet me, a crash from the entrance startles me.

"Hands up!” A loud voice booms from behind me. “Don't touch a fucking thing!" I turn, seeing Adam’s shocked expression, just in time to be shoved to the floor by four people dressed all in black, and wearing celebrity masks. In all my time working here, I’d never been part of a bank heist and some part of me is frozen, mind blank. I wasn’t even supposed to be here!

"I said to put your hands up!" The one with a Brad Pitt face points the gun around the room as people scramble for cover. I inch backwards to the counter as I watch them manhandle the customers and pull our bankers to the floor. I release a breath, trying to snap out of the shock I seemed to be in. The base of a column digs into my back and I focus on that to ground myself, scanning each robber, and where my employees were. Adam has his hands on his head, the closest one to me. I try to catch his eye to reassure him but he’s squeezing them tight. I didn’t blame him, Brad Pitt stands over him menacingly. I look to the customers, they weren’t trying to be smart--that was good. I’d watched enough TV to know that was never a smart move.

Just as I think that, from the corner of my eye, I catch Cole, one of our guards reach for his gun. A loud shot echoes through the small space and I swivel my head trying to see what's happened while making sure everyone was okay. The thief wearing a Kanye West mask, manning the front entrance of the bank, had shot Cole in the arm and he was bleeding all over the floor. My first instinct is to help him but I'm yanked back down before I make it a step.

"We’re not missing the next person who moves a muscle. I want you all to drop your phones in the middle! No. Fucking. Funny business." The thief who shot Cole points his gun to all of us and it takes all of me to not hyperventilate. I hear a few people crying but I don't dare look. Instead, I watch on as David Beckham drags Cole to the side and ties his hands behind him. I can see by the wincing that they didn’t care whether they twisted his arms too hard. This wasn’t a petty robbery, they were hardcore.

"Who has the passcode to the vault?" Brad Pitt asks as one of his friends goes around zip tying everybody's hands behind them. When nobody answers he shoves the gun in Adam’s face and I let out a sob. What did we do to deserve this?

"Me," I choke out. “Don’t hurt him, I have the passcode. I know it.”

"You?" The man asks. "You better not be lying bitch or you'll be joining your friend there."

I nod as he pulls me up by the arm and uses my scarf to tie my hands. I try to stay calm, the only way I could get through this before the police arrived was to keep my calm. Everything in me is screaming to do something--fight, scream, swear, cry, but I keep my mouth shut and follow Brad Pitt and the joker to the back. I'm led at gunpoint to the vault and they untie me so I can put in the code and my thumbprint. The one in a Joker mask presses her gun into my back and I know the least of my worries was a bruise but that was the only thing I could focus on.

She shoves me forward when I pause, hovering my finger over the finger pad, in the distance I hear sirens. Please let us all be okay, I pray.

"Don’t be a fucking hero, let’s go!" The female behind me yells in my ear and I rush to press my thumb.

As soon as I finish the procedure, I feel an explosion like fireworks against the side of my head and everything goes dark.

H POV:

I walked into the station around 10, just having come back from a nearby escalated domestic call. It wasn’t the craziest thing I’ve ever been involved in at 10am on a Thursday morning.

"Harry, there seems to be some sort of commotion near Holborn, the director wants you in his office." Serena, the receptionist tells me gravely. I don’t even consider the street, assuming it would be another criminal to go after. But when I go into the office, we get the rundown: there was a robbery happening at the HSBC. That’s when I understand the gravity of the situation.

"We’ve sent a few men right now, they seemed to be armed so proceed with caution." He warns. I had been on the force for over four years; I moved rank fast and knew how to handle myself so the warning was mostly for the junior constables. But my heart thuds violently in my chest when I think about the possibility...no. I had to focus. But I can’t help but try her cell on our way to the scene. When it continues to ring, my thoughts go to the worse place possible. I know I hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year, like she wanted, but if anything happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

When we arrive at the scene, the thieves are still inside. I make sure nobody makes any moves, following protocol, and trying to gauge the exact situation inside. But before I could give orders, a man holding up his zip-tied hands shuffles out of the building. I notice the terror on his face and the fact that he's not armed.

"Down!" I say. The restless energy building up inside of me makes every move feel frantic.

"They left out the back! They left!" The man's shaky voice reaches our ears. I gesture a few of the officers to head around back and radio in the update.

"Get his statement, be sensitive,” I snap at the closest officer before I take a few of my officers indoors. The scene inside only reminds me why I do what I do, there's glass on the floor, phones in a pile and bullets littering the floor. Everyone looks shocked, people are crying, and a man in the corner is bleeding profusely.I scan all their faces but I don’t see her. I pray that she might have taken the day off today or something, even though I knew she rarely every did. Where was she?

"Medical," I order. I face the crowd, "You're all alright, If everyone can slowly get up and follow Officer McGregor out, we'll see that your belongings are returned to you and collect statements later. You’re all alright now."

"Sir," a bloke off to the side steps forward from the group getting up. "Our manager was taken to the back...we're not sure how she is, she hasn't come out...”

I reassure the crowd she should be fine. I didn't want them to see me panic, not to mention if we had any casualty the press outside were going to bombard this crowd with insensitive questions and I really wanted to keep this on the low. I was considered young for a DCI and any screw up meant I took it twice as hard. And I didn’t know if I could behave normally if I didn’t find her in any way except breathing. I put on my brave face.

I get an officer to stand by and venture cautiously into the back, spotting an open vault. I hurry into the area when I spot her, laying motionless on the floor.

“Y/N,” I rush forward, skidding on my knees to check on her. “Pleasepleaseplease.” I put my fingers to her pulse and nearly shout in relief. She was alive! I send a thanks out into the universe, to whoever was watching over her. “Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”

Her eyes flutter under her lids. I turn her gently onto her back, she was wearing a Green Day t-shirt under a smart jacket and trousers--that was unlike her. She always dressed very smart. I gently remove her short strands off her face to reveal a nasty bruise on the side of her head. I try to stifle my heartbeat; it scared me seeing her like this. I’m about to call my officer but her long lashes flutter and suddenly she's looking at me, dazed.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" I inquire. She blinks, and then again, her eyebrows drawn together as she stares at me. I try again, “Y/N, answer me please! Are you alright?”

"I...do I...bloody look alright? Where did they go?" She snaps out of her daze and tries to sit up but her hand goes to her head which must be throbbing. I place a hand on her back so she doesn't fall back down.

"Oh thank god,” I sigh in relief, she could talk. She was alright. “Th-they’'ve managed to escape. We'll deal with that. You were knocked unconscious so we should get you checked-”

"Those bastards," she snarls. I bite back a chuckle as I help her up. She pushes me away as soon as she's on her feet. "I wasn't even supposed to bloody be here today you know that? It was my day off and....Jesus.” She clutches her forehead. “How's everyone else? Chris? Adam?"

"Everyone is fine, your guard’s being taken to hospital. Everyone else is untouched, we need to have you checked out though." I am mesmerized, as always, by her ability to talk about ten things at once.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s my case, I guess,” I tell her, expecting the question. She scowls. “I’ll have to ask you some questions later, but Y/N we need to have your head checked.”

“I’m sure you’d like that,” she mumbles.

“You’re proving by the second that you’re quite alright but we’ve got to get you to a medic anyway,” I gesture forward so she can walk ahead of me. I didn’t want her falling or anything. The constable at the door watches her walk out and eyes me warily.

"She need her statement taken chief?"

"I'll take her down to the station myself--she's hurt." I dismiss the officer and follow Y/N out. I wanted to keep an eye on her right now. “Can I help you walk?”

“My legs are working fine,” she snarls whilst clutching her forehead.

Your POV:

I could not believe today's turn of events. I was supposed to have a relaxing day off but instead, I’m rushed to work so I could be held up by thieves, forced to help them rob my branch, only to be mildly concussed. And the person on the case is none other than my ex-husband Harry Styles.

The only thing going for me is that I don't cry easily (or i would be a sniffling mess right now). And Harry was the last person I wanted to cry in front of although he’s seen me at much worse. I push aside those memories, ignoring his lingering eyes and try to walk ahead of him.

I cover up my shaking hands by stuffing them under the blanket I'm wrapped in when Harry leads me to the ambulance. He stays to the side while the medic goes through a questionnaire and informs me on what I need to know about being mildly concussed. All I could think about is the feeling of a gun pressed to the small of back, the chill of it through fabric. 

"Miss?" The medic asks.

"Sorry, I got it. Yes. Thank you."

"I asked how you got here?" The medic begins to look concerned. Shit. I did not want more attention.

"I...meant I got what you were saying. Sorry, I rode the tube in."

"Great. You can ride with me to the station," Harry says from the side. I avoid his gaze but I have to agree. There was no way I was taking the tube during a time like this. I had a concussion.

So I'm sat in the back whilst Harry drives with his partner. I catch Harry glancing in the rear-view more often than he should and when we make eye contact, he gives me a reassuring smile. But sitting in the back of the car, I feel like the metal tip of a gun still keeps my spine straight. My lungs feel like they're not expanding large enough for air and I clutch the seatbelt strapping me in. I try to name all the countries I could remember--a coping technique I’d used since I was a kid to try and distract myself.

"You alright miss?" The other officer sounds concerned.

"Yeah," I choke out. "Just a little stuffy back here."

"Oh ‘m sorry," Harry opens the back window and I greedily gulp the fresh air coming in. My panic subsides and I settle back into the seat.

*

"And that's all you remember?" Harry sits on the desk chair next to me even though his own seat remains empty behind the desk.

"Exactly as I've told you, like, 20 times Harry."

It was now two hours later; I'd sat waiting for an hour before receiving my phone only to find multiple calls from the bank’s higher-ups. After dealing with them, I had to wait another half hour before finally being interviewed. I proceeded to drink two cups of bad coffee while giving every detail of what I remember, their masks, and so on. Every time I said something that could help, Harry would backtrack and I would explain it three different ways. It was frustrating and the repetition kicked my anxiety up so that I was on the edge of a breakdown. I grip the arms of the chair and respond to Harry. "Listen, alright, why would I not be telling you the full story? Of course that's all I bloody remember! It's not like I had an out-of-body experience and I saw them leave through the back door.”

"I'm sorry Y/N, it's just routine." Harry keeps a straight face on.  "We have a few suspicions we're trying to corroborate by interviewing everyone involved. I promise I’m just being thorough-"

"Yeah yeah alright, you sound like you're reading from a bloody manual," I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh into the silence. When Harry doesn't say anything, I look up to see him watching me with an amused expression.

"What?" I ask, annoyed.

"It’s been a while...I forgot how charming you can be.”

“What can I say, you bring it out in me.”

"Very interesting outfit by the way," he takes my snark in stride, gesturing to my outfit with his pen instead. I cross my arms in front of me. He's still got the stupid expression on his face, it looks unchanged from the one he used to give me once upon a time. When he found something I did funny but in a loveable way; the feelings that surface are almost unbearable.

"Don’t judge my outfit, I had to rush to work for our client meet-oh shit." I pull out my phone and check my email but there's nothing from the client. Probably avoiding the shit show. I notice the time, with all the time I’d wasted today I may as well not have taken the day off at all.

"So you weren't meant to be at work today except for this client? Bad timing isn’t it." Harry reads to himself from his notes. I stare at him, wishing I could burn a hole into his skull to see if he really had a brain in there.

"I've told you this five times before, Harry. You're literally reading from your notes. If you're just going to ask the same questions over and over I’m sure you can find the answers in there and I can go home."

"Right but something doesn't add up, I just want to make sure I have all the details."

"Do I have to be here to watch you do your mental maths?" I wasn't very nice when anxiety and frustration became my base emotions. But Harry knew that.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised at my snark. "I'm sure that you want to get to the bottom of this just as much as I do-"

"But that's not my job," I remind him. "That's yours. I've done mine, and I'd really just like to go home." My voice cracks, and I feel a rush of embarrassment.

"How about I drop you off home? I can walk through the day with you once more during the drive?”

He looks at me expectantly, “I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”

"Best not to with the concussion,” Harry pushes my buttons, and I’m kind of surprised. The last time we saw each other he’d been accommodating to my anger but he was pushing back today. Like he used to when we were together when he riled me up simply because he found it amusing.

When I scowl though, he gets serious. “Y/N, just let me give you a ride home and we can talk more.”

I didn’t want to stand around arguing, I was tired, so I just agree. He smiles, his dimples making a pretty appearance. Damn him.

H POV:

I’m surprised she agrees to ride home with me. I knew Y/N had a stubborn streak and giving in to my offer was new. She’d made it clear last time we saw each other that she wanted nothing to do with me. I was also curious to know where she lived, I’d only been to her office once since we’d split. And that was usually to drop off papers.

She actually answers my questions on the drive, albeit they’re one word answers, but she gives me space to talk out some theories I had. But she also disagrees with most of them, pointing out their flaws. The comfortable back-and-forth between us is bittersweet. This was why we were married once upon a time. We worked well together; after all, we’d been friends for years before dating the other. It was the friendship I missed the most when I thought about us.

When we drive up to her address, it’s a townhome in a decent part of the city. Her promotion clearly had its perks.

I leap out of the car to open her door before she could but she beats me to it, scowling at me as she realises what I was trying to do.

“So you live here?” I try to ease into a conversation, get her to open up, ask her how she was doing. But she looks at me like I’d asked a stupid question, waving her keys.

“You’re kind of dense for a detective,” she says when I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“Forget I asked,” getting personal was useless.

“Done.” She always manages to get the last word. She climbs her steps but I follow her up. She eyes me as she finds the correct one on her key ring. “What?”

“I just-have you got anyone living with you?”

“What’s that got to do with the case?” She asks, her defenses going up.

“You’re concussed, it’s best you have someone with you for the next 24 hours like the med-”

“I’ll be fine Harry,” her sharp edges soften but still, she only opens her door wide enough to step through. I can barely see anything behind her except for a hall.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I try again.

“Nice of you to care,” the way she says it implies a deeper meaning, one that borders on a dangerous topic.

“I’m serious Y/N, this--a concussion’s no joke. And it was traumatic what you went through you really shouldn’t-”

“I’ve been on my own for a while now, I’ll be okay.” There she goes having the last word again. I raise my hands and back off.

“If you say so. I’ll...head back to the station but if you need anything, well, you know how to reach me.”

She nods, closing the door softly behind her. I sigh, it was a whirlwind last few hours but I was just grateful Y/N was going to be okay. I know she hated me, but I still cared about her. It was hard not to. We’d known each other for over a decade, and even though I hurt her in our past, and she might not agree with me, I cared. Caring about her didn’t have an on/off switch. I only wanted her to be okay. Maybe even happy.

Y POV:

I go through the motions for the rest of the afternoon, mostly I sit zoned out in front of the window while the morning plays like a loop in my head. Something about having your life hang in the balance of a stranger’s pointer finger made it feel so fragile. It unraveled me, and I can’t focus on anything. I just keep feeling the gun on my back, and smashing against the side of my head.

I keep my head iced, and avoid screens except to send out a couple emails and to call my sister after 8 voice messages that progresses from panic after hearing the news to annoyance as I don’t respond. When she finds out Harry’s on the case she swears.

“That bastard,” I can see her face in my mind, the one where she pursues her lips like mum used to. “You should report him, conflict of interest right? It’s traumatic enough what you’ve been through, you poor thing. I was just talking to Lewis and he said I should come down to stay with you this weekend-”

“That’s really alright,” I nip the idea in the bud. I loved my sister dearly but she was an overly anxious person and I don’t think that would be helpful for me right now. “It’s just a mild concussion, the medic said I should be cleared after 24 hours so it would only be a hassle for you to come down here.”

“Alright,” she says grudgingly. “But you say the word and I’m on the first train out. And I’ll give that ex of yours an earful if he’s anywhere near you again.”

I smile at my sister’s overprotective nature, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage that fine on my own.”

“That you can,” she laughs.

But when I put down the phone, the silence creeps in again. And normally I loved the quiet but like a broken record player, the voices and sounds from this morning continue to play in a loop in the silence.

I give up after 7 and start preparing for bed. But a call interrupts my nightly routine.

“Y/N,” it’s Harry. “It’s me, Harry.”

“I do have call display,” I say dryly.

“Right, I...wasn’t expecting you to pick up.”

“Is this about the case?” I was hoping he was calling to say the bastards were caught.

“Oh...not exactly. I was wondering if you’ve fed yourself. I’m in your area for work, it’s my last call. I thought I could bring you some takeout or...?”

“I was about to get ready for bed.” I reply.

“Oh. That’s early? Have you had dinner?”

I think about the pathetic cheese toast I’d managed to make. My stomach growls thinking about food, I didn’t seem to have an appetite until he’s said something. “Fine, only if you’re in my area.”

Surely, not even 10 minutes go by and by doorbell rings. Harry stands outside with a takeout bag, his pressed shirt from this morning is more rumpled with a few buttons undone.

“I parked on the street--is that alright?”

“I guess? You’re just here to drop this off.” I shrug.

“Actually I uh, I thought I’d keep you some company.”

“I...” I don’t know if I should be offended. “I don’t need company. I only agreed to the takeout.”

“I’m part of the package,” he hides the bag behind him, a smug smile on his face. I roll my eyes, it was too late to do this with him.

So I leave the door open and head inside, tightening my robe around me. Harry was part of my past and having him here, in the place I’d built myself back again, feels wrong. This was where I’d shed the identity of being a divorcee before 30, and here he was. When I turn to see why he was so quiet, I find him scanning my gallery wall and smiling at the pictures.

“Hey, I’m on here,” he points to a small group picture.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I walk back to him to get the food. “I just looked good there.”

It was a shot from my sister’s wedding, Harry and I with the newlyweds. It was taken a few weeks before we’d made us official actually--moving from friends to lovers was maybe one of the bigger mistake I’d made in life. Another was agreeing to marry him.

“I look pretty good too,” he leans in closer. I ignore him and take the cartons of Chinese out and grab cutlery. He joins me, I hand him a beer and take a sparkling water for myself. “How’ve you been feeling?”

“Okay,” I shrug. “Just sorting through it all. Trying to avoid screens, all that.”

“That’s good,” he steals a chicken from the container I’m dumping into my plate. I eye him but he just grins, chewed food between his cheeks. I let it slide. “So you’re not supposed to sleep with a concussion or something?”

I sigh, “That’s not true, I only have a mild concussion!”

“Well I’m not a bloody doctor!”

“Thank god for that.”

“You’ll never stop doing that will you?” He rubs his chopsticks together and attempts to eat with him. “Always so snarky.”

“I can’t help it,” I continue to watch him fail with his chopsticks and pick up a fork. “It sustains me.”

“You should try being nice for once.”

“Tried it once, didn’t work out well for me. So...here I am.”

I was being passive, I knew that. He knew that with the way he eyes me over his food. He keeps quiet though, knowing there was nothing he could say in this moment to make a difference. We eat in silence until he receives a call and he leaves to take it. I clean up so by the time he gets back I’ve just loaded the dishwasher.

“I know the sleep thing’s not true for you,” Harry says as he approaches. “But I think I should stay here overnight. Just to make sure you’re-”

“No,” I cross my arms. “There’s no reason for you to stay the night Harry. I don’t need you here.”

“It’s for your peace of mind-”

“It’s for your peace of mind Harry. And frankly, I don’t care about your peace of mind. I don’t want you sleeping over, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“Y/N, c’mon! It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we didn’t sleep in the same bed for years--I’ll be sleeping on the couch! You’re not in your best shape and it’s just for a night, it’ll be like I’m not even here.”

“Don’t you have a girlfriend or something to go home to?” I ask. He shifts his gaze and shakes his head.

“Nope, my bachelor pad just me. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning.”

I dry my hands and watch him, he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew him well enough to recognise the wide stance, shoulders back, and jut of his chin. He wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t want to hear you, Not even a peep. I’ll make up the couch but this is the one and only time you’re wearing me down, you’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue-”

“Promise,” he holds his hand up to his chest, a grin on his face knowing he won.

I leave him with a comfortable setup and head up to my own room. There was a spare upstairs but I don’t think I could handle him sleeping next door to me. It was weird how in just one day I’d seen more of him than I had in the last couple years and now he was sleeping in my living room like we were okay. Not like he wasn’t the man who’d broken my trust, and my heart.

As I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep as the day replays in my head, another set of memories infiltrates my mind and keeps me from sleeping. The story of Harry and I, the naive beginning, eventful middle, and heartbreaking end. My mind repeats its history and I don’t fall asleep for hours. When sleep finally comes, my dreams are haunted by the same memories.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 27 March 1832: SH:7/ML/E/15/0045

8 ¾

12 ¼

- Let[ter] fr[om] L[ad]y Gordon (Garnestone Hereford 24th  inst[ant]) - 3 p[ages] - fine morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 62° at 10 in my r[oo]m and 60° at 10 20/: in the blac[on]y - L[ad]y G- [Gordon] h[a]s settl[e]d h[e]r Spanish affairs b[u]t yet hopes to see Sp[ai]n ag[ai]n one of these days - Cosmo to ha[ve] a 5th. share as partner and she tho’ having nothing to receive for eight years has nothing to pay - L[ad]y G- [Gordon] wr[ite]s in good sp[iri]ts - chol[er]a is in Paris, b[u]t this will n[o]t prev[en]t her go[in]g there - we are to settle our plans ‘seat[e]d und[e]r the large tree on the top of the hill in the jardin des Plantes’ ‘and God willing we will see some curious scenes together before we die’ - all in the mind to agree and half sorry at being at all hampered with Miss H- [Hobart]  br[eak]f[a]st at 10 20/: Mr. Wooll ca[me] to measure my b[oo]ks for a box to pack them in and L[ad]y Anne Scott call[e]d ab[ou]t 12 1/2 for ab[ou]t 20 min[ute]s - till then Miss [Hobart] and I had got into talking she not liking my so thorough change reminded her of what she had said last Sunday week   I could understand her marrying but in no other case could I relish her fancy fancying anyone more than myself if there was any change of our ever living together   it seems she has ssome thought she may marry we got on very well till I made some unlucky remark on this subject and she was in tears and I sorry till we w[e]nt out a lit[tle] bef[ore] 1 for an h[ou]r - (Miss H- [Hobart] and I) w[e]nt to Woolls, saunt[ere]d a lit[tle] in the Lond[on] r[oa]d and in front of the Croft and there she took courage to be conciliatory to say she liked me very much and in substance that if she did

SH:7/ML/E/15/0046

not always ssay what I liked  she was afraid to say too soon what might be repented of  afterwards   perhaps that was unkind   no not at all said I understand you your reason is i[n]telligible and I am satisfied  she was pleased to see me take it so well and suffice it to say we became good friends and afterwards went on comfortably and I said I should write differently to Lady G- [Gordon]  from what I had intended and merely say we would settle all in  London I see Miss H- [Hobart] thinks me too old for her I said ten years   but the fact is she likes me or at least does not like the idea of my too easily slipping thro’ her fingers   I become calmer and calmer  resolved and more and more able to look to my own interest   providence orders all things wisely  I will wait patiently the event doing the best I can for myself   but let me keep my heart  aloof and give it less hastily in time to come   I will be rather more liant to Miss H- [Hobart] but after all she has cured me more than perhaps she wished or intended -

asleep in my r[oo]m fr[om] 3 to 4 -

then in 35 min[ute]s wr[ote] the ab[ov]e of today - at 4 20/: turn[e]d to my let[ter] to M- [Mariana] 2 p[ages] writ[ten] on Sun[day] and

near[l]y 1 writ[ten] yest[erday] morn[in]g - do n[o]t like h[e]r to th[in]k my health so m[u]ch the worse for

Hast[in]gs - ‘you are right - I sh[oul] be bet[ter] for 2 or 3 w[ee]ks w[i]th you at Lawt[o]n; b[u]t I can[no]t manage

it now - the bug-bus[ine]ss does really stick terrib[l]y in my throat, in spi[te] of all y[ou]r good reason[in]g

ab[ou]t it - yet ev[e]n if I c[oul]d get it digest[e]d so soon (and y[ou]r infl[uen]ce w[oul]d be all pow[er]ful) still that

w[oul]d n[o]t get rid of the oth[e]r diffic[ultie]s, Shibd[e]n and the carr[ia]ge duty concern - I shall be ver[y] ver[y] sor[ry]

if I do n[o]t see you; b[u]t, at this mom[en]t, I see lit[tle] chance of our manag[in]g an[y]th[in]g like a comf[orta]ble

meet[in]g - the obstac[le]s are fearfully strong on y[ou]r side, and mine too’ - can[no]t get off fr[om] here till the

23[r]d Ap[ril] and shall be oblig[e]d to go to Lond[on] aft[e]r all; for tho’ L[ad]y G- [Gordon] and I ha[ve] been ‘writ[in]g ab[ou]t our

plans; b[u]t it will be decid[edl]y  best to talk them ov[e]r’   I m[u]st be in Lond[on] on the 25th next m[on]th and embark on the 29th

wheth[e]r L[ad]y G- [Gordon] can be ready or n[o]t - determ[ine]d n[o]t to lose the duty

on my carr[ia]ge aft[e]r all the poth[e]r ab[ou]t it - ‘yet the n[o]t see[in]g you will be a gr[ea]t disapp[ointmen]t, a

real afflict[io]n; and the near[e]r the ti[me] co[me]s, the mo[re] I shall feel it, and be irresolute’ - b[u]t hope to

see h[e]r on the oth[e]r side the wat[e]r    ‘It ab[ou]t six m[on]ths s[in]ce I saw you - So[me]how or oth[e]r, I can[no]t

fancy I shall be ver[y] m[u]ch long[e]r bef[ore] I see you ag[ai]n - Mary! I am poth[ere]d ab[ou]t ho[me] concerns, and

can neith[e]r do wh[a]t I wish, or wh[a]t I ought - B[u]t, in the midst of all, the conclud[in]g part of

y[ou]r let[ter] ma[ke]s me laugh - Miss H- [Hobart] ta[ke] up her abode w[i]th me! n[o]t that I kno[w] of or expect -

Do you n[o]t rememb[e]r wh[a]t I ha[ve] alw[a]ys told you? - H[e]r health once reestab[lishe]d, and I count

up[on] her companion[in]g hers[elf] ver[y] diff[erentl]y’ - L[ad]y S- [Stuart] h[a]s been ill - b[u]t is recov[ere]d - is 8 or 9

y[ea]rs young[e]r than my fath[e]r and may ha[ve] sev[era]l comf[orta]ble y[ea]rs to co[me] - can[no]t settle an[y]th[in]g w[i]th

L[ad]y G- [Gordon] in Lond[on] - all this talk[e]d ov[e]r w[i]th M- [Mariana] when I saw h[e]r last, that she kno[w]s up to this

ti[me] as m[u]ch as I do - ‘I cert[ainl]y do wish so[me]th[in]g w[a]s settl[e]d - b[u]t being impat[ien]t does no good; and I

ta[ke] th[in]gs as they co[me], ver[y] quiet[l]y - I th[in]k of noth[in]g as fix[e]d, b[u]t my go[in]g to Paris in the 1

st

inst[an]ce’ - 10 days

quarantine, b[u]t comf[orta]ble temp[orar]y hot[e]ls to perform it in - finish[e]d my let[ter] last 1/3 of p[age] 3.

and long ends and und[e]r the seal sm[all] and close - tell her to ta[ke] care of hers[elf] and wr[ite] me cheer[in]g let[ter]s

I can[no]t bear to th[in]k of n[o]t seeing you ag[ai]n bef[ore] I go - and yet wh[a]t can I do? all my consolat[io]n is, that

all h[a]s been talk[e]d ov[e]r - noth[in]g left unsaid - and if there be an[y]th[in]g new that c[oul]d be add[e]d, perh[aps] it is

that I hope I shall nev[e]r repent the decis[io]n that my a[un]t hers[elf] made, and the break[in]g up our estab[lishemen]t in

Paris - B[u]t this is qui[te] bet[ween] ours[elves]’ ment[ione]d McD-‘s [Macdonald] go[in]g to leave my a[un]t on acc[oun]t of her (McD-‘s [Macdoland])

health - and that they ha[ve] h[a]d the cholera in Paris these 2 m[on]ths - at 5 50/: s[e]nt off my let[ter] to Mrs. Lawt[o]n

Lawt[o]n hall Lawt[o]n Cheshire - wr[ote] 1 p[age] to my a[un]t - dress[e]d - din[ner] at 6 3/4 in 40 min[ute]s - coff[ee] at

8 - won 1 and lost 1 hit at b[a]ckgam[mo]n - fr[om] 9 3/4 in an h[ou]r r[ea]d al[ou]d fr[om] p[age] 101 to 140 ch[apter] 59 vol[ume] xi. Gibb[o]n

ca[me] upst[ai]rs at 11 10/: and to my r[oo]m at 11 1/4 -

very good friends   she asked me to give her a half hoop ruby ring perhaps we shall now go on very well   I have no inclination to teaze her with caresses and ‘tis well -

fine mild day

b[u]t ver[y] lit[tle] sun aft[e]r 11 or 12 in the morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 63° in my r[oo]m at 11 3/4 p.m. and 41° at 12 in

the balc[on]y - L[ad]y Anne Scott s[e]nt us this ev[enin]g to look Withering’s bot[an]y by MacGillivray 1 vol[ume] [octa]vo cloth

pl[a]tes 10/. - seems useful, and easy, and element[ar]y, and suffic[ientl]y portable

[thotfuss]

I kind of agree with the other Annonymous writer, I have both your ex and your feed. She apologizes for the things she did wrong and never says a bad word about you. She fully admits to things. It does feel wrong to keep calling her out as an abuser because she has been getting targeted and crucified because of your words. Is that not just as bad really? Friends and family, of course, will always take your side ALWAYS. You should listen to your heart. I am sure you loved her once.

I’ll be honest, I wrote a really angry stream of consciousness response to this, deleted it, considered not answering this at all, wrote out an actual response, told myself I didn’t owe it to anyone to explain, deleted that, and then wrote it again. Maybe this is my fault for talking about it or referencing it on here, but I never used her url or name, and I never went into detail. I saw it as me using my own blog to express my feelings, which, maybe I shouldn’t have. So I’m sorry if that’s the case. i was never “calling her out,” simply expressing my own feelings on my personal blog, i’m sorry if that was irresponsible. But I am not okay with the messages I’ve been getting lately. This is one of...5 similar ones sitting in my inbox rn? So I am NOT answering this to put my ex on blast or to target and crucify her, and I DON’T owe this explanation to anyone but for my own peace of mind I’m going to explain! (under a read more for abuse tw)

First of all, even if she DID admit to things she did wrong and apologizes for them, it doesn’t make it...not abuse? I seriously doubt she’s getting targeted and crucified, I haven’t posted her URL on here, haven’t even used her NAME, and her family and friends were extremely supportive of her and her actions when all this was happening.

It took me MONTHS to even be able to consider labeling what happened as abuse. Even after my therapist, my family, my friends, EVERYONE who knew about even a FRACTION of what was going on, had said that it was categorically emotional abuse I still felt like i was exaggerating or asking for attention. and to be honest, I still feel like that! 

My ex was insecure. I wrote everything that happened off as her being insecure for SO long, because every time I brought up an issue she would say I “wasn’t supporting her,” and that I should “know how it felt” because of my own issues with mental illness. But when I look back at some of the things that happened-I went to visit my sister back in September, and when I told my ex, she threatened to break up with me if I went. She also threatened to break up with me after my sister gave me a string bracelet she’d made me before leaving for college, because my ex thought that if I put it on, I’d be “replacing her.” I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my family in any capacity unless she was there. I wasn’t allowed to have other friends, I wasn’t even allowed to spend time by myself. She got angry if I spent time on homework, if I went home to do laundry, even if I wanted to sleep. She would say I’d rather sleep than spend time with her, so I was averaging 5 hours of sleep on a GOOD night. she lived about 30 minutes away from me, and I work a lot of night shifts. 

I would often go home before going to her place to change, feed my frog, etc, and she would get FURIOUS over this. She forced me to keep my location services on at all times, despite my telling her that it made me incredibly anxious and paranoid. If she saw me at my parents’ house, my apartment, the store, ANYWHERE without me having told her that I was going there, she would call me until I picked up and explained. 

She forced me to put her fingerprint into my phone so that she could go through my phone whenever she wanted. When I expressed discomfort, I was told both by her and her mother (who genuinely thought everything I’m outlining was an okay way to treat someone, which made it really hard for ME to tell that it wasn’t because I was surrounded on all sides by people telling me the opposite) that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it shouldn’t be an issue. She read through old chats of mine, and got upset about things I’d said to people before I’d even MET her-telling my friends I loved them, etc. She would monitor my social media activity, and if I was active somewhere and hadn’t messaged her back in a few minutes, she would call me repeatedly until I picked up. If I didn’t pick up immediately-If I was in class, at work, asleep, etc, she would later cite that as a reason she couldn’t trust me.  There was one morning where I woke up and she had turned my alarm off, and was on my phone scrolling through my phone calls and asking why I had called a certain number the day before but hadn't called her (I had called my dentist's office to reschedule an appointment.) While I was at work, she texted me calling me a fucking asshole and a cheater, based off of this situation alone.

I’m an art major, and I draw a lot! I like drawing portraits, I’ll sketch people in class, etc, and when she saw that she would accuse me of being in love with the nameless stranger I’d sketched in the coffee shop or something. She told me that the figure drawing class I was taking was “basically cheating,” to the point that I dropped out of it. She would go through my sketchbook constantly, which is something that’s very personal to me and I told her this. She once again cited that if I didn’t have anything to hide, it should be fine. She got angry at me for drawing fictional characters, even guys, which. I’m a lesbian! But she would get jealous and have a meltdown. 

She CONSTANTLY accused me of looking at other girls in public, even though I truly never was. I was driving us home from somewhere once, and looked in my sideview mirror to merge lanes, and she thought I was checking out the girl who was walking by on the sidewalk and blew up at me. Multiple times, she would get upset at me while we were driving somewhere and try to jump out of my moving car over an issue such as the one I just mentioned. 

She would get mad when I wore makeup to class or work, or even dresses or nice clothes. I would tell her that I just LIKED that dress, or that I just enjoyed doing makeup, and she would say I was only doing it to ‘impress other girls.’ On the other hand, she got upset several times when I DIDN’T wear makeup when we went out, because she said I wasn’t making an effort for her. 

She got upset at me when I didn’t finish meals, which she said triggered her own issues. I explained several times that my own anxiety (not food-related, just general) messed with my appetite a LOT, and made it hard for me to eat sometimes. 

She also gets mad when I don't finish my food, and stuff like that. I get that that's because of her eating disorder, obviously, but she still takes it out on me. All of this, when I react defensively or show that I'm hurt by her accusations, she says that i'm not giving her the "reassurance" she needs.

When I brought any of this up, she would have a melt down and cite her insecurities and mental health issues. I have major anxiety and depression issues, I've been hospitalized for it before and go to therapy once a week and am also on a lot of medication for it. When I had depressive episodes, bad days, or anxiety attacks, she would often get mad at me, and said I was sulking, or she said that it must mean I didn’t love her because she didn’t make me happy enough. I usually ended up comforting her over it.

On the anxiety note, I also tend to break out in a rash on my chest and neck when I'm anxious, and I will clarify that this looks NOTHING like hickeys. My neck gets red and blotchy, and I get itchy. when this happens, she LOST it every time without fail, melting down and telling me over and over "stop lying! just tell me who it was who did you do this with," etc, etc.

She told me that if we broke up, she would probably let her own mental health issues get worse, and would stop eating all together. She also flat out LIED about this when I brought it up later, saying that I was the one who had threatened to hurt myself if we broke up. She told me this, and other people this, and made up similar stories, so much that I started to believe it. I was apologizing for my own existence by the end of it, for every word out of my mouth, I was going crazy. I didn’t even REALIZE how bad it was, until I mentioned to my sister that I hadn’t driven the 30 mins over to her house one night due to the bad weather, and she had called me and called me until I picked up, forced me to send her pictures of the roads(?) and then said she’d “rather have someone who would drive on bad roads for her.” This wasn’t even near the worst thing that had happened, but the fact that my sister CRIED over that made me take a step or two back. And I left. Like...a few weeks after that. and it was HARD, it was the hardest thing I”ve EVER had to do, because i GENUINELY thought I was condemning someone to die. Like she fucked me up that bad! I still feel guilty. But I did it! She told me that nobody else would ever love me like her, that nobody would accept my mental health issues, etc, but guess what! I did it! 

And she STILL tried to contact me, refused to leave me alone, showed up at my WORK with a letter and flowers wanting to work it out (and sure she says this was romantic, whatever, but she forced me to unblock her number and hug her and now cites that as me “still feeling the same”) and made like...several different accounts to message me on here after I kept blocking the new ones she made. 

I have NO idea what she’s saying about me, and I don’t care. I want more than anything to move on. I hope she’s happy, I do! I get really, really, angry about it sometimes and I feel horrible for the way her isolating me made me cut off some very important people in my life. I’m still hurting, but i’m HAPPY. I want to move on, I don’t want this to be who I am, it doesn’t define me and I’d love to move on and meet other people and not have this fucking haunting me! And she keeps finding ways to bring it up. I wish her no ill will, and I”m not saying she’s a bad person. I’m not! But I am entitled to my feelings in the matter, I”m allowed to say that it sucked, I’m ALLOWED to say that it was abuse because there are things that happened that I haven’t even told my therapist, because it’s too hard to think about. I’m allowed to move on. Please, please allow me to move on. 

I’m not going to answer anything else about this, maybe I shouldn’t have talked about it in any capacity on here, maybe that’s my fault. But please stop messaging me about it. 

[thehonestmommy]

My Birth Story (Baby #2) - Part 1

2020 brought and withheld a lot of things for everyone across the globe. But for us, quarantined to our home, it brought new life. And as the year winds down, I’m ready to reflect upon the biggest event of the year, Welcoming Galen Angus O’Neill to the world. 

On the morning of September 3rd, I was 4 days overdue and feeing impatient for the arrival of our new baby. I woke around 4 am, and could feel some gentle cramps in my belly. This was not new. Throughout the pregnancy I was fooled over and over again by prodromal labour which I had been enduring for months. I even experienced gallstones during the beginning of my 2nd trimester, so I was no stranger to pains and pangs that lead nowhere. 

I did my best to get back to sleep but to no avail. I laid awake and tried not to pay attention to the feelings. Unable to get back to sleep, I listened to some hypnobirthing meditations for about an hour and a half (which I did often in the early mornings/late nights) and although I didn’t sleep again, I rested and relaxed and practiced my mindful isometric breathing.

At about 5:30 I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the real deal. The pains were not different, but my instinct told me this was it. The slow start to the big show. I shook Ryan awake and said “I think this is it!” to witch he responded “oh..yeah? okay” dismissing what he thought was another false alarm.  But I didn’t feel any doubt this time.

He got up and got ready for work, and reminded me to call him if things get real and he will come home. Our morning went on as usual.

I got up, got myself and my son Lauchlan dressed and took him to daycare. Admittedly, I don’t remember doing this, perhaps because I was distracted, or maybe because I didnt yet realize what was happening during an otherwise normal and mundane morning routine. Whatever the case, I dont remember taking him there….but he spent the day at daycare.

When I returned home I attempted to sleep but again wasn’t able to. Excitement was keeping me awake and alert. I knew rest of any kind was important, made myself breakfast and lounged in bed with the dog (who stayed close with me), while I watched a few movies. A completely chill morning,  but as the morning went on, my cramps were becoming regular, and more noticeable. I began timing them, and although the timing was a little off, I knew this was it. It’s go time!

At 9:00 I texted Ryan:

“Umm….Soon. Contractions are closer together now, about 6-8 mins apart but they are short, only 30 seconds and I can still talk and walk through them.”

He decided to come home as soon as he could, with a brief stop to get get me some gatorade and grapes (both staples in my last birth). 

At 9:30 I texted my Doula to let her know I was quite certain I was in early labour. Of all my birth team, I wanted to call upon her first since she would come to help keep me comfortable if I requested it no mater what stage of labour I was in (Midwives typically wait till signs of active labour). I knew I didn’t need her quite yet so she asked me to keep her posted in case the intensity picks up. 

At 10:30, I paged my midwife: 

Good morning!

I m officially in (at least early) labour. I ve been having surges since 4:15am, and they are getting more intense but are a bit irregular. Most are 40 seconds to a minute long, but are anywhere from 5-9 minutes apart. It’s getting close! (My water did not break and I have no blood or mucus show)

My midwife had a team meeting at noon, so said she could be there by 1pm. That sounded perfect to me, so I laid back down, snacked, sipped water and watched some of my favourite funny moves to help keep my mind distracted; Anchorman (twice!) Step Brothers and Talledaga Nights. (Special shoutout to Will Farrell and John C. Reilly for attending my birth as humour doulas. You boys keep it real)  In the meantime I chatted with my bestie Andrea who agreed to come over and take some photos. Her plan was to come by at 2pm.  Intermittently I listened to some of my hypnobirthing tracks and walked around the house to help gauge how I was feeling. I was still doing okay. 100% comfortable between surges, and still able to talk during them. I used my home-made mala during my surges to remind myself to breathe and relax my face and shoulders (where I hold most of my tension).

Ryan arrived home and got me some grapes and water, making sure I ate and stayed hydrated. He laid next to me and held my hand while the surges came, and reminded me how strong I am, and that we were soon going to meet our newest baby! I was glad to have him at my side, keeping me calm, comfortable, focused, fed and hydrated.

Andrea arrived shortly after and began photographing the goings-on as I laboured in my room. She kept me company and sat on the bed and observed what my contractions looked like while I was cuddled in my bed in my nest of pillows. I was at this time, doing my best to stop talking, turn inward, and breathe slowly as deeply while in a surge, as they were becoming longer and stronger. They would come mid-conversation with Andrea, and I would pause, breathe, and then continue the conversation. I knew trying to talk through them was still possible, but wouldn’t be as beneficial as breathing. 

Soon, My Midwife arrived and confirmed I was absolutely in early labour.  At 2:15 I consented to a cervical check. I was 4cm and 50% effaced, my heart rate and blood pressure were normal, and fetal movement was normal. All green checkmarks. I felt very positive about my progress, and confident that things were progressing well and safely.

As my surges continued to gain strength, I began moving around. Laying in bed was just not feeling right any longer. I followed my instincts and shifted from the bed to the floor. My midwifes assistant offered to squeeze my hips during surges to help relieve them, and it was helping so much. During a surge I leaned on her, I leaned on Ryan, and relaxed on a yoga ball in between. No position was better than the other but changing it up helped keep it fresh. 

Sadly, around this time I heard from my Doula that she was not able to make it. She was attending another birth that was not going well and that mom needed extra support.  I felt like things were going very smoothly for us, so although I was let down, it didn’t send me into a panic. Thankfully she had a backup that was available to attend. Id never met her before, but if my doula recommended her, then I trust that she’s excellent! So she was dispatched to our house.

at 4pm I VERY suddenly began to feel nauseous. Last time that meant I was in transition and the baby was about to come, but i was sure that couldn’t be happening already. My midwife took it as a cue, and offered another cervical check which I would have declined if it weren’t for the nausea. I wanted to know so I consented and found that I was 6cm and 100% effaced.  It was time to get in the birth pool! Ryan realized time was getting close so he stepped out to pick up Lauchlan from Daycare. 

We made our way downstairs and my secondary doula Victoria arrived and introduced herself. She helped me into the pool at 4:30. The water was hot hot hot and so relaxing! I could do nothing but smile as I eased into the water. I could feel all my muscles let go, and like magic my labour picked up. In the first few moments in the pool, observed my surroundings and was filled with an overwhelming joy. I was surrounding by a caring team; my midwives and doula, one of my best friends and my husband and son (who were still on their way back from daycare), safely in my home and during a pandemic no less, when I would otherwise be birthing alone in a hospital. I was so thankful to be experiencing a smooth birth, in the comfort of my own home. The oxytocin wave washed over me, I very soon needed breathing coaching during my surges. They were becoming powerful enough that I needed to make a low guttural hum to stop myself from gasping. I was entering into the primal stage of birth.

Ryan arrived back home with Lauchlan. I wondered what his response would be like, but he was completely adorable and kept me smiling. He didn’t seem phased at all by what was going on. In fact, he was a sweet help; he fed me water and grapes, and gave me kisses over the side of the pool. He was not too pleased however, that he was not allowed to get in it the birth pool with me, but it didn’t stop him from sticking around for the whole show in innocent presence. 

At 5:00 I felt like I needed to pee. Of course, I was in the birth pool. My birth team suggested that if i wanted to stay in the pool I could just pee in there since urine is sterile, but I was 100% not into that! Lord knows how much longer I would be in that water, and the thought just grossed me out. So they helped me out of the tub and I waddled my way through my living room towards the bathroom. I noted to myself how thankful I was that I collected about 20 old towels as I tracked water through my living room (this, by the way, was the only ‘mess’ from the whole birth!) Right at the bathroom door another surge hit and it nearly knocked me off my feet. Thankfully Ryan was there to support me. As soon as it ended, it was like it never happened and I took a moment in the washroom and then quickly went back to the pool. 

Once I was back in the pool, I felt incredibly hot and nauseous. Thankfully I did not throw up (I am emetophobic) but this time I knew that wave of nausea meant I was in transition. My surges were less than a minute apart. I complained of the water being too hot a few times, and we realized it actually was! Ryan began adding cold water to the tub and a cold cloth to my head, neck and back to help cool me down. Things picked up. Ryan started my birth playlist and I found focus again with the music. My doula coached me through the surges and told me I should stop doing the low guttural sounds because I was going to risk losing my voice. She said yell if I need to! It’s time to get primal! During my surges I leaned my forearms and shoulders on the edge of the pool and grasped her index fingers like handle bars.  I felt like I couldn’t go on, like I would perish if I had to endure any more…. And I knew this meant a miracle was about to happen. I knew I could do it and could keep going, bit the feeling of it becoming too much was so strong. I tried to not say it but the words slipped out “I can’t, I can’t do this” and everyone…Ryan my midwives, my doula, my best friend all let out a chorus of “Yes you can. You already are!”  I nodded and kept on.

My next surge at approximately 5:30 my water broke (in the pool). The pressure of it breaking was so strong that It felt like a gunshot in the water. It was so strong that I actually thought for a minute that it was the baby! I was so glad it happened, because I knew it meant the baby was very close. Vitals showed we were both doing well, but there was one issue: meconium in the water. When the water broke, meconium came with it which can be a danger to the baby’s breathing.  My midwife leaned in close and looked me in the eye and said “Sarah, there’s meconium in the water. If you want to have this baby at home, we have to do it now. It’s time to push.”

Pushing was not part of my birth plan. I wanted to let the FER (fetal ejection reflex) take over. But hearing that my home birth was at risk of coming to an end and transferring to a hospital pushed me into a new zone of strength. With the next surge, I pushed as hard as I could. And when it was finished I knew I could do better. The following surge I pushed harder and longer and it brought the babies head down. But something felt wrong… I felt like I was being ripped in half and my hips were being violently pulled apart.  At that moment I flashed back to Lauchlans birth, and how pushing felt so relieving, and I never once felt like it was ‘too much.’ This was different… Like he was coming out sideways. But before my midwife could even check to see what was happening, another surge came and I gave every inch of my life in that final push, and the baby arrived! 5:43 pm September 3rd, 2020. Our quarantine baby, born at home. 

I reached down and lifted my baby out of the water and held my wiggling squishy new baby to my chest. The baby was warm and soft and so alert. The midwives immediately began attending to the baby to make sure all was well, and it was. I leaned the baby back on my forearms and gazed at this beautiful creature.  I observed the baby head to toe, and was taken with how beautiful this child was. And this time (unlike last time) I remembered to check and see what gender we had. It was a boy! I announced it to the room with a slightly disheartened tone because I was SURE it was going to be a girl. I was shocked that my intuition mislead me so much, but I chuckled thinking that ‘Sarah and the boys’ has always been my way of life. Being a boy-mom is my calling. 

I leaned back in the pool and snuggled my new bundle of joy. I spoke gently to him, “hello baby, welcome to the world! I love you already” Ryan asked me “What is his name?” “I’m not sure” I said. We hadn’t decided which of our chosen boy’s names to use. “Alec, or Galen?” I asked “I’m completely okay with both.” “Galen” Ryan said. “Galen Angus O’Neill.”

After some bonding time in the pool, the midwives cut his cord and handed Galen to Ryan for some skin-to-skin snuggles. They helped me out of the water and on to the couch where my vitals were taken and my midwives reminded me that we needed to deliver the placenta (oh, right! it’s not over!)  I relaxed and observed Ryan with our second son in his arms for the first time. He snuggled him and remarked that his mouth was open and looking for food! Once the placenta was delivered and I was stitched from a very mild 1st degree tear, he placed our boy back on my chest where he latched and nursed without any struggle at all. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

After some time with me, he was laid on some blankets on our coffee table and his APGAR test began. Amusing to likely only us, Ryan asked “does he have a bum hole?” and thankfully he did, and pooped right away to prove it!  He passed everything on the test… a healthy boy! We were ultimately blessed. 

We each made guesses at his weight and were shocked to find he was a whopping 9 pounds! Much bigger than I expected!

The rest of my evening was mostly a blur of happy comments and realizing how short my active labour had been… just 1.5 hours! Incredible! the entire labour was about 13.5 hours, roughly the same as my previous labour with Lauchlan (but the active stage was WAY faster with Galen!)

My doula had fed me toasted english muffins and gatorade while I lounged with the baby. Shortly after she helped me upstairs to shower, and tucked me in bed with the baby. I remarked again how incredible home birthing can be, and how lucky I was to do it.

Andrea’s husband Nate came to pick her up and popped in to say hello and congratulations, and brought me a hamburger which I straight up devoured! The midwives took care of cleaning up and put our linens in the laundry while Ryan emptied the pool. Our house swiftly went back to normal and it was as if nothing happened. The only evidence was the new life in my arms.  So strange that the miracle of life had happened in my living room just hours before. 

Even though I would consider this a successful and beautiful birth, it still took me some time to process it. I Think it’s normal to need to put some distance between you and an even so life altering in oder to see it clearly. I can say now, 3.5 months later, that it was a wholly positive birth experience and I am overjoyed that I was able to successfully birth at home. I would do it again in a heartbeat (although I don’t plan on it!!) and I can’t think of anything that I would change. I am so grateful that this happened for us, especially knowing that not everyone is this lucky. A true blessing of an uneventful birth.

Home births, when safe, are such a gift to the whole family. After the birth I was able to enjoy my baby without him being whisked away for test or baths. My husband and son and friend were able to be by my side to witness the miracle. I was able to labour in comfort, privacy, and with dignity and autonomy, able to make decisions that fit my needs. I was able to shower in my own bathroom, sleep in my own bed, and maintain my chosen level of privacy. I ate my own chosen foods, Wear my comfiest PJs. I was in complete control of the environment. and best of all, I was able to snuggle with my baby and toddler to my hearts content, with no one to interrupt me.

The following week was much of the same. Lounging at home in comfort with intermittent home-visits from the midwives to check on our progress. But one week in, our little paradise got turned upside down and we headed off to CHEO once again. But that is a story for part 2.

Special thanks to Andrea for photographing and witnessing the birth of our baby boy. You did a beautiful job and i’m so glad I got to share the experience with you! xo

[absolute-maniac]

Katherine

Hello tumblr! I am a bit nervous about this, but for the first time ever I am going to publish a short story of my own. I would really like to hear your opinions on it. So here it comes, I hope you like it!

I had just graduated from high school when it happened, something I had no control over, and which would come to change and control my life forever. No one had warned me of what was going to happen, not even my mom who knew about everything.

For almost nineteen years I had lived in a little town named Ulvsborg together with my family which consisted of my mom, my stepfather and my half-sister. I had never met my real dad and mom refused to talk about him. My little sister Caroline wasn’t even aware of the fact that we didn’t have the same father.

It had barely passed a week after I graduated high school when the changes begun. My body started making sudden and very noticeable changes at av vary rapid speed. My hair and nails started growing impossibly fast, my appetite quadrupled, small wounds I got healed in no time and for every passing day I grew much stronger and faster.

My mom observed the changes with an almost unnerving calmness to her but still she refused to explain what was happening to me. All she did was to repeatedly tell me that it was nothing to worry about and mom wasn’t someone to be contradicted when she said something.

 It was an unusually warm and dry summer for being the middle of June in Sweden, so I had made a new habit of go running late in the evening when the air had cooled down quite a bit compared to during the day. The full moon lit up the sky so well, I could see every single detail in my surroundings.

I had just reached the top of a hill when it suddenly happened. Out of nowhere I collapsed to the ground and my whole body started cramping and with the cramps came the pain which was like nothing I had ever felt before.

It felt as if every single bone in my body cracked open, healed together and then broke once again and again. After what felt like an eternity the pain slowly started to fade until it was gone altogether but I didn’t dare to move even a millimeter from my spot on the ground out of fear that the pain would return.

It wasn’t until I heard the sound of sneakers against the gravel and the sound of rustling leaves in nearby bushes that I dared to open my eyes to just as quickly shut them again. A huge canine sat within very close proximity to me, so close I should have been able to feel its fur against my body. I was utterly convinced that I had seen its front paws in front of me, but for some reason I couldn´t feel anything except for the ground beneath me and my own rapid heartbeats.

“Katherine love, are you feeling okay darling?” My eyelids flung open and I stared in surprise at my mom´s cherry-red walking shoes. “Try to sit up.” My mom encouraged me, and I did as she said. It felt weird to sit, it felt wrong somehow but I couldn’t quite figure out why. The rustling of leaves started again but now it sounded much, much closer and what came out of the bushes and up on the track behind mom just seconds after that made me want to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to shout for my mom to run away from here as fast as she could, but I couldn’t seem to form the words no matter how hard I tried. I tried to get up so I could drag her with me, but I couldn’t get up.

The beast behind her drew closer, to the look of it, it looked a lot like a wolf. I knew wolves could be massive but this one was more than colossal it was like two wolves stacked upon each other. Its piercing eyes were huge and just a shade or two lighter than the color of fresh blood. The time to escape was gone and all I could do now was to wait for it to take the leap and rip my mom into shreds, but it didn’t. Instead it came up and sat down right beside her like a gigantic dog. My mom started to pet it and then she talked to it as if that monster was an old friend of hers.

“Nice to see that you´re still strong and well after all these years Johan. How long ago is it now? Seventeen years since the last time we saw each other?” I thought mom must have lost her mind until I thought it looked like the wolf thing nodded in response. Apparently was I the one who was going mad cause wolves did NOT nod to verify what humans said.

“Welcome Katherine, I´ve looked forward to see you for many years now.” The voice came from out of nowhere, it almost seemed as if it came from the inside of my own head. “I understand that you are probably both confused and really scared as of right now, but I will explain everything very soon. All you have to know right now is that you are a werewolf just as your mother and me. I´m the Alfa or in other words the leader of Ulvsborgs pack and from now on you are a part of it.” It was first now my mind realized why the way I sat felt so weird. I sat just like a dog would have done. That must also have been the reason why I hadn’t been able to stand up, I had tried to stand up the way humans do. I looked back and forth between the werewolf Johan and my mother.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now sweetie and I’m really sorry to leave you, but I really need to get back before Lars start to worry about us, Johan will take care of you for the rest of the evening. But don’t you worry, I will make sure to have lots and lots of food ready for when you are getting back home. Do trust me when I say you are going to need it.” My mom said and stroked me behind the ears before she turned around and started running back towards town in a speed that was very surprising for her age while I was left behind with a wolf I had never previously met.

“Come with me, I have a lot of showing and explaining to do before morning and I´d like to go thorough as much as possible of it before I let you back home to Antonia.

It took several minutes and several opportunities for my face to hug the dirt before I figured out how to effectively walk on four legs with clawed paws. Johan claimed that I thought to much about it, but I didn’t trust his words. After some minutes of light trotting, I could perceive a flickering light further ahead in the woods. Once we came closer, I could see that the light came from small fireplaces surrounded by benches made out of thick logs of wood and a to me bizarre mix of even more huge wolves and very lightly dressed humans of varying ages.

“Welcome to the camp.” I flinched when Johan’s voice once again materialized itself into my head. “This is our gathering place and refuge away from the humans where we can be ourselves without having to pretend to be something that we´re not. No humans ever go this far into the woods and even if one or two would dare to go all the way out here they would be so afraid that the sound of a branch breaking would be enough for them to run home as if the devil himself were after them.” I listened attentively while shyly letting my eyes take in the sight of the camp. When the others heard us coming thorough the woods their eyes immediately turned towards me and all the attention made me feel uneasy. The camp turned out to be much bigger than it had seemed from afar. It seemed to consist of several compartments where the cooking place and the sleeping place seemed to be the most obvious ones.                      

“The first thing we are going to do is to introduce you to the pack, it´s an ancient tradition. After that I have some things to explain to you before I´ll let someone show you the way back home. You and your mom will most likely have a lot to talk about tomorrow, but you can´t mention anything that has with us to do to your sister or stepfather or any other human.”

I nodded and immediately felt how my stomach twisted into a ball of nervousness. Johan started trotting again and while he ran, he started to make strange barking sounds. I had no other choice than to follow him unless I felt like getting left behind all alone in the middle of the camp. Once we came out into a glade, I realized what purpose the barking sounds had. The Glade were already filled with around twenty wolves of different colors and sizes and even more were on their way coming from every direction.  It was first when all of them had sat down in neat row formation that I noticed their glowing eyes. The wolves had sat down in an arrangement based on their eye color, from the darkest orange to the lightest yellow. I found it strange but intriguing and put it on my mental note of questions to ask the first person who could answer them. My chain of thoughts were interrupted by Johan in his gigantic black wolf form who just called for everyone’s attention.

“As most of you already know I’ve called to this meeting tonight to welcome a new member into our pack. What most of you don’t know is that this one isn´t just any newbie.” Johan paused shortly in his speech to gesture me forward to his side where everybody could see me. I did as I were told so nervous, I could barely breathe. “This is Katherine Grimberg, my only child and heir of Ulvsborgs pack.” Already at my last name a huge wave of noises went thorough my head and before the sentence were over the noise had grown to be unbearably loud. This was probably what made it take such a long time for me to react to what he had just told the pack. When I finally realized what his words meant the realization hit me so hard, I quickly had to lie down so I wouldn’t fall and embarrass myself in front of the whole pack.

 I paced back and forth thorough the kitchen fuming with constricted fury as mom and the young man, who had followed me home, watched me with vigilant eyes. They looked almost as if they were watching the numbers on a timed bomb count down what might be what was left of their lives. Just as mom had promised it had been a huge dinner set on the table when I came home but I had been way too upset to eat it then. I tore away small pieces of meat every now and then as I passed by the table. I was too hungry and exhausted to be able to speak and too upset over tonight’s events and revelations to sit down and eat. After about an hour of quiet angry pacing mom seemed to be fed up with waiting for me to explode. She pulled out a chair from the table, firmly pushed me down on it with surprising force and stuffed an extra fat chicken thigh into my mouth before I got time enough to resist. The sudden, amazing taste of the chicken helped my hunger to win the fight over my anger and then I was way too occupied with eating to feel anything at all until I was so stuffed, I couldn’t possibly take another bite.

Then hell broke out.

I shouted, swore, hell I even threw things all over the place for at least half an hour. It was probably a good thing the young man which had followed me home stayed for dinner cause the very same moment I thought of attacking mom he had thrown his arms around me and carried me out of the house and into the yard. Then he stepped in between us every time I even thought of taking my anger out on her. Let´s just say that he received more than his fare share of my hits and kicks, but if anyone felt any pain from my violence it was me. The guy was as hard and stable as a rock.

“So now when you’ve finally calmed down a little you could perhaps consider using words to express your thoughts instead?” mom suggested with a smile I usually would have taken for caring, now it just looked scornful.

“What is there to talk about? The fact that you’ve never bothered to tell me that I am in fact a big hairy monster? That I tonight met my father for the first time in my life, the man whose name you’ve refused to mention even once to me all of these years even though he lives literally within a few kilometers from here? Or what about the fact that I am apparently the sole heir of the responsibility over a whole fucking pack of werewolves once one or both of you decides it is about time to kick the bucket? What about what I want?! No one have even thought of asking me about my opinion, I bet no one even had the thought of giving me an early warning that this was a possibility.” The tears flooded my eyes so much I couldn’t see at all and I didn’t even know why I was crying.

“So let´s say that I would have come to you a year ago and told you that you one night during a full moon would transform into a big chestnut colored wolf, would you really have believed my word?” Moms voice were clear as glass and as cold as ice.

“No, probably not.” I confessed slightly ashamed. “But you are a werewolf yourself, you could have proved to me that you spoke the truth!”

“No, that wouldn’t have been possible. It is against the rules to bring someone who haven’t gone thorough all of the changes into the camp and if I myself would have shape shifted into my wolf form again after this many years it would be like giving heroin to someone who has one been strongly addicted to the drug. I would get stuck in it all over again and I wouldn’t be able to regain the control until it had destroyed the human life I´ve build up for myself here. I have left that part of my life behind me and I don’t think there is anything on this earth which could make me take back that decision.” I flinched when something hot touched the side of my hand. It was the guy who decided to pry my fingers away from my bloody palms. Apparently, I had clenched my fists too hard around my long, hard nails.

Thank you… eh…” I felt stupid but I couldn’t for my life remember what his name was.

“Magnus, my name is Magnus.” He said with an unexpectedly deep voice considering he couldn’t be much older than myself.                      

“Oh right I almost forgot. There is one more thing I need to bring up with you regarding your new personal life and you are not going to be happy about it. I think it might be better to tell you now when you are too exhausted to make any real harm to anyone and since you’ve already yelled and shouted so much half of Sweden have gone to bed with earplugs to try and close out the noise. Or do you prefer that Johan takes it up with you tomorrow evening so the whole camp can witness your tantrum?” I did my best to take a deep calming breath before I nodded for her to continue.

“Magnus, I would probably let go of Katherines hand now if I were you. Her hand strength wasn’t something to play with already before she went thorough the changes, a crushed hand can be pretty hard to heal even for our kind.” The warmth surrounding my right hand disappeared immediately, that was the moment I realized that whatever she was going to tell me it must be something really bad. It was probably a good thing mom had somehow convinced Lars and Caroline to go and visit Caroline’s grandpa before Magnus and I got home, because the next words that left my mothers lips made me flip so hard, I got a blackout afterwards, unless I actually fainted.

“Considering you are our only heir to the pack it is of outmost importance that you continue our bloodline. Because of this your father and I has done as the traditions urge us to do and chosen a suiting husband for you to be your partner either until you get a living heir or until death do you part, whichever may come first.” That is the last thing I remember.

 Everybody demanded things of me. My father thought I didn’t put enough effort into my training, mom thought I pressured myself too hard to try and be perfect. My friends always complained that I never had the time for them anymore, Lars complained that I went out too much and Caroline thought I had suddenly become a lousy sister who never spent any time with her anymore, it made her feel like I had abandoned her. I had at least seemed to find a new friend in Magnus since he had followed me home after my first transformation. He helped me with my daily chores, answered all questions I didn´t want to ask my parents about and didn’t seem to mind listening to my long rants about how much my new life sucked. So I couldn’t really say that I was surprised when my parents two weeks after my first transformation announced that he was my betrothed all along. I couldn’t in any way say that I was very happy over the arranged relationship, but it was at least acceptable.

I didn’t have enough time nor energy left to be mad about it anymore and even if I would have it wouldn’t have made any difference. Mom were so tenacious a mountain would have moved out of her way if she told it to.

The wedding ceremony was very simple Magnus and I both cut our left-hand palms with a special knife and let the blood drip down into a golden goblet while we said the traditional vows that had been given to us. When the blood flow stopped, and the wounds had healed we gripped each other’s left underarm and mom as the packs female Alpha tied our arms together with a white silk ribbon. Then she took a step back and Johan took a step forward with the golden goblet containing mine and Magnus mixed blood. He said a few words in what must have been ancient Swedish before he let the blood slowly drip over our left arms, so the pure white silk ribbon got permanently stained with blood. Then mom declared us husband and wife and let us tie up the blood-stained ribbon which she told us to keep in a little box at a safe location as the ribbon now represented the bond which had now been created between us.

 After the ceremony I wasn’t really sure what expectations my parents and the pack had on us. They held a big party in our honor just like at any other wedding and it made me start worrying about if people were expecting me and Magnus to seal the deal later tonight. My worries grew stronger the further the night went on and I cursed my fast metabolism for stopping me from becoming even a little tipsy even though I practically chugged everything I could find containing strong amounts of alcohol.  When we upon that at the end of the evening got pulled away from the party by a couple of pack members into a big luxurious tent, I had to press my hands as hard as I could against my thighs so no one would see how much they were shaking. The tent were so high even Magnus could stand upright in it. Once the others left us alone it was more than just my hands that were shaking.  

“You are shaking.” He noted with a worried expression as if he expected me to collapse any second.

“Did you know my mom has never let me date or have a boyfriend?” Magnus continued to look at me with the same expression without answering. “She always claimed I were to young and immature to handle the responsibility and that it wasn’t good for my health to have that kind of relationship too early in life. When I got older and those reasons weren’t enough anymore, she instead said that it would have too much of a negative effect on my grades.” I wasn’t entirely sure why I told him all of this, but I didn’t have the strength to stop the chain of words that came pouring out of my mouth like a waterfall. “Now I’ve realized that she didn’t do it for the grades but for this. She didn’t want me to go thorough the pain of having to break up with a human boyfriend when I went through the changes. All this time when she didn’t let me have a boyfriend, I was so mad cause I thought I was ready for it, but this is not what I had in mind! This is way too much pressure at once.  I´m so fucking inexperienced and the fact that I don’t know shit about these things makes me feel like a scared little girl. What…” Magnus stopped my monologuing by putting one of his big warm hands on my shoulder. With the other hand he carefully wiped a tear from my cheek, I hadn’t even realized that I had been crying.

“Breathe, to faint due to lack of oxygen won´t make this situation any better.” I did my best to do as told and after a few tries I successfully drew a shaky breath.

“What are you so worried about? Do you really believe I would ever touch you without your permission?” I was going to shrug my shoulders but then I looked into his deep honey-brown eyes the sincerity in them made me shake my head and relax a little bit.

“One day we will have to produce an heir, but not yet. We are young, we have many decades before we even need to think about that if you don’t want to. On the paper we might be husband and wife now but what about we take it slow?” I felt very moved by his little speech.

“How slow are we talking about here, and where do we begin?” I asked as I felt more and more relieved.

“What about we begin as friends and then take it from there?” He suggested with a little smile.

“Let´s begin as friends.” I agreed and returned his smile with one of my own.

[sabine-leo]

Dreadful Silence - Part 14

Author: @sabine-leo

Rated: M

Genre: Angst, Insecurity, Hurt / Comfort, Humor and Fluff / 

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston / You

Part: 14/?

Note: Seeing Tom sign at the stage door in a video got me to write 2 chapters in a row. I do hope you like this chapter! Leave a comment if you like.. I do LOVE them!! 

Ian cleared his throat and looked at Tom and started “As the director of this play…” Tom took your hand into his and guided you to where they had been standing. “Let me start anew.” Ian said and smiled. “You may not have the most experience acting on stage, but what you have shown us tells me that you would be the right choice to play Beatrice…” You looked dumbfounded at first, then your face fell. Tom clutched your hand tighter.

“You…You don´t have to do that!” You said to Ian and shook your head. “Don´t do it out of pity!”

 Toms head snapped up. “Pity?” He huffed and shook his head vehemently. Ian laughed a little and said. “(Y/N), let me assure you that there is not one bit of pity involved in this, MY decision! I am not making light decisions or favouring anybody in particular. I WANT this play to succeed and I am not willing to risk it for favours!” Tom smiled softly. “Darling you were THAT good…believe me…even when you might think I am biased.” Ian pointed to the seats, a small table with a laptop and said. “Look at the footage we got on camera yesterday for my personal review. Tom said he did not want to pressure you, but…you need me to give an answer in an hour. I need to know if I got a full functioning cast or if I have to audition again. Heaven forbid…” He said with a slight smile and went backstage.

 You slumped into the seat and groaned. “I cannot believe this!” Tom sat down next to you and his hand rested on your leg. “Are you mad at me ?” He asked timidly.

“Mad? Why should I be? I agreed to help out. I walked into this Theatre again on my own terms. I freakin LOVE Beatrice. I brought this to myself.” Tom grinned a bit. “Well…I think I played a small part in that…” Looking at Tom you started to laugh a little. “Dammit Hiddleston! I knew you were trouble!”

 Tom shrugged chuckling and said as always when you made that statement. “Your Trouble!”

He leaned over to kiss you and breathed deep. “Ian was right. I said I didn´t want to pressure you. You need to make that decision on your own. I am with you either way.” Groaning you let your head fall back. “I don´t know if I can do this! That´s a whole different league then amateur theatre…”

Tom smiled and hit the PLAY button. “Let’s watch the footage…then YOU decide if you are up to it. But bear in mind. I will help you, rehearse with you and be with you every step of the way!” He lifted your entwined hands and kissed yours.

Half an hour later you looked puzzled at Tom. You had flinched as you saw yourself stepping onto stage the first time, but seeing yourself act with Tom was…thrilling. He brought out the best in you. He had the ability to enthral you so completely with his acting that you had become Beatrice on stage. You had seen HER…not yourself. Sure, there had been missteps and looking around for signs where you needed to be next but that were minor things that could be trained. Tom smiled at you and tilted his head.  His eyes were so hopeful.

“I am scared!” You said honest and closed your eyes. Tom touched your cheek. “Don´t be! We will take every step of the way…together! You´ve come so fare!” He pleaded you to look at him, you could feel it. Opening your eyes, he smiled. “One step at a time Darling THIS is the next step…and at the end of the day you look back and see that you have managed to climb a mountain.”

 “Not pressuring me into it sounds different!” You huffed and Tom chuckled. But before he could say anything you started to talk. “Will you climb that mountain with me?” Toms gaze got soft. “Any mountain…I would crawl blindfolded and bound any mountain for you. WITH you!”

You took a deep breath and wanted to say something else as Andrea stomped onto stage.

“Don´t even think about saying no!” she looked at you with a pointed finger and grinned. “The men might not want to pressure you but I think you need a kick in the butt my dear!”

Tom snorted. “She sounds like Julia!”

 You started to laugh and looked at Andrea and then at Tom. “I´ll be your Beatrice…”

Toms face lit up and he smiled so bright his cheeks must have hurt. “Darling you are my (Y/N), my Beatrice, my queen, my love…and you will be my wife!” Your eyes got big and Andrea stared equally at Tom. “ON STAGE.. HIS WIFE ON STAGE!” she yelled and jumped down to hit Toms arm. Ian came back into the Theatre and looked at you. “Times up! What did you decide!”

Andrea leaned in and whispered to Tom. “Hold the horses Hiddleston. You´re are galloping ahead!”

Tom watched you walking to Ian and grinned. “Nope, I meant what I said!”

Now Andrea hissed “You don´t want to pressure her into the role but are telling her that she will marry you?” Tom looked unfazed. “Yes, simple fact of life. You don´t think I will EVER let her get away again?!” Andrea stood there gaping at Tom. “I don´t know if that was sexy as hell or just plain stupid!” Tom just grinned and shrugged. “You are invited by the way!” He walked to hug you from behind and left a laughing Andrea standing in the aisles before the stage.

The next weeks were a whirlwind of rehearsals, dress fittings and stage training for you. You and Tom had managed to keep your engagement in the play a secret from your friends. They thought you helped out with finding requisites and other things regarding stage decorations. Because you mostly knew every line you needed to say you could concentrate on the acting part. Tom gave you very good hints and Andrea helped you as much as she could, but also told you that you were a natural and had to trust your instinct a lot more than overdoing it by trying to hard. You grew more confident each day and exhaustedly but with a smile hit the bed every night. Tom engulfing you in his arms and keeping his promise to be with you every step of the way. His words on the day you accepted to play Beatrice where not forgotten but neither did you talk about it. You smiled as you thought about it whilst laying in his arms. It did not scare you at all, it was another mountain to climb for another day but it was a mountain you looked forward to as you drifted of to sleep.

 Opening Night came and with it a mayhem of emotions. Tom had given Julia, Sam, Paul, Jack and Christine tickets to watch the play. He had also given you an alibi why you won´t join them beforehand, saying he needed you to help him dress backstage. 2 hours before the first curtain would rise and after the last fine tuning by Ian you were a bundle of nerves. Your hands were shaking and your whole body felt like needles were pinching it. And worst of all, your stammer had reappeared. Andrea had tried to calm you down but although she had become a friend to you, she was not able to get you calm enough to breath deep. “Sit down! DON`T MOVE!” She said and looked at you intensely. You just nodded; not enough breath left to do anything else anyway.

 “Tom!” Andrea knocked on the dressing room of the men. Tom opened the door and looked at her. His face fell, he knew something was wrong. “You need to calm her down. She started to stammer again. Her nerves are bad!” Tom gulped but nodded. Shit, had it been to early? Was it to much strain they had, HE had put on you? Tom ruffled his hair and just walked into the room you were in, not bothering to knock. “Darling…” he kneeled before you. “I..I I I caaan caan´t breathe!” You looked horrified. “Shhhhshhshshh” he stroked up your legs. “Come with me love…” You shook your head.

“Ca can´t mo…move…” Toms gaze was so soft. “Remember.. one step after the other. You are almost on top of this mountain.” He stood and gathered you effortlessly up in his arms.

 Tom walked with you onto the stage. He did not know if it would work, but he would damn well try. He sat you down in the middle of the stage. “Lie down love!” Tom looked to the few people still working inside the theatre. “Please leave.” They looked at him in wonder as he sat down next to you.

“We need to…” “I don´t care. LEAVE for 10 minutes! And kill the lights on your way out!” “But!!!...”

“I am sorry to be rude but..KILL THE DAMN LIGHTS!”

You took Toms hand and squeezed, looking at him apologetically.

Andrea and her husband came to help and urged the people out. Tom lay down next to you and Andrea killed one light after the other while Tom tugged you close. “Breathe darling…” He made you rest your head on his chest. “Together!” He said soothingly and it was pitch black in the theatre.

 Two minutes later he had managed to even your breathing. “Good…” he stroked your back and kissed your head. “You don´t have to be afraid. You know everything there is to know for tonight.” It took another minute before your muscles lost their tension. “You are doing great!” Andrea switched the dim performing lights on, illuminating the aisles. Tom still held you close. “I want you to think of our first time like this…laying in your livingroom.” You smiled at the memory and uncurled your hand that had been gripping his shirt. Tom continued “Then think about lying here with me…I promise you we will do it after our performance. I will kiss you when the curtain closes and we will lay down together!” Andrea switched on another light, illuminating the ceiling.

 The lights coming back to live resembled your way out of the panic, out of the angst you had felt. Tom, with the help of Andrea and her husband managed to pull you slowly back into the light. Out of the foggy, pitch black corner in your mind that had had you in its grip. “Together…” you said and took another breath. “Always!” Tom pledged and let go of you as he felt you wanted to sit up.

“I am so sorry…” you said with tears in your eyes. Tom kneeled before you, taking your face into his hands. “Don´t be… You have every right to be frightened - I am too- , but don´t let it control you. Try to take advantage of it. Route it into energy you can feed of.”

 Tom smiled softly and leaned in for a slow kiss. “I am with you every step of the way!” You hugged him tight and breathed in his unique scent. “Let´s do it!” You said without a stammer. Tom was your anchor, your safe harbour in a troubled sea. You looked into his blue eyes and smiled. Tom got up and held out his hands for you. You took them and he tugged you into another embrace before he walked backstage with you saying. “I probably owe those people a beer or two later.” Andrea and her husband Marc followed you into the corridor. “We´ll join in.” Tom grinned thankful and let Marc give him a high five.

 “DRESS UP FOLKS!” Ian yelled as the four of you made it back to the dressing rooms. “Will you be ok?” Tom asked and held your face in his hands again. You nodded and kissed him. “Yes, go dress and I will see you on stage!” Tom smiled happy and grinned “I can´t wait to see the look on their faces.” Snickering you stole another kiss before Andrea pulled you in. “Dress now. Kiss later!” she closed the door in front of a chortling Toms nose.

Tags : @witchbitch-stuff @drakesfiance @confessionsofastrugglingteen @mylovelycrazyworld? @adefectivedetective @mylovelycrazyworld @shegatsby @anchored-in-high-tide @archy3001 @itscalledfandomsweetielookitup @amazinggraces-world @tanishahka @coniumalces @emomemelordess  @inlovewithfreyamikaelson @heart-shaped-hell @theoneanna @marikochi @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @awkwardfangirl2014 @rainbowsinthestorm 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

The Ghost Whisperer

TW: Major character death (via suicide), some blood mention, and emotional stuff lies ahead.

..................

Over the course of the next several months, there have been a lot of tears, yelling, and anguish of all kinds throughout the household.

On that dreadful April day, a brother, a vlogger, and beloved father of two, was found in his dead recording room. A pool of blood surrounded his head, trickling from an open wound in the side of his head, along with a gun stained in red laying in the palm of his already pale and cold hand.

No one could have known that this would happen. But even as Henrik, Marvin, and Anti used their abilities to do every possible thing that they could to save him....it was already far too late.

For a long time the good doctor couldn’t come to terms with it. He’s saved his own creator from a fatal throat wound, and yet...despite an extensive surgery and careful extraction of the bullet, it couldn’t save Chase.

He had kept himself locked up in his office after that, trying to understand what he did wrong and how he missed the signs. Anyone who entered was immediately screamed at to get out.

But when you stepped in and brought him a glass of water..that’s when he finally cracked and sobbed into your arms for a long while. Such a simple and benign gesture reminded him that Chase used to look after his well-being, even on days where he neglected his own.

Only then did Henrik stop isolating himself from you and the rest of his family.

Jack felt like it was somehow his fault that he made his ego drive to that point, although you were swift to reassure him that nobody blamed him for the incident. When the other egos told him the same thing and surrounded him in hugs, he held onto them and cried for a while, bringing you into the embrace as well.

From there on, everyone focused on healing and helping one another through the horrific time.

Fast forward to now, when Jack brought up that the studio where Chase recorded “Bro Average” was a mess. But nobody wanted to clean it because the memories were still a bit too painful to bear. Anti had gone in there for only ten seconds and he was already on his knees sobbing when you went to check up on him.

They all had such a strong emotional bond with one another, and that was tethered to the community as well, who had equally mourned for an ego who they all loved but was gone too soon. Since the men could feel that pain, too, you knew that moving on was incredibly difficult for them.

It was hard for you and Jack, too, but one day you decided to go into the room and do the cleaning, since you knew it’s what Chase would’ve wanted. You even offered to gather some of his personal belongings and put them into a box for his brothers to keep.

They felt a bit bad that none of them were up to the task, although you reassured them that they still needed time to heal. And that was perfectly okay.

So when they all went to sleep, and you did, too, although you got up bright and early in the morning. After getting dressed and retrieving a drink, cleaning supplies, and a box, you headed to the studio and got right to work.

.............

“Ugh..how lovely.” With a sigh, you scrubbed the chocolate stains out of the carpet the best you could, remembering how Chase used to do little stunts with the candy eggs in celebration of Easter.

They were never picked up and eventually melted down with the rays of sun that occasionally seeped into the room. But you managed to make the stains almost disappear completely.

“Whew..” You stood up and rubbed your forehead, already feeling it grow a bit sweaty.

On the table you had a box with stuff from Chase’s room and this studio, including his Nerf gun, which had been cleaned thoroughly, his watch, some bracelets, tea boxes, and a picture frame of his families: with Stacy and his kids, and you and the egos.

But the strangest thing was that no matter where you looked...you couldn’t find his signature hat. You knew it wasn’t buried along with him, and yet you weren’t able to find it in his room nor in the studio.

Maybe when the others woke up you can ask them about it-

“[Y/n]..?”

Tensing up, you turned around and blinked in surprise upon seeing a pale version of Chase. He had his hat on, which had a tear on the side of his head; that was completely stained in red, trailing down his neck.

It was then you remembered your ability to see ghosts. But not in the transparent, floating, spirit forms like Marvin had told you about. Instead your gift allowed you to see and feel them in their corporeal forms.

For some reason, though, they only appeared to you whenever they had trouble with moving on...although for now you were just so relieved to see Chase after all this time and just wanted to talk to him after not seeing any signs of his presence for months.

Immediately you set down everything and smiled, tears coming to your eyes as you walked towards him. “Chase..I’m...I’m so happy to see you again.” You hugged him tightly, and he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

“I-I’m sorry..” His chest trembled as you felt tears soaking onto your skin. But you just carded a hand through his hair tenderly, ignoring the wetness on one side of it. He could only sob softly at the gesture, holding you tighter. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..I was so fucking stupid a-and..and I just-”

“Shhh, shhh..” You hushed him softly, although at this point you were both just crying in each other’s arms, so relieved to see one another.

Once you had calmed down, you pulled out of the hug and looked at him, wiping away a tear that fell down his cheek. “So..you’ve been haunting the room all this time?”

He nodded. “Y-Yeah..I’ve been..just doing my trickshots. Marvin probably didn’t even sense my presence..”

“I’m afraid not.” You frowned as you both sat down on the floor. “Everyone avoided this room like the plague. They just...they’re still having such a difficult time processing your..passing. Anti didn’t even last a minute in here without breaking down.”

“R-Really?” Chase sniffled, cracking a smile. “Even that asshole misses me?”

“Of course he does,” you told him, smiling as well. “He really did try his best to save you that day.”

“I thought you would be more..pissed off.”

Looking up at him, you blinked in surprise. “What?”

“I didn’t show myself until now..b-because I thought everyone would be angry with me and screaming.” He bit his lower lip, bowing his head. “I know I fucked up and...and I regret it with every inch of my..afterlife. But I can’t change the past. A-And I didn’t want to just...leave you all. So I stayed hidden. Lowkey I was expecting you to slap me instead of hug me when I appeared to you..”

“Chase..” You sighed as you took his hands into yours. “No one is angry with you. We’re all just..lost and confused. Like something was missing.”

He gazed at you once more, although the nervous look was replaced with a determined one, making you tile your head to the side in confusion.

“When everyone wakes up, tell them to meet us in the living room. I think I know what’s missing.”

...........

Once everyone had woken up and finished their daily morning routines, you beckoned them all into the living room, having them sit down on the couch. But when they saw you bring out a box with Chase’s stuff and set it on the coffee table, they all looked at you with expression of confusion, sadness, and heartache.

“Is this..all of his stuff?” Jack was the first to ask as he took the box and set it in his lap, staring down at the name “CHASE” written in marker. Then he looked up at you, eyebrows furrowing. “Thanks for this, [y/n]. I guess..we should figure out what to do with-”

However, he heard Marvin’s breath hitch and looked to see him staring at something in the corridor with wide eyes.

“Vhat are you looking at?” Henrik glanced at the seemingly empty hallway in confusion.

“I-It’s Chase..his spirit...” Marvin looked back at you. “Y-You see him, too?”

“He appeared to me this morning,” you said. “He wanted me to gather you all here. He believes that..seeing you all of here at once will help him finally rest. Up to now he was too scared to show himself, but...he’s feeling brave now.”

You saw Chase and smiled sadly at him. He nodded his head and leaned against the wall.

Tears welled in Henrik’s eyes. “I-Is..zhere a vay ve could see him?”

“Yes. Just give me a moment.” Marvin cleared his throat and stood up, taking out his spellbook and waving a gloved hand around in the air. “Videre spirituum.” With a snap of his fingers, everyone in the room except you and him felt their vision changing.

“Now just..everyone close their eyes for five seconds, and then open them.”

They did just that, and once they opened their eyes again, they glanced at the corridor to see their deceased brother’s spirit. Tears sprung in most of their eyes; even Angus was having a hard time keeping himself together.

Chase walked into the room, standing in the middle and watching everyone carefully. He was worried that any sound he made would set someone off, but he felt you nudge him arm, and he sighed, clearing his throat. “H-Hey..”

But he was unable to finish what he was going to say, as he just dropped to the floor, clutching his head as his body shook with sobs. His brothers and Jack didn’t hesitate to get up and join him, surrounding him in hugs as they both cried and gave him soft reassurances, holding him as tight as they could.

Within a few minutes, they all calmed down, but they didn’t let go of each other. Chase looked at you and beckoned you to join the hug. You smiled sadly and did just that, putting your arms around Anti and Jackie.

Then after some time longer, the group hug dispersed and everyone pulled away from each other. But you were the first to notice that Chase’s body was starting to flicker between transparency and his solid form.

“Wh-Why’s yer body doin’ that?” Anti sniffled, confused.

“I think..a group hug from his family is what he needed,” you said, looking at the ghost who nodded at you, confirming your suspicions.

“Yeah..I-I..I wish I could say more but..I guess it’s time,” he mumbled sadly. “But hey..soon I’ll be doing trickshots on the clouds, or..wherever I’m going.”

Marvin stayed silent, although he glanced down at his hands, his palms beginning to glow. But he blinked when he saw your hand overlaying one of his own, squeezing it reassuringly. Then he looked up to see you shake your head. “It’s time for him to rest.”

“[Y/n]s right. Though..you think there’s a chance I could chat with you through one of those old Ouija boards sometime?”

The magician chuckled weakly at his brother, wiping away a tear. “M-Maybe, but..it’ll be hard not seeing your face anymore.”

“I’ll always be there,” Chase said, looking at his brothers and Jack. “Even when you can’t see me.” He noticed his hands were turning invisible, and he looked back at all of you. “Th-Thank you guys..and thank you, [y/n]..” Tears filled his eyes as he smiled. “Say hi to my kids for me.”

Everyone said their goodbyes, swarming him in one final group hug as his entire body faded away, his “thank you”s echoing until they became silent.

But even then, you all still hugged each other close, sharing smiles and tears, knowing that he was finally at peace.

[danaej6-blog]

Chocolate and Vanilla

Chocolate & Vanilla 

  Though Paige was all in tears and I looked pretty sad, from what everyone else could see, I was actually filled with joy. Finally, that girl is gone! I thought. Little does she know that the whole year of “friendship” we had meant nothing to me. Faking it was all to easy and fun, but now I had the chance to find a friend that actually cared. Paige wanted to just laugh and be crazy, but Paige’s kind of crazy was annoying. That one year with her seemed like an eternity. She always called me Laidy, no matter how many times I told her to call me Adalaide. I tried to gather up some tears to make a very sad goodbye. I mean I guess I would miss her kind words, and thoughtfulness. If you couldn’t catch that I was being sarcastic. Anyways we hugged, and she got into the van for the airport. She waved her little heart out while I just gave a little smile. Aaaaah freedom feels nice. 

It was that time again. School was starting and I was ready for a new year, and all the drama that came with it. I woke up at 6:45 as usual and got dressed. “Let’s see black, grey, white, or blue…… definitely black, and what goes better with a black shirt than a black pair of pants, and big pair of black boots, and black leather jacket!” I thought to myself, “Ok maybe I’ll wear a grey shirt.” I got my messy hair tied up into a ponytail. Then I ate some eggs and toast really quick. Popped earphones into my ears, pressed play and I was on my way. I hopped into my car, then drove off. I started to come up upon the school bus stop where I used to have to go to before I got my car, A girl with curly light brown hair a few inches past her shoulder shoved her books into her bag. She had these black ballet flats on, skinny jeans, and a light turquoise shirt. She started running after the bus, but it zoomed off and didn’t stop. She slowed down to a walking pace. Though I was going to the same school, I wasn’t really the helping others type of person.  I kept driving, and wondered if I would end up actually seeing her at school or not. 

At school we were all assigned classes, then sent off to our first class. The girl that was left by the bus driver ended up being in two of my classes, and apparently her name was Lacy. She is a new student, but seems pretty cool. At the math class our teacher told us that there would be a test and I we didn’t get past a certain grade we would go down a grade for math! I have never been to good at math, but I definitely do not want to go down a grade. School ended and I headed to my car, and to my luck the car wouldn’t start. Perfect! I called a mechanic, and I was just dreading what the cost might be. I leaned against my car waiting, by the time the mechanic got there everyone had already left school. It took a full two hours for whatever the problem was to fixed. It was starting to get dark so I got in my car and looked in the rear-view mirror, and to my surprise there was someone walking into the school wearing a black hoodie. I slowly got out of my car and shut the door silently, and walked toward where the mysterious person entered. Once I got to the hallway I was shocked to see Lacy doing something to the vending machine. Somehow, she was able to open the door to it and she grabbed a bunch of snacks and drinks and put it into a bag. I quickly hid behind the wall, and she started walking to the exit. She had almost made it out before I stepped out. 

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t even look back before she bolted out as fast as she could. I ran after her. My boots hit the ground with power when, I reached out and grabbed her arm, as  I did we both flailed to the ground. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” she screamed struggling, and trying to get out of reach. “I don’t need your help!” 

“Where do get the idea that I am trying to help you?!”,“I don’t help anyone but myself!” I didn’t really care what she was doing, but I mean it seemed dangerous, and dangerous means fun, to me. 

“Ok you’ve caught me, but this is the only way I can survive I don’t have parents that feed me and take care of me like everyone else.” She said solemnly. “l live off the vending machine and sleep wherever I can find a place, then I go to school and pretend I am like everyone else.” 

“Cool.” 

“NO! NOT COOL!” she screamed at me. “I am living on my own with no place to go, and barely any money!” 

“Sounds adventurous!” I said excitedly, it would be my dream to be out on my own, not knowing what might happen next. I don’t know why I never tried it before, just running away with no plan at all. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” she replied. Maybe I didn’t get it, but her life seemed so much more interesting than mine.  

“You wanna do something fun?” I asked her. I don’t know what went through her head when she made a lot of facial expressions. 

‘I don’t think that is a good idea, don’t you have to go home anyways?” she said 

“Don’t worry about me.” I couldn’t care less if I got in trouble. I have spent too much time with such boring people. I wanna do something fun. 

“It depends on what your idea of fun is…” I could tell she was nervous to do anything crazy and life threatening, but I knew I might be able to convince her to do something anyway. 

“I promise you it’s gonna be fun. You’re not gonna die!” I said sarcastically. I waited for her response.  

“What do you have in mind?” she asked 

“Follow me!” I said as I started running towards the school. At first, I thought she wouldn’t come follow me, but then I heard her footsteps running behind me. Then when we made it to the main hallway of the school, I realized I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, that was supposed to be fun. Then I remembered the test that we had to take for math. The teacher said that the test is taken every year so they know where the students should be placed based on their math skills. That would mean the test is already somewhere in the school. “Come this way there is a teacher room at the end of the hall.” I said as I made my way down the hall. 

“Why are we going to the teacher’s room?” she asked me. 

“You’ll see” I said opening the door to some sort of teachers lounge. I soon as I got in I noticed a large beige file cabinet in the corner by a printer.  I started looking through stuff hoping I might be able to find the math test. 

“So, what are we doing here?” she questioned me. 

“I am looking for something.” 

“What are you looking for, I thought this was supposed to be fun?” 

“You wanna pass the math test tomorrow? We can find the test and we will pass easy peasy!” I said kind of excited. 

“I don’t think that is a good idea. Cheating is not right we shouldn’t do this. How can you call this fun?” 

“It is fun! Come on what does it matter anyways, you can do anything you want you live on your own just take the risk, the worst thing that could happen is you fail the test” 

“Fine, but if things get to dangerous I am out!” 

“Whatever. Just help me look.” We started to search again looking in cabinets and folders. And soon enough found it. 

“I think I found it!” Lacy said from across the room. I read the test to see if it was the one. It seemed like the right one, so I told Lacy to meet me at the bus stop early the next morning so that we could plan things out. Then I remembered that I should probably get home. I looked at my hone and my mom called me 16 times! I called her back and told her about what happened to the car, and hoped she wouldn’t suspect anything else. She seemed to be ok, but she was mad I didn’t say anything earlier. When I got home. I quickly went to bed. The next day I picked lacy up from the bus stop early in the morning.  We wrote out all the test answers on paper then put it in our shoes for safe keeping. The test would be the next period, and I told lacy to meet me at my locker right before math class. “Hey Adalaide, I don’t think we should do this.” She said.  

“Seriously you are backing out? Now, right before math class! I thought you were in this with me!” I said upset. I thought I could trust her to stick with me. 

“I am sorry but I cheating is wrong and I don’t care if I don’t get in trouble. I don’t wanna do it.” 

“Come on, don’t be a wimp. I worked hard to get this all ready. Why are you so afraid? Stop being afraid and just do it.” 

“Why does it matter so much to you whether or not I do this?” she questioned me. 

“Look, you told me yesterday that you were ok with this. Did you lie to me?!” I said kinda angry. 

“No…. it’s just…I……” she obviously didn’t know what to say. I don’t like it when people ditch me like that. 

“You seriously don’t know how to have any fun.” I said very disappointed. 

“What if we get caught?” she said. Obviously, we would go to detention and I’d probably get grounded for forever, but I’ve gotten worse punishments, and I wasn’t going to tell her that. 

“We aren’t going to get caught. Trust me. I have done this plenty of times before.” I lied, but seemed to be convinced. 

“You have to promise, if they find out I don’t have a real home they will put me in a home. I don’t want that to happen.” 

“Deal.” I said. Then I heard the bell ring and realized we were late to class. We ran down the hall as fast as we could, and hoped we could sneak into class quietly.  

“Adalaide and Lacy, you are late to class. Don’t let this happen again girls.” Our math teacher, Mr. Stan said stiffly when we entered the room. 

“No problem Mr. Stan, it won’t happen again.” I replied politely, then I walked to my seat and sat down. He then began to explain all about how the math test would work, and bla bla bla. I handed Lacy a paper of how she should answer the test questions. This way we wouldn’t have the same answers and we wouldn’t have all of our answers correct. It would be way to obvious if every answer was correct, and both of our tests were alike. After all the test papers were passed out I stuck the piece of paper with answers on it in my sleeve. The test began and I tried to be sneaky when looking at my answer sheet. Our teacher walked around the room slowly, but after a couple rounds he sat down at his desk. I thought that I would be safe after that, so I took the piece of paper out of my sleeve so I could see the answers better. I peered over to see how lacy was doing. She had her sheet of paper on her desk too. I looked back down at my paper, and it wasn’t long before I saw a shadow over my desk. I heard Mr. Stan clear his throat. I saw him look from Lacy to me. 

“Adalaide and Lacy! I am shocked!  Go to the office this instant!  You know better that to cheat! I am VERY disappointed!” He then grabbed our papers. We both looked at each other, and everyone was looking at us. We left the room and went to the principles office. We got detention and I was grounded forever.  The worst part about it was that Lacy was being taken away to an orphanage! I didn’t think that this could end so badly. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t pushed her into doing this she wouldn’t have been taken away. 

 I kept thinking about what happened with me and Lacy and I wanted to make it up to her, but I didn’t know how. Months later after the big cheating incident, and a lot of convincing, I got my parents to adopt Lacy! It was the perfect plan. Which means that we would be sisters I guess. I never had a sibling before and I was happy to know my adopted sister would be my best friend! We both learned our lessons and I drive her to school every day. Afterschool on Friday I wanted to do something special, so we went to Starbucks. We both got Frappuccino’s, I got chocolate and she got vanilla. The perfect pair.

The purpose of this piece was to write a story eligible for kids of ages 10 or 11 to read. The purpose was also to teach some sort of moral and have a lesson to be learned. I chose the story idea because it wasn’t the usual relatable story of a girl in school, the story was also on the point of view of the girl that was the “bad girl”, instead of the typical nice girl and all her problems. This is my best work because I planned out my characters before writing, and used that to think of a typical day for that person and I think it helped build their character. I put characters in situations which best show their character. My strength in this paper was my introduction. In my introduction I didn’t start by saying who the character is how old she is, I right away told a story about the character and what happened inn her past to show where she is now. My weakness was continuing the story’s plot while holding the character’s personality and keep the story interesting and exciting. I learned from this piece that you need to have a very clear and detailed plan of what you are going to write about and think of your characters and how they are going to act, respond to certain things, and their personality.  That’s when we jumped off the cliff and landed straight in the rushing waters of the waterfall things went blurry and suddenly my head lifted above the water. I looked round and above in the blue- sky eagles flew screeching out their songs.

[singingpeople]

Undoing

Chapter 3

We're not lovers We're just strangers With the same damn hunger To be touched, to be loved To feel anything at all I miss the mornings with you laying in my bed I miss the memories replaying in my head I miss the thought of a forever, you and me

 Halsey - Strangers

@pathybo @beautifulramblingbrains @tigpooh67 @jojuarez26 @iammarylastar @lets-play-truth-or-dare @deepfrz @carefultheyspit @feminamortem  @mom2reesie @kellieabro @lauraaan182 @you-wont-let-me-let-you-go @beltz2016 @frecklefaceb @tomarisela

  I was woken up way too early and I opened my eyes, immediately hit with a terrible headache, eyes red and completely exhausted, not having gotten much sleep to begin with, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. I felt like a zombie.

Natalie had come into the room, shaking us awake one by one, waiting in the hallway while we got up. Almost falling out of my bed, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes only being able to guess how I looked like. What I would have given for a hot shower, a mirror, a little make-up to hide the bags beneath my eyes and Eri–

No, don´t even go there.

 Looking up through burning eyes I found Susan staring at my nightgown and following her line of sight, I realized that the once white gown was almost completely stained with green and brown on the bottom, making it obvious that I had been outside last night. I just hoped there was something to hide the bite marks on my neck with – and suddenly I was thankful for the high-rising neckline of my dress.

Giving her a tight smile, I shrugged my shoulders.

“Couldn’t sleep…”

 Reciprocating, Susan´s expression was soft as she tightened the stocks on her legs before slipping into her shoes, her appearance immaculate while I struggled to get the dress over my head.

“I thought I heard something last night. I´m sure it be easier this night. We have a long day in front of us.”

 Scrunching up my face, I ran a hand through my hair mourning the lost strands. Watching how Susan did her bun with ease, I tried to mirror her movements but mine was way too lose, falling apart instantly. After two more tries, I gave up, looking over to her in despair, holding out a hair clip. "Can you help me, please?"

 “Of course.” Hurrying over, Susan gently took the clip and twisted my hair up with one turn of her wrist, pinning it tightly to my head so it wouldn’t be in the way later.

 “Thank you.” I gave her a tired but genuine smile that she returned and after I tied up my shoes we followed the other two out of the room, this time punctual.

Natalie waited in front of the door, immediately leading us into the foyer where the boys already stood, ready to face the day.

 The first thing we did was preparing breakfast for ourselves which even I managed. It was a tasteless mush consisting of oatmeal and milk, cooked until it was grey and resembled baby food more than actual food. Forcing it down my throat, I suppressed every thought of muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages, knowing it would only further my frustration. There was almost no conversation on our table and for once I didn’t care, too tired to fully keep my eyes nonetheless actively participating.

Not without coffee.

 I was only shoving the food from side to side with my spoon when Marcus arrived, freshly shaven as he told us to get up and follow him. Doing as we were told we first had to do the dishes before each of us received the clothes they had taken from us last night, tightly bundled up and held together with cord. Leading us outside we were met by the first rays of sunshine and I closed my eyes, for a moment just reveling feeling the warmth on my skin –

Until Marcus´ voice disrupted the tranquility of the scene.

 “What you have in hands,” he started, hands folded in front of him, a content smile on his face. “is your old life. Instead of burning and throwing it away, which would be a waste, you will gift it to a person of your choice, choosing to let go of the life you are used – is it dependent of our faction, or another – you are a part of us now, adults, honorable members of our society. And we expect that you behave as such.” His dark blue eyes flitting over us, stopping at me a moment longer before addressing us all again.

“Once you have completed initiation, visiting day marking the end of the four weeks, you, that are from here, can return home to share dinner with your parents as equals, not having to wait until you are allowed to speak. Those who come from different factions will have the opportunity to show their families around – if they should come.”

 Hearing that the children here weren’t allowed to speak up, I furrowed my brows, asking myself why anyone would want their children to be quiet but when he mentioned visiting day, my heart fell. There was no way even a single member of my family would come to see me, to see the embarrassment, the shunned human I had become.

 Lost in thought, I didn’t realize Marcus had stopped speaking and led them away, rooted to my spot, gnawing my cheek. Looking up, I saw that they were already several feet away and I hurried after them, the bundle tucked safely under my arm.

Falling into step with Susan, who shot me a questioning look, I gave her a smile and waved it off.

Maybe, Abnegation wouldn’t be so bad as long as I had one friend by my side.

  It took us only fifteen minutes to arrive at the factionless shelter where abnegation gave out food, clothing and sometimes medicine. It was only logical that they would stay so close to their only food source, only starting to become a threat when the stronger ones thought they deserved more than they received. I had seen it, accompanying my brother on patrols frequently. I just prayed he wasn’t there this time.

 The shelter was like I remembered it, mostly woman and elderly, the odd kid that was condemned to live this way without having a chance to redemption all because of its parent’s fault. The whole warehouse was full of scrap, old tables and metal wires, lots of blankets building tents and separating segments from each other.

I know, for the ones that had to search through assembly points like this it was pure hell. The fluttering clothes hiding potential dangers and movements, every piece of metal could be used as a weapon and if you didn’t pay attention or when you´re caught off guard you could shot a child instead of the attacker you assumed hid behind the next wall.

It had happened before and it will happen again.

 Additionally to our old clothes, we had been given a small package consisting of food I was sure was tastier than the stuff we got this morning and I asked myself if they really deserved it after all the stories I´d been told. Then I remembered that my whole life would be devoted to helping them from now on and I forced every one of those tales, every prejudice against factionless to the back of my head, locking them in tightly.

Strolling the rows of factionless, still weary, I had not the slightest idea who I should give the stuff in my hands or how to even approach them until I came across a girl close to my age and statue, her black hair skillfully braided but her clothes tattered.

But the way she held herself as she sat cross-legged, fiddling with a piece of metal in her hand reminded me so much of dauntless that I deemed her worthy of wearing their colors.

Approaching her carefully, I waited until she looked up with a questioning expression until I handed her the items expecting her to rip them out of my hands.

But she merely raised one eyebrow, slowly stretching her hand out to take them from me, her face betraying nothing as she stared at the black fabric.

“I thought they would fit you. The boots are new so they should last for some time or you can trade them for… whatever.”

 She stayed silent and I was already preparing to leave, angry at myself for giving the last things that reminded me of home to someone so ungrateful when she did speak.

“A dauntless transferring to abnegation. How the hell did that happen?”

 “That´s none of you fucking business.” Turning back to her, I smiled sickly sweet, the audacity making my blood boil. But instead of getting up, ready to fight me the girl just started smirking, her face promising nothing but mischief.

 “Couldn’t be because you´re meek, that much´s clear.” She winked at me but a movement from behind me had all traces of amusement vanish from her face, going back to the stony way it was before. A person stepped up to us, his hawk-like eyes narrowing in at the bundle on the girl's lap, his lips curling up into a smile that looked wrong seeing on his face.

 “I see, you understand what it means to give, Casey. But we don´t swear, never. Do you understand?”

 “Of course, Marcus. I´m sorry.” Bowing my head, I avoided his gaze, the frustration inside me running high because he seemed to always be there when I was making a mistake. He tutted once at me before bowing his head to the girl, walking away without a glance back. I watched his back disappear further down the hall, stopping beside one of the boys who was giving an apple to a little boy.

Until she spoke, I´ve had no idea that the girl was doing the same, her face contorted into a sneer as she watched him patronizingly lecture the other initiate, too.

 “Be careful of that one.” Her voice was quiet, but commanding, laced with something akin to distrust. “He´s not all he seems. Behind that posh exterior of his, he doesn’t hide a pile of gold.”

 “Believe me,” I assured her, watching the smile on Marcus' face crumble the second he thought no one was watching him. “I know.”

After we had helped giving food to the factionless that had been brought by other members, we went back to the headquarters to prepare our meal – steamed vegetables, chicken and mashed potatoes once again – this time diverting into two groups: the first would cook, the second do the dishes.

Following Susan´s lead, we were the ones responsible for the vegetables and cutting the carrot into tiny pieces, even the knife felt wrong in my hand, the kitchen void of any small talk like it was usual with the dauntless cooks where their knives doubled as ones to throw at the head of the person you had a misunderstanding with. I can´t count how many of them Eri– the leaders had to punish because of it.

It had always been fun to watch full-grown man shrink a size when one of them approached, suddenly not able to hurt a fly.

Those cowards.

 After we ate, we were ushered outside again without a break, claiming that personal time was wasteful and therefore selfish and before I knew what was going on I had already been ordered to help an elderly lady clean her house, a mop in hand.

Seeing me stare at the thing as if it was a torture device, she started laughing slightly and grabbed it from my hand, showing me step by step what to do.

With a few mishaps, I managed to get the whole house cleaned just in time for dinner, the nice lady who I got to know as Mrs. Miller secretly placing a piece of candy in my pocket, claiming with a wink that we deserved a treat sometimes too.

Her little act of kindness made my whole day and I didn’t even ask Susan why she behaved strange at dinner, fidgeting around while avoiding my eyes, dismissing it as exhaustion after the long day we had.

 But when I arrived at the dorms as the last one, having used the bathroom while Susan had excused herself ten minutes prior, claiming she had something important to do, I realized why she had behaved so strange.

 Marcus Eaten was standing inside our dorm, his hand tightly closed around a white piece of fabric, Susan behind him, eyes lowered to the floor, hands fidgeting. She looked guilty.

The other two were standing beside their beds, both too not daring to look up as Marcus turned towards me.

Watching the whole scene in confusion, it took me a moment to figure out what was happening, the scene too close to the ones at home shortly before someone was punished. That was until Marcus held out his hand, scrutinizing me with narrowed eyes while I tried to understand what he wanted with the cloth and I realized with a sinking stomach that it was the nightgown I had worn yesterday, the strains on the once snow-white fabric a stark contrast.

He knew. He fucking knew.

 “Come with me.”

I was sitting in an uncomfortable chair in Marcus´ office facing the desk he was behind watching me with folded hands while I stared at the floor, his intense gaze on my skin making me uncomfortable. We had been here for over ten minutes without one word coming out of his mouth since he commanded me to follow him and I obeyed not without shooting Susan a dirty look, knowing exactly where she had been when she had claimed to have something important to do that couldn’t wait.

I was familiar with this tactic of intimidation, Eric used it all the time, just like my mother who had me sweating in fright every time she pulled this act even when I wasn’t aware I had done something wrong.

But with the man in front of me, it was something different.

 He was an unknown force, I had no idea if I was here so he could simply lecture me if I would be punished… or worse. Scraping away on the remaining polish on my nails, I tried to think of anything else but the man in front of me, like how I was disgusting myself acting all meek when all I wanted to tell him that it was none of his damn business.

Of course, I didn’t.

 Marcus cleared his throat and my head whipped up, for the first time since coming into this room meeting his eyes.

“There were reports of an incident last night. Have you heard anything about them?”

 “No, Sir. I was too busy today to make much conversation.” I replied respectfully and honestly. I had heard nothing, abnegation wasn’t exactly known for gossip.

 “Well, then let me enlighten you,” Marcus spoke patronizingly, but his voice held a sharp edge indicating that he was less than pleased. “last night around one am one of our members thought to hear noises around the perimeter. He said he was afraid factionless were trying to break into the supply building, but all he spotted was a member of dauntless. I think we both know why he was here.” I turned my head away until the movement of his hand had me look back towards him, where he placed the once white nightgown on the desk.

“This explains enough. But what I would like to know from you, Casey, is why he was here and why you thought it would be a good idea to leave the dorms after curfew and with a man nonetheless.”

 “He just wanted to say goodbye.” Was all I muttered, staring at my feet slowly blinking. Just thinking about last night and the way I send him away physically hurt – but speaking it out loud was sheer agony.

 “I didn’t understand you. Speak up.” Imagining to detect a small undertone of glee in his voice, almost undetectable, I gripped the fabric of my skirt in my fist to restrain myself, eyes hard as I looked back up at him.

 "He just wanted to say goodbye. I send him away." My voice was sharp when I began but at the end, it almost cracked, the image of running away from him after he proposed in a way that was just so Eric… I wanted nothing more than to curl back up in my bed and cry – and almost never cried.

 “Right.” Marcus raised one eyebrow, clearly not believing me. Aligning the sheets of paper on his desk until they were in a neat stack, his voice was reprimanding as he spoke after a few moments, his unnervingly blue eyes making me feel vulnerable – as if I was nude in front of him. “One thing you have to know, Casey. We don´t take lightly to adultery.”

 Silence, then…

 “Adultery?” I exclaimed unbelievingly sure I had misunderstood him. There was no way in hell… “How…. What?!... I´m not even married!”

 "And if you won´t stop these escapes you may never be." The audacity. Fueled by rage I jumped up, the chair almost topping over by the sheer force of my movements. Right now, I didn’t give a fuck where I was or who he was.

Still, I held back. I dauntless his jaw would already be broken, shattered in at least three places. No one fucked with me like that.

 “With all respect, Sir,” I spat, voice shaking with the force of my anger, the form of address just mocking the title he would never deserve in my eyes. “I don´t think my love life is supposed to be any of your interest.”

 "Well, if your lack thereof isn't proven you may be right. Because then, unfortunately, you will no longer be a part of our initiation.”

 I froze, his words making my whole body run cold. Factionless was worse than death, definitely worse than this and I suddenly realized that the bastard in front of me had all right and all the power to throw me out right now, just for my outburst alone not to mention the act of intercourse he hopefully knew nothing about. But looking at him, I realized he at least had a strong presumption as to what had happened last night.

I let out a shaky breath.

 “If you calmed down enough, you may sit down again so we can discuss your options.” Marcus stayed calm, his expression not once betraying what he thought of my performance and I only nodded, silently taking my seat, the white-hot rage diminished by the ice running through my veins.

“Thank you.”

 Too afraid to blurt out what I really wanted to tell him in the most elaborate version, I kept my mouth shut, waiting for Marcus to go on and he did, all business as he pulled out a record, flattening on the desk in front of him. Folding his hands, he watched me over the rim of his fingers.

 “I understand that you may still have problems fitting in here but acting on impulses will only get you in more trouble than you´re already in.” I bit my cheek until I tasted blood, refraining myself from telling him that he had no idea what he was talking about. “And because you´re new and showed today that you are a reliable force, I will overlook this unfortunate incident for once. But –” Raising his eyebrows at me, he interrupted my relieved exhale and I tensed again, the expectant expression on his voice promising nothing good.

“you will still serve your punishment – even though I would consider it more of a chance for you to get used to the humble life we´re living here.” He gave me a smile. “ You know how much of a busy man I am, so I along with other members decided it would be good for me to have an… assistant of sort, if you want to call it that. And that´s where you come into play." Marcus watched me expectantly and even though it sounded like an offer, in reality, it was a command.

 I gulped, sensing where this was heading and continued gnawing on my raw cheek. The prospect of working with Marcus for the whole four weeks of initiation – and maybe even after – were nauseating… but wasn’t that my chance?

Wasn’t this exactly why I was here, to get closer to him, win his trust?

If, then I had just come my goal a lot closer –  and with that my freedom.

 An anxious feeling grew in my guts, working under the leader of the government meant I had to attend meetings with leaders from all factions but it was basically the perfect opportunity for me so I swallowed down my inhibitions, looking him into the eyes.

 “What would I have to do?”

 “Well,” Leaning back in his chair, Marcus folded his hands in front of his stomach. “ for the last four years, since the person that run the household… resigned, there has been a number of members who helped clean and brought meals whenever I ate at home. That would be your field of duty but since I need someone here and occasionally for notes in meetings, too, you would also accompany to those.”

 "So I would basically cater to your every whim?" I slipped with my words without noticing but when I tried paddling backward, he just chuckled.

 “I´m a man who is easily satisfied, Casey, which you will soon know.” My skin started to crawl, the sentence too suggestive for my liking. Not noticing my disgust, Marcus sat up straight again, laying his hands on the desk.

 “Of course, Sir.” I gave him a tight, insincere smile, slowly getting off my chair since I had the feeling that this ‘meeting’ had come to an end. “Is that all.”

 “I think so.” He replied, already absorbed in the report lying on his desk, not sparing me another glance. Nodding to myself, I awkwardly turned around ready to flee the room. But Marcus seemed to have changed his mind and I froze on my spot, turning around with a questioning look.

 “Casey, one last thing: I can´t trust you not to leave through the window again, even though you surely learned from your mistakes you won´t be staying in the dorms for the duration of those four weeks.” He reminded me of the principle who always liked to call me into his office, expressing his displeasure towards my actions, sitting in front of the sturdy desk like that, not fully giving me his attention but expecting mine.

 “And where am I supposed to go?” I asked alarmed, ice running through my veins, afraid he had changed his mind and let me fail initiation after just one day. I´m sure that would be some sort of record.

The patronizing smile on his face didn’t help to relieve my unease.

 “Since we will be working closely together and I have two free rooms in my house you will stay in one of those. That way it will be easier for me to keep an eye on you.” For a second, my world stopped spinning as I stared at him, unbelieving until it started turning again, faster and faster until I had the feeling I was losing my footing, slipping right of the edge, just floating in space, being drowned by moonlight.

 “Won´t that be unseemly for me to live with you alone, Sir?” My voice was slightly hysterical even though I tried my best not to show any emotions. It was one thing to work closely with Marcus Eaton but living with him? No, no fucking way.

Eric was an excellent judge of character, he hated the leader of our government and I trusted him, trusted the only man I ever loved.

But seeing the serious expression he wore, the warning for me to keep myself in line I knew there was no way out of this hell.

Maybe never.

 "I´m one of the most highly regarded members of this faction and I sadly have too much to do to take care of my household on my own," Marcus spoke, his voice coolly and tolerating no dissent. “You living with me will be a win-win situation for us both Casey. I will show you how to master the act of selflessness and you provide me with your assistance in whatever I may need. You will see, many would be honored to be in your position.

You have ten minutes to get your clothes, then we will leave together.

Hurry,” He said without glancing up from his paper. “letting others wait for you is selfish.”

By the time, I arrived at the dorm, I was furious, fuming, but I was also aware of the fact that one more transgression would mean Marcus would throw me out into the streets. Maybe the girl from earlier would give me back my clothes even though it was not likely. Once they had something in their hands they would let go only over their dead body.

 Throwing the door open, I marched into the room ignoring the two´s shocked faces and Susan who jumped off her bed, her face contorted into worry I knew now was fake. She took a hesitant step forward, wringing her hands violently as she looked up at me with her doe eyes. Shooting her a glare, I walked right past not even bothering to acknowledge her existence. But she obviously didn’t get the memo that I wanted nothing to do with her, walking after me.

“Casey, listen, I – “ Whirling around, I took two quick steps towards her getting right into her face. My eyes were blazing with fire and she flinched back obviously afraid. Good.

 “Let me tell you something, Susan.” I spat, dragging my gaze over her, disgusted. “That innocence act doesn’t work on me. So take your misplaced sense of moral and shove it up your ass. Where I came from, you don´t snitch on people.”

 “Casey, I´m really so-”Sneering at her, I turned towards my former bed and grabbed the handful of stuff I had been given, wanting nothing more than to get out of here. But when I turned around she was still in my way, looking all doe – eyed as if she couldn’t hurt a fly. But I knew better.

 “Go. To. Hell.” Slamming my shoulder into hers, I left the stifling atmosphere of the room with a few wide strides, sending the two gawking bitches a glare that made the red-head, Grace, fall from her bed with a loud squeal.

Rolling my eyes, I refrained myself from throwing the door shut because it would have been heard throughout the whole headquarters, leaving it wide open instead as I made my way to the front door, (im-)patiently waiting for my tormenter to come lead me into my personal hell.

 Obviously, letting people wait wasn’t selfish for our great leader because I had to wait over half an hour until he arrived, walking with Andrew Prior, who I recognized as a man on the council, obviously discussing leader business. They were so engrossed in their topic that they only realized I was standing in their way when they were right in front of me.

 “Casey. Good, you´re here.” Marcus exclaimed with a small smile, gesturing for me to follow as they walked out of the building completely disregarding my existence as I trudged after them. Staring at their backs, hands full of clothes, I asked myself if they ignored me because I was an initiate – or because I was female.

Prior seemed to be alright but in the short time, I knew Marcus he got creepier with every minute I spent with him. With men of power, you never knew.

 Feeling low, I was sort of happy when we finally arrived at Marcus´ house that resembled a big slab of concrete, like every single house in the abnegation district, and he stepped in first, turning on the light to expose a minimalistic furnished hallway leading towards the living room. He gave me a short tour of the downstairs, only consisting of the living room, a kitchen and dining room, everything held in grey. Even the holding cells in dauntless were more appealing.

 Leading me upstairs he showed me the bathroom and with horror, I realized that I would have to share it with him but Marcus was fast to reassure me I wouldn’t see as much of him as I had feared.

 “I mostly leave the house between 6.30 and 7 am.” He explained, slowly pushing open the door to the room I was supposed to stay in. “You have to report at the headquarters every day at quarter to eight, so if you get up early enough you can do the chores before breakfast or just after noon. In the mornings, you will mostly assist elderly members or those who need help, while most afternoons will be spent with council meetings and errands I need you to run. If you ever should end up in dauntless, I expect you to behave to our standards.”

I nodded, showing him that I had understood his warning and he went on, pulling a wrist watch out of his pocket.

“You can have this one, your alarm is already set for 7.15.”

 Taking it cautiously as if it could bite, I said a small thank you before fastening it on my wrist, having to use the last hole to clasp it shut.

"Have a good night." Nodding once, Marcus left the room and for the first time this day I felt like I could breathe, the solitude refreshing. Whenever I was forced to be around people 24/7 I got so grumpy, even their breathing annoyed me. Changing into my new, clean nightgown, I scrunched up my face, disgusted that I couldn't take a shower tonight. But with Marcus right down the floor, it would have to wait until tomorrow morning when he was gone.

 I realized with a start what this meant: that I was more than just lucky.

Not only had I a room all to myself, I was alone in this house almost every day, meaning that I had enough time to search for the evidence Jeanine wanted to eliminate her strongest opponent. But what if he hid them in his office?

The meetings… he surely would have me by his side in the afternoon, filing in reports of some sorts. He´d just have to leave the room for ten minutes max. With that, I could work.

 Letting myself fall back onto the bed that was more comfortable than the ones in the dorms, I smiled my first genuine smile since I arrived here, knowing that the goal that seemed so far away was manageable for me, that I could protect my family and everyone dear to me.

The only reason why I made my sacrifice.

For them, for Eric.

 Eric… Knowing that I may be able to be back in his arms again sooner than I thought, I allowed my thoughts to drift to last night, the way his muscles had rippled against my bare skin, his hand on my throat, his member inside me… My hand slowly wandered downwards, bunching up the white fabric from my calf up to my tight until my fingers lightly skimmed the waistband of my panties, slipping under the unspectacular fabric, finding what they were searching for.

Slow, light circled turned faster and harder as they mirrored our favorite movements, the images of Eric surging through my head. Him shirtless, sweating after a notorious workout of his, nude, chest glistening with tiny water droplets as he stepped out of the shower, fingering me under the table while my brother was sitting opposite of us, or just the way he growled my name as he released inside me, his whole body rigid in pleasure as I writhed beneath him.

 That was all it took and I came, his name just a breathless whisper on my lips, my climax bringing me just a fraction of the pleasure that racked my body yesterday. And still, it was enough.

Curling up into the grey blanket I turned to my side and soon sank into blissful sleep.

Somehow my chapters seem to get shorter each time… but after dropping that bomb on you I think it´s enough.. I also wanted to post another one since it has been three weeks since chapter two..

I´m not expecting that you like where this is going but I still hope you like the story itself :D I´m a little blown away by the response, the first chapter already has over 100 notes on tumblr, so thank you to everyone who liked/ reblogged & reviewed the chapters, it means so much to me! :) 

[hotspotsmagazine]

Smokin’ and Unfiltered: Toni Braxton Talks New Album

When you have seven Grammys and an iconic voice that can drop to ocean depths, it’s your God-given right to also have a no-wings-in-my-dressing-room policy. This is Toni Braxton in 2018, still decrying the existence of pungent food in her midst before a concert. But sex? Cigars? Alkaline water? Unbreak Ms. Braxton’s heart with any of the above.

While talking up her first solo album in eight years, Sex & Cigarettes, the 50-year-old R&B diva was in tell-all mode, whether the topic of discussion was the current generation’s outspoken female artists, the Mariah and Janet duets that might’ve been (thanks a lot, bankruptcy and babies!), or the secret — hint: nose job — behind hitting those famous notes.

That album cover, Toni. You’re on fire.

Thank you. I feel good about it. You know, I was hungry while I was doing that. That was a little hard. But I love the album cover. I thought [photographer and director] Randee St Nicholas’s choice of lighting was really superb.

How would you describe your mood there?

It’s self-explanatory with that title: I’m feeling like sex and cigarettes. I feel sexy, like I need a puff afterwards.

You puff?

I smoke cigars once or twice a year. Every year for my birthday I do, and sometimes around the holidays. Smoking is not my friend, with lupus and all, but you have to have a vice or two. A nice stogie, something I can chew. Something really hardy.

You’re known for the deep end of your range, so a few puffs can’t hurt.

My voice is naturally smoky. But when I do the cigars, it’s for my birthday, and I try not to work on my birthday. If I do [work], after my show I do a little puff-puff. Not a puff-puff-pass!

Some commenters on social media aren’t keen on what you’re wearing on the album cover. One wrote, “We as older women have to set an example for younger women.”

Oh, that’s cute. It doesn’t really bother me. I think if you look good, you can wear it. Any age. For me, personally, I don’t wear midriffs. I think I’m too old to wear midriffs. To each his own. It’s just me, my body shape, I’m sure. But I work hard on my body — not just because I’m older, because I like to be in great health. And it’s OK for people to have their opinion. I have my opinion, too, on things that I probably shouldn’t. But I would never post it.

Can you talk about the pressure on you and other women to dress and look a certain way? Have those industry expectations changed with age?

Gosh, you know, I feel forever 25. It’s kind of weird. Parts of me are 25. Probably. [Laughs.] I feel good about myself. In this industry, I would be disappointed if women [tried to tell other women how to dress]. I mean, guys don’t know, but women — we should embrace each other. I look at Madonna; she’s still doing it, and Madonna’s almost 60. Who cares? Or look at me, Janet [Jackson] or Halle Berry. We’re all in the same group. So, I think it’s all about how you feel about yourself. I like that now people look younger than their age. I think that people today really see people; they’re thinking [about] age less and aren’t thinking numbers. Numbers, to me, just determine how long you’ve been on the Earth. But I’m OK with it. The women’s movement, to me, is great. I’m excited about that part.

Yeah?

I’m really excited about that because my generation in the ’90s, when I peaked, when my career was at its height, we were taught to be a little aloof. You had to be mysterious. The younger generation, which I love, they’re my favorite because they speak as loud as they want. They’re like, “We will not be missed.” Rihanna, she’s my favorite. I just love that about the new generation. It’s just nice to live your life out loud.

How are the #MeToo stories resonating with you?

I think it’s good, I think it’s about time. It doesn’t only affect women, though. I mean, I’ve heard guys who’ve been in situations where they can say “me too,” but guys feel like they can’t say it. I like that people are [now] able to speak out about things that have happened to them, like, “We’re not having it anymore.” But as a woman, I’m proud of my species.

Do you have a #MeToo story?

I don’t have a #MeToo story, thank goodness. I have close friends who have stories. Most of them have chosen not to talk about it because they have kids, and they’re like, “It’s behind me, but it happened to me too.” But I’m very lucky that I don’t have any stories like that.

Going back to the elusiveness of ’90s artists: Did that stop you from being yourself?

Early on I was allowed to be myself and express myself through fashion. I always kind of pushed the envelope on my sexuality. I think it’s definitely different rules for women, compared to rules for guys. And we had to ride the wave a little bit, the women of our generation; if we said anything, we were being a bitch. Of course now it’s just a term of endearment: “That bitch is hot.” And even now the word “diva” is coming back in style, and it’s OK to be a diva. It’s a great moment to be a girl.

Are you a diva?

Oh, all of us are sometimes, absolutely.

What are you most diva-ish about?

I am very, very particular about my [set up] when I go on stage. I don’t like having to adjust my mic when I start performing. I think it’s tacky. Instead of starting off singing, you gotta adjust your mic because they think you’re 5′6″. I’m 5′1″ and three-fourths. You would think my people would know that, but sometimes they forget.

That doesn’t seem like too much to ask. It’s not like you’re requesting a specific brand of water.

Well, I’m particular about that, too, sometimes. As long as it’s high alkaline, [I’m OK], but I think the world is about that water now. But they know that, so they get it. I don’t really have this big rider [I attach to my contract for a performance]. I don’t have anything like that. But I don’t like food in my [dressing] room. Do not have food in my room! I do not want to go on stage smelling like food.

About Sex & Cigarettes: I hear a lot of people have different takes on the title of your song “Deadwood,” and are asking you, “Toni, why is the wood dead?” Why do I have a hunch these people might be your gay friends?

[Laughs.] Yes, they are.

Tell me more.

They were asking me that! But it’s just an appropriate title! I know what deadwood is; I lived in Maryland. And being in the suburbs, as kids, you would see the wood and kick it. “Don’t bring that deadwood in the house.” So, for me, it makes sense and it’s something you just disregard and throw away. You didn’t care about it. But a lot of people were asking me, “Why the wood dead?” And I guess they’ve got a point.

You told me once that your gay boys make you a better girl.

It’s so true. Sometimes I forget to be a girl; I forget to keep it feminine. But my boys remind me to be a girl, to be fabulous about it: “Why are you standing like that? Why are you standing with your shoulders down?” The little things. They just remind me to be a girl. I love it.

The cover of your debut album, with your short hair, denim and that leather jacket, wasn’t exactly your most femme moment.

That is true. That’s kind of the ’90s — when it was still coming off the ’80s. It was a bit more pookie then.

Do you have a gay posse you have to consult before you release new music?

It’s more about my look. My boys usually get my look together for me. I have height envy: I like a particular type of shoe so I can be taller. And they’ll go, “We have to find something [else] that will give you height because those platforms are out. Stop wearing those.” But I wanna be 5′6″. I try to keep it taller and keep current. But they say: “You gotta be ahead of the season, Toni. You can’t do that. We should do this look. OK, we’ll let you [wear] that little thing because that’s kind of indicative of who you are as an artist, so we’ll give you that one dated thing.” They keep me up with the times.

What was the last really dated thing you couldn’t live without?

I wear sweatsuits with high-heeled shoes all the time. You’ll never catch me in a sweatsuit without a high-heeled shoe. I’ll never wear sneakers unless I’m going to the gym.

2018 marks your 25th year in the music business; your first album was released in 1993. I was a little gay boy when I bought it on cassette tape.

You did not say cassette tape. That’s taking me back.

What don’t people know about the making of your debut?

Well, it was just before I got my nose job. Might be too much information, but yeah: We hadn’t finished the album, so I was singing with a fresh nose job, which [was] virtually impossible because it hurt so bad. I don’t know how they do nose jobs now; I think they do it from the inside. Well, [mine] was from the inside too, but you had to wear this little thing on it, and after they took it off, it was so sore. You can’t hardly move the skin between your nose and lips, and I remember it was really difficult to sing.

Did it become easier to hit the high notes or the low notes after the nose job?

The high notes got easier. I had rhinoplasty, but I also had sinus surgery. I know, everybody says that! But it’s really true. Mine was a nose job, but I lucked out, and my doctor fixed my sinuses as well. I didn’t go in there for my sinuses — no. I went in to get my nose fixed, and they also fixed my sinuses. So, I’m telling the truth. Truth: I went in for a nose job. OK, pumpkin?

What else?

The jeans [on the cover] were really too big for me, and they were pretty much cabled in the back. That was a true story. So many little tidbits I could tell.

Why did we get a Whitney and Mariah duet and never a Mariah and Toni duet?

You know, Mariah reached out to me about doing a duet, but unfortunately, it was just before the bankruptcy was gonna happen [Braxton filed for bankruptcy in 1998, and again in 2010], but no one in the world knew. So when she asked me about doing a song together, immediately I wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t because of what was about to unfold.

Why aren’t you calling her right now?

I’m gonna have to do that. There was talk of me and Janet doing a song together, but she was pregnant. But, hey, maybe me and Mariah. We were neighbors for a second, so I probably should’ve reached out to her then, but it’s never too late. You’re actually gonna spark me to maybe talk to her about doing a remix or something. That’s actually a really good idea.

What advice would “Sex & Cigarettes” Toni have for the Toni of 25 years ago?

“Sex and Cigarettes” Toni would tell the Toni of 25 years ago to have more sex and smoke more cigars and have fun. And don’t be afraid to be a bitch.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2018/04/11/smokin-and-unfiltered-toni-braxton-talks-new-album/

[cynthiajayusa]

Kelly Clarkson Talks Artistic Liberation, Confronting Anti-LGBT Parents

During her 15-year career as your friendly pop spirit-lifter, Kelly Clarkson has prescribed a cheap alternative to therapy: anthemic pick-me-ups like “Since U Been Gone” and “People Like Us,” songs that impel a transcendental, fist-raised state.

Late-night Facebook Live sessions are also her thing, and recently, the American Idol alum geeked out like she’d just won “Idol” all over again about her soulful rebirth, Meaning of Life, released on her new label, Atlantic Records. It was just Clarkson chillin’ on the couch with a glass of red wine that was much deserved, considering the artistic sacrifices she had to make post-“Idol,” when she felt creatively stagnate as a Top 40 machine for RCA Records. But aside from a fat glass of red, Clarkson has other strong urges too.

Due, in part, to her simply being so damn cool, Clarkson – who drowned the world in their own tears right along with her own as she was crowned the inaugural “Idol” winner in 2002 – tells me she feels so compelled to stick up for her LGBT besties she literally wants to go door-to-door and talk some sense into her friends’ homophobic parents.

Because her friends ask her not to, she doesn’t. But here, with the ever-outspoken and now-artistically-liberated Clarkson leaving almost no opinion unturned, the Texas native makes that point loud and clear. Before getting back to being a mom to River Rose, 3, and Remington Alexander, 1, as well as husband Brandon Blackstock’s kids Seth and Savannah from a previous relationship, Clarkson spoke like one. Even her simple “diva” request – a “pretty dress to sing in” – is enough to make you wish you were on that couch with her and a bottle of Pinot.

Mariah, P!NK, Kesha – so many female artists have gone through the creative struggles you have.

Oh, every artist. It’s so not unique in any way.

How good does it feel to finally be yourself artistically?

It just feels freeing to make an entire project and, in its entirety, I’m 100 percent excited about it. There wasn’t any compromise. It’s how I feel the creative industry should feel. There’s nothing like working on something you’re so proud of.

Please tell me you at least got a little sloppy at a gay club to celebrate the end of your contract with RCA.

(Laughs) Brother, I got four kids and a career, I ain’t got time to go to clubs! I’m rockin’ a 1-, 3-, 10- and 16 year-old, man. You know what club I go to? The club of playing board games with my family…which, actually, I love.

Plus, you have your farm just outside Nashville. You’ve got chickens to raise!

We’ve got our chickens, our honeybees, and our orchard. We love our farm.

Have you sent RCA Records head Clive Davis a copy of the album?

(Laughs) Be like, “This is what I was wanting to do this whole time!” Yeah, no. (Laughs) You know what’s so sad: I was so excited to work with him. You have no idea. He worked with so many of my favorites: Janis (Joplin), and he worked with Bruce Springsteen way back in the day. All these artists who were very innovative in their time, and I was so excited. That’s been one of the saddest points for me in this industry – just figuring out that someone I really look up to just was not what they seemed. That was a pretty big blow. I was pretty sad about that. Like, we don’t always need to meet our heroes.

In some ways, your story of artistic suppression is relatable to the LGBT community. As an ally, do you recognize that affinity?

Talking with my gay or lesbian friends over the years, I can’t imagine. I’ve always said I can’t imagine not being able to be myself in and out. And, yes, while I can relate a bit musically to feeling like you’re going over massive hurdles to try and get to a compromise that you’re happy with, that’s nothing in comparison to hearing my friends talk about (being gay), especially in the South where I grew up, and then the faith thing comes into play.

I had one friend wait, and this is the saddest thing ever: I don’t think she ever felt comfortable in her skin because her parents were older. So, they passed away and then she finally felt free. I thought, “What a horrible feeling to have to wait until people aren’t around to be yourself.” I could never ever relate to that. I feel horrible that anybody has to go through that. It’s almost like when people ask me about other artists who have all these shticks about them and I’m like, “Oh God that would weigh on me if I had to keep that up, if I had to keep doing shit to make everyone happy.”

Walking onto the stage in, like, a pretty dress to sing, that’s really the extent of my diva, or just my experience on the stage. I’ve always just been very simple. Even in situations, musically, where I really had to fight or jump through hoops, I still was able to be myself, which I think people didn’t like because I was very open. But I have to do that. I have to express myself. Literally, I would go in such a downward spiral of depression if I weren’t able to, and that’s why, honestly, a lot of friends, especially who are gay and lesbian, felt that way. I pray to God my children never have to feel that, that people around me don’t have to feel that. I always hope that I’m always the one person going, “If they’re upset about it, screw it. It’s your life. You can’t “not” be you. You can’t suffer just because you’re trying to make somebody else happy. That’s not a life.”

That sounds exactly like something Kelly Clarkson would say. And I wonder, as someone who has this large, far-reaching platform, what does it mean to you to be an LGBT ally, and when did you know you had the power to be one?

I always laugh at the concept that people are like, “We just love what you say; that’s why we love you,” and I’m like, “Why is everyone not like that?” That’s what boggles my mind. Why would you not say what you want to say?

(In our last interview you) asked me if my daughter or son, or any of the four, ended up being gay, how would I take that, and I’d be like, “Awesome!” Honestly, in a world that is so hateful sometimes, I don’t care where my kids find love. Hopefully with a loving and respectful and kind person, but I don’t care if they’re a boy or a girl. It just doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me.

I do want my children to fall in love with people who are loving, but I feel like our priorities are silly-ass backwards. Like, I want to go to my friends’ parents who just don’t want to talk about it. They know, but are like, “We just can’t talk about it,” which is so demeaning to their (children’s) existence. And I want to knock on their door – I don’t, because (my friends) ask me not to (laughs) – and be like, “Do you know you’re missing out on an exceptional human because you can’t get past your own ignorance? It’s just silly to me that you want to miss out.” I want to tell them, “I didn’t have a dad and it had nothing to do with me being gay – it had to do with, he was a shitty guy. And you have the opportunity now to not be that parent and embrace your child. That’s your DNA. You love your children. What’s wrong with you?” It just makes me so mad, more so than anything.

This past June, you helped two gay fans get engaged during one of your meet-and-greets.

Oh my gosh, it was exciting. But I was nervous! Like, what if he was gonna say no?! (Laughs)

How would you live that down?

Literally, before I was like, “Wait. I do not want to be put in this situation where this guy might say no. Are you sure he’s gonna say yes?” And he goes, “Well, I hope so!” He was nervous. I probably didn’t help any. (Laughs)

Do you hope gay couples just start routinely getting engaged in front of you?

I was like, “I need to get ordained!”

For the sake of gay couples everywhere, why are you not?

I don’t know if that would be authenticated! I don’t know if people would question that! One of our friends – my husband also manages Blake Shelton – was like, “I wanna marry y’all” and I was like, “I want it to be, like, credible. You don’t actually have a following, or a church!

I have a feeling people would go to the Church of KC. 

Oh, Lord, that would be a funny church.

So, as much as I love talking about music, it’s hard not to acknowledge the screwy state of the world during interviews these days.

Yeah, everything is obviously impacted by it.

How are you? I know you’ve always stood up for what you believe in, but in this politically divisive climate, do you feel an even greater responsibility to stand up for the things that are important to you?

The hard thing for me, specifically: I always hate when people bring up, “Oh, you’re a celebrity, you shouldn’t have an opinion.” The hard thing in that for me is, I’m not just that. I’m a mother, I’m a daughter, I’m a woman. And it took a long time and a lot of women to pioneer that way for me, to even have a voice. So, for me to not use that is so disrespectful to those before me who worked so hard for it. For me to not take advantage of that seems like a cruel irony.

Why would I not voice my opinion as a mother? Why can’t I say this is a really hard time to have a 10- and 16-year-old, guys? Because I don’t know what to tell them when they hear certain things on TV.  They’re smart enough to know what’s going on. I can’t hide them from that. So, it’s a very hard time to explain things away. It’s a very hard time to have the discussion about any kind of bigotry or racism or elitism. It’s a very hard time because a lot of things are happening that are making crazy, insane, irrational moments normal, and it’s a very hard time to raise kids in that environment. Forget me even being a celebrity. As a mother – just as a mother – it’s a very hard time.

I’m glad, at least, that everything is all coming to the forefront because it’s now pointing out – like, I had no idea we had white supremacists. I have never come across people like that. Not even as a child in a small town in the South, and even then, that town has blossomed and they’re more progressive now.

It’s 2017 – why are we still having these conversations? But we’re having them because they do exist, and it’s insane. It’s insane that somebody just doesn’t go, “Oh, I’m sorry, but yeah, we don’t want that here. You should go somewhere else. This is a country of many cultures, many faiths, and open-mindedness. That is why people came here.” It’s amazing to me that we just don’t have grown-ass men and women in the public eye of politics going, “Absolutely not. I’m not even having this conversation because that’s not even OK. There’s no way to validate what just happened.”

Reflecting on all your work for RCA: Which album are you most and least proud of?

The album I’m most proud of in that whole section is the Christmas album (2013’s Wrapped in Red), and that’s just because it was 100 percent me. It was Christmas and it was OK for me to make decisions (laughs). They let (producer) Greg (Kurstin) and I do whatever we wanted, so it was a lot easier to accomplish my goal with that album.

My least favorite? Man, I mean, maybe my least favorite was my first one (2003’s Thankful). I just say that because of the experience. I was very young and very excited about making a record. It was my first time doing all of that, and it was also my first time realizing, “This is gonna be really hard because there are so many cooks in the kitchen and they don’t care that you’re not allowed to be one.” It was my first experience in the industry going, “Oh, wait, this isn’t what I thought it was gonna be like.” So my ignorance led to that and me being young and excited, I guess. Not that I don’t love the album – it’s just that I didn’t love finding that out.

Do you ever get tired of singing your first single, 2002’s “A Moment Like This”?

I never sing it! Because the song wasn’t meant for me – it was meant for the winner. I never would’ve been like, “This is a great record” (laughs). I get the moment it was for. That was the perfect song for that moment. I totally address that, but that song doesn’t fit in my tour setlist.

It still takes me back every time I hear it.

Totally. The nostalgia. For me too. It was a beautiful moment. I’m very thankful and blessed for it. But it wasn’t a song that was meant for me. They just wrote it for whomever was gonna win, so that doesn’t make me feel special. (Laughs)

With Meaning of Life, your hair on the album cover is giving me some serious Mariah vibes.

That Drew Barrymore-to-the-side-’90s vibe, yeah – it’s completely calculated. (Laughs) I literally was like, “I want the hair for this album to be talking to God.” It fits with the record. It’s so sassy and confident and diva in the best sense, and so I really wanted that ’90s hair. All my inspiration photos were of ’90s hair. Whether it’s the artwork or the music, everything on this album is influenced by the ’90s, which was my favorite time in music.

From “Since U Been Gone” on through “People Like Us” and “I Have a Dream,” your anthems have been empowering to LGBT people. What song on this album do you hope becomes the next big gay anthem?

It’s always my gay boys who come up and go, “Oh my god, I love ‘Whole Lotta Woman.’” And it’s so funny, because I’m like, that is so ironic and amazing! (Laughs)

Based solely on the track’s name, not even the fact that it’s a celebratory anthem, you can’t possibly be that surprised.

(Laughs) Honestly, I didn’t think about it! But then we performed it impromptu at the “Today” show just for the audience there in New York – not for the televised show, just for the audience – and it was so funny because all the gay boys were dancing more than anyone, even more than the women! It was so fun. It’s such a fun audience that just loves sass and confidence, and I just love being surrounded by an audience with that kind of energy.

That song definitely shut downs, once and for all, your social-media shamers. What advice do you have for LGBT people who experience the bullying that you’ve experienced?

We have a 16-year-old girl and a grown-ass woman was being horrible to her. She was just being hateful and passive-aggressive online and I had to be real with (my daughter). I said, “This is gonna happen so often, so this would be a good time to learn to take the high road. Block them or whatever you want to do to not see it, if you don’t want to see it.”

Bullying is gonna happen, so we tell our kids, “That’s gonna happen. I can’t protect you from that. There’s nothing we can do about that. There are no bullying cops.” It’s an epidemic that’s horrible and it needs to be addressed, but at the same time, when you have kids coming to you, I just have to teach her to rise above it.

It’s one of those things I always describe to fans, too, in meet-and-greets because they always ask, “How are you so confident?” It’s because, at the end of the day, I really don’t care about anyone’s opinion but mine and the people I know who love me and really do want the best for me. You can’t base your entire existence and every decision off how people are gonna feel about it. That’s a giant check list; there’s a lot of us. (Laughs) So, just be happy with your decisions, and sometimes know you’re gonna be successful and sometimes you’re gonna fail. And whatever. At least you were steering your ship.

source https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/11/30/kelly-clarkson-talks-artistic-liberation-confronting-anti-lgbt-parents/ from Hot Spots Magazine http://hotspotsmagazin.blogspot.com/2017/11/kelly-clarkson-talks-artistic.html

[throwbacknotup]

//UnWired//

Esme wasn't always the girl who seemed a little unwired. She was a girl with darkness resting upon her pale shoulders with satire etched upon her skin. Her eyes electrocuted another with a fear of fear itself, but the girl wasn't dangerous. The girl was just scared. Light was what she craved. Yet, bad blood wired itself around her heart. A heart that was still beating.

                                                ��    Present

           His nails were gnawed down to stubs. His mat of hair obscured his bloodshot eyes from his mother's harsh stare. This was his fault.

          "Noah...," his mother desperately tried to wake him, "Noah! Get UP! Get out of bed! You need to start to get ready for today." She screamed at his desolate frame of meat and bones. Her frustration was turning to anger, and that anger was turning into her son's self-loathing. This wasn't his fault.

                                                   Rewind One Week

             Noah Thomas never really discovered what it was like to be risky. He never understood the point of his friends going out on the weekend to drink, when those drinks could potentially make them sick or even kill them. He never understood the need for speed, as he read about disgusting car crashes involving adrenaline junkies befriending the accelerator. He never understood what he was missing beyond his five foot eleven walls of caution.  But one day, those walls had a chance of being shattered.

           Friday. Early Autumn. The New York air was brisk. A torn piece of copybook paper was shoved between his lunch and his Psychology textbook in his locker with a message reading, “Meet me in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge at dusk." Start living or keep surviving? Hours of intense pacing later, he stood in the middle of Brooklyn Bridge at approximately 7 o’clock waiting for his nameless host. Rumors and stories about this notorious bridge flooded his memory. Fear wrapped her icy fingers around his wrists trying to pull him from the grasp of another girl.

                                                    Present    

           Noah stepped into the steaming shower. The water hit the back of his neck and crawled down his spine. No amount of soap was going to wash away what happened, but nevertheless, he lathered, rinsed and repeated. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

          "Wait, wait. Wait. Repeat, please? Sorry, I'm having a hard time focusing today... A lot on my mind," Noah's mom, Steph Thomas, said to her own mother, Margaret Thomas.

         "I said, 'You should think about gettin’ Noah checked out.' Like, by a psychiatrist or someone, Stephanie. Honey, listen. Listen, you can't try to straighten him out all by yaself. Ya need help. He needs help." Ms. Thomas sighed and said goodbye to her mother. She didn't want to admit her son's brain might've gone unwired into a catatonic state. She had too much pride to give up. She had raised him by herself all these years, and she wasn't going to let anyone barge in now.

                                                     Rewind

          “Huh, so you showed up,” her voice was cool and slightly surprised.

          Noah fidgeted away from the voice that came out of the dead air. He caught sight of dark flowing hair, gaunt features, and ashen skin coming out of the shadows. It was that girl, Esme. He never spoke to her in the past four years of high school. There were only whispers he knew about her. Her eyes daunted him. All he could see through the dark were two gray rings that had a look of hysterical panic and desperation. It was like she was trying to convince him of something, even though she hadn't said anything yet.

          She ignored the lack of conversation, “I invited you out to this splendid e-ve-ning to tell you My life story. The crazy tale about a screwed up girl. Almost was a spin-off series from those books about unfortunate events... and the old guy or whatever.”

         “I...um.. Uh, I don't understand,” he replied slowly as he scratched the back of his neck. He didn't want to admit it, but she was scaring him. “Why me?”

          “You don't know me. I need an audience. That audience needs to watch and listen without knowing who I am...or who they think I am. It just ruins any plot twists. Standard protocol,” she paused, “What do you think when you think about this bridge?"

           Was this a trick question? He felt uneasy, but answered anyway, "I think of cars. Like, transportation across a body of water. Heights? I dunno.. It's a bridge."

        “See. There it is. The first difference between you and me. You are black and white. Conventional. You see this bridge used for only it's initial purposes. To me? This bridge? This bridge is an adrenaline goldmine,” she smirked. No drumroll, she hoisted herself up onto the diagonal bars using the steel suspension crosspieces. Trying to keep her balance, she motioned for Noah to repeat her actions. He got a firm grip on the frigid bars and used his limited upper body strength to pull himself up onto the ultimate balancing beam. He gaped up at Esme seven bars up from the ground. His breath split once his brain caught up to his body, but he felt it. The rush. Was this what it felt like to be alive?

                                                       Present

       He felt dead. He slowly buttoned up the freshly pressed, starched white shirt, and tied and untied his tie seven times. Noah couldn't focus. He kept fumbling around trying to dress. A look in the mirror made him cringe back. Noah pitied him. When did this coward start looking back at him through the looking glass?

             Ms. Thomas was in the other room deliberating what to do about her current predicament. Should she take her mother's advice, or should she not give up on herself and Noah? How could she admit to herself that her pride and joy has a problem?

                                                        Rewind

           “I have a problem,” she stated. Finally, the adrenaline was running its last laps through his body. Esme continued, “I hunger for these unseen 180°s in life...Ya know what it's like..like when your life gives you like a little dose of turmoil to remind what it’s like to be alive. I’ve been waiting for a disaster to strike me so I could feel something, anything again.” She waited for his answer, but he didn’t have one, so she went on. “I am tired of not feeling.."

          “ Uh, um," he interrupted, “Can I ask… what happened to you?" She sat up abruptly turning away facing the dim lamps. The golden-toned light silhouetted her body revealing there was something tense about how she held herself.

            “It was September. Perfect weather. Still warm outside, but a lil bit of chill, ya know? I was four… Still had to sleep with my blankie at that time.. My parents already had left for work that day. Mom was the secretary for dad’s office… Family business, ya know. But, that day had a very important meeting scheduled on it, so they, like, had left me in the care of my neighbor to get me to school..."She exhaled and laughed. "I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on my neighbor’s face, when she picked me up early that day,” she took a deep breath and continued, “If you’ve ever seen any footage or documentary of 9/11, you’d know of the people, who jumped while holding hands. I don’t know whether my parents were those people, but I like to dream they were.”

              Noah could hear silence. It cut into his ears. She looked up to the sky, "I haven't had a family for over 14 years of my life. My foster homes took out more of my soul than my parents leaving initially did. I've learned to just not feel. You sort of get used to the numbness. It's like a drug."

               He was confused. What was he going to do with this information? Noah sighed and shook his head, "I….I don’t know what to say. I want to say sorry, but a thousand sorries could never replace your parents. But, well...  I just don't understand why I’m here, Esme. You need an audience. I get that. But I just don't get what I’m supposed to do as an audience member."

               Esme snickered, "You're trying to skip to the ending when what you seek was really in the beginning."

             "What? You don't know me I get it but-"

           "Not there. I didn't bring you here to help myself. I brought you here because there is a lesson you can learn from me too. Bridges have another meaning, as well." She grabbed his hand, "you'll understand sooner than you expect. Goodbye, Noah." And with that, she disappeared into the shadows. He wondered if Esme, herself, was a shadow.

                                                        Present

              There was a slight chill in the air as strangers processed from the burial site at St. Paul's Cemetery. Noah stood staring blank-faced at the roses scattered on top of the casket. Words, words, words. Unspoken words. He should've known this was going to happen. This was not the ending that he expected. A hand softly pulled back his shoulder, and a voice asked, "Are you, Noah? Hello, hi. I was.. I am. Esme's foster-mom, sorry... Sorry, She left this for you on her bedside table, here." The woman handed him a letter that read:

Noah,

        Don’t hold this little thing like death over your head. Please. It's something that needed to happen, and it's happening had nothing to do with you. I’m assuming you’re probably still confused on why you were even there that night. I need my story to be told. I trust a stranger more than someone I know. Knew… I’m not really sure what tense to write this in to be honest. That aside, Noah, you were affected (whether you like to admit it or not) by not having a father. (Yes, I did research on the stranger I was going to tell my story.) You aren't able to trust, to risk, to do anything at all... I want you to tell my story, because it's the right thing to do, but live your life, because you have to. You have seen first hand what not feeling does to a person. It caused me to do life-threatening risky things. It caused me to do one final risk to risk to try to help you. You went to the bridge that night. You climbed the bars. You listened to an insane girl. You have it in you to live a life worth living. Stop surviving. Stop going from day to day. Unwire yourself, because I know you have it in you to rewire. Create your 180°...for me.

                                                                                                                -Esme

        "Noah. Noah, I need to talk to you," Ms. Thomas shook her son for his attention, "I've thought a lot about it. Everything. I think it's best to get you some help. You need to work out some issues about what has happened, and I hate to admit it, but I just don't think I'm enough."

          He ignored her comment, "I need a pen and a piece of paper."

          Esme wasn't always the girl who seemed a little unwired. Loose ends must’ve given her the rush that she craved, but she wasn’t heartless. She wanted the loose ends to be tied up for those she cared about. She just couldn’t do it herself. Life had wired her to have a completely normal life, but life made an 180° turn. She had been cutting her wires ever since trying to create that next disaster to put her back on track. The last wire she had to cut was telling someone her story before she ended it.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Author: Noah Thomas