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[wheezyswheeloffortune]

Okay so I know not many fans of the NOES franchise are big fans of the 2010 installment, but I actually am and I think it might be because I saw the potential and what it was going for but more importantly what it could’ve been if they had just gone there.

And while I’ve got so many thoughts, ideas and rants about the movie and characters especially Freddy I wanna talk about a character who didn’t get enough screen time and doesn’t get enough love:

Kris Fowles.

Let’s start by saying I absolutely loved her character, I think Katie did so good and whoo boy can she scream. Kris is reminiscent of Tina Gray but is a separate character from her. They share small similarities and the biggest being that their characters were sort of fake outs for the real protagonist of the story, Nancy. But I think Kris was just as much a main character as Quentin and Nancy. Her boyfriend being the first to die really set her off, she was struggling to cope and convince herself that the visions and nightmares shared no connection to recent events but the further it went the more she began to uncover. Being the first to begin questioning her childhood and digging into her past, raising questions meant that she was far more intuitive and smart than the movie lets on.

She’s complex, emotionally mature and so gentle and it’s another thing I love about her character. She wasn’t stereotyped and watered down, the few scenes she had Kris owned and it made me love her and wish she played a bigger role. I wanted more of her dynamic with Nancy, to see their friendship and get a deeper understanding and feel for Nancy’s plight when Kris eventually dies. I know her character served a purpose and most of the time a big group in movies like this serve as a barrier between the big bad and the final boy or girl but I think Kris honestly deserved better.

She was strong and it was great to see her putting up such a fight against Freddy. Her realizing that maybe the dreams aren’t just dreams and that there might be something more to them was nice. Her classroom dream was cool too, and again, that SCREAM. Was kinda chilling when I first watched I won’t lie.

I loved the body bag scene in the hallway with Nancy too, for obvious reasons but it was nice that her character got to still make one last small appearance before we fully focused on Nancy and Quentin’s journey.

I don’t wanna think of Kris as a side character or even fake protagonist because I feel she really did play a big role in the movie it would’ve been nice to at least see her off til the end and then maybe she dies then.

I’m definitely gonna go through my other thoughts about the 2010 movie but I needed to ramble about Kris for a sec.

[wheezyswheeloffortune]

❛ That was…an ugly and sinister thing I did, but it wasn’t me. Not, really anyways–I’d never. I’d never hurt my little ones they mean the world to me I—❜

Fingertips coated in an ash like black sludge touched the reflective surface surrounding them, it was like water but stood still, upright sort of like a mirror. She could see her reflection so clearly and what stared back was a sickly looking woman, eyes devoid of any light or joy, skin pale and coated in beads of sweat. She’s reaching for something but what? Her mind becomes blurry, static reaching down into her core gripping the base of her spine ferociously while the outer shell begins to seize up. The being falls to her knees, what once was woman now barely recognizable beyond the fiery locks and piercing gaze.

Whatever remained of her was locked away in a chest far deep somewhere in her mind, she repeated the opening statement quietly hoping it would somehow reach the surface and her desperate attempts at clawing free from her prison would maybe work. But the primal urge for something far more important is what continues to drive her vessel forward. Something much bigger than her or anyone else around her.

A mother’s love is beautiful.

It is careful and kind, it is patient and attentive. It is all knowing and fierce like a lioness a mother would do anything to protect her cubs. She is watchful, vigilant, she is protective and a guiding light for her children for years to come. Even when she’s gone she never truly leaves because parts of her soul are sprinkled throughout their lives, her presence to remain a gentle stain on their person. Her love is a flower planted inside of her children meant to grow and flourish under her nourishment and care.

A mother’s love is—

❛ Beautiful. ❜

She whispers, eyeing the handmade coffee mug a pair of much smaller and dainty hands crafted with nothing but love in their heart as they did so.

❛ It’s beautiful. I think I’ll have my tea in this before bed. I’ll have all my teas in this mug. ❜

A promise an oath.

A mother’s love is haunting.

She lingers everywhere, she knows all. She sees you in this lifetime and the next. Mother can sense her child’s distress, their secrets, their wrongdoings, she is capable of unimaginable strengths and has sight beyond her eyes. A mother’s child never has to speak of their hurt she simply knows. She can blindly feel out the wounds and make them go away, she can dig out confessions, mend your broken hearts, she sees you whether you see her.

A mother’s love is—

Haunting.

Much like this pain, this fear of having nothing she carries in her heart is haunting. The memories, the tiny laughter and small hugs, the finger paintings and old pacifiers. Nerf guns and action figures left untouched. Empty beds and hollow echo chambers of her never ending guilt. She couldn’t protect them.

❛ I couldn’t save them… ❜

A mother’s love is terrifying.

She can become your worst nightmare if you will it. A mother goes to the ends of the earth to protect her children, there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do. Her gentle and caring hands can become weapons, her tongue once dripping with honey a poisonous dagger, her mind a cathedral filled with memories that fuel her rage. She can be a beautiful monster hiding in your closet just as she can be a watchful angel in your doorway.

A mother’s love is…terrifying.

❛ You couldn’t. But I–can. ❜

That twisted and disfigured monster holds out a hand to Mother. She is kind, and patient, she is warm and welcoming, like a mother should be but she burns with the fury of a thousand suns and her heart has hardened, her cathedral a prison. She knows Mother is scared but she wants to help. They want the same thing and Mother senses it. Mother knows…she knows what must be done and so she welcomes the monster with a warm embrace that becomes scorching hot, burning itself into her senses, tangling with her cells and fusing with her mind.

❛ Together we can save them. ❜

Mother allows the monster to invade her mind, to steal her memories and use them to guide them to their babies. Home. With their boys.

[wheezyswheeloffortune]

Have you ever stumbled upon a memory so deeply ingrained into your core that you almost feel silly recounting it? A memory that you shouldn’t have at all? Like the first time your mother ever uttered the words “I love you” or your first tooth? My core memory is the first time my feet ever touched sand, water washing them over and over until small specks caught between my toes that would then slip back into shoes that you take home with you, a simple reminder that She is everywhere.

I don’t remember the events of that day. I don’t even remember what I wore. I do remember, the smell of salt carried in the wind as it blew over my small head. The gentle droplets of water kissing my skin, I remember my mother holding my hand as my tiny mind dared to guide me closer to the big waters stretching out before me. She feared that I could get lost in the waves I suppose, slowly pulled out so far where no one could reach me. I was thrilled at the idea. I wanted adventure. My brother did too but he was bigger than me, so he could kiss the waves and hug the shores as much as he wanted. I wished to be bigger. I wished to kiss the waves and hug the shores.

Digging my feet into the sand was all I could do to withhold myself from intrusive thoughts. Mother would eventually carry me into the water. It was cold, waking every cell in my body sending adrenaline coursing through my veins, I laughed. I kicked and splashed and laughed until having to say goodbye until next time.

I can recall the emotions from that day. Emotions I believe carried over into my every day life. I remember sadness and calm washing over me all at once before settling into bed for the night and promising to myself that I’d return to that beach. To that moment.

Right now I am uncertain of how that memory would impact me. If it would break me or make me stronger. Anytime I close my eyes and began to replay it my mind is over taken by melancholy and dread. Dark clouds replace the partly cloudy and sunny skies, my anchor is gone and the wind has a much harsher bite to it. I talk to my ancestors at night. When the air is crisp and my surroundings are quiet. I look to them for answers, I search among them for familiar faces and when pulled back to reality, when I resurface I am disappointed to return empty handed.

I grasp blindly at waves hoping to pull from it a memory with you in it that doesn’t feel so bittersweet. Maybe one where we can coexist as I am now. With all of my flaws and all of my anger and regret, with my scars and doubts I hope that you will not look at me any differently than you had on that sandy shore where we created my most brain altering core memory. With my hands bruised and bloodied I hope that you’ll hold them with the same care and love as you had before.

I always wanted to be just like you.

But not in the ways you’d think. I could do without the weight of a crown, the burden of a kingdom on my shoulders and the whole world watching me. No I wished for your courage. I wanted my mind to be as pure and impenetrable as yours. To be calm as that ocean the day I watched you become one with its endless blue. I wished…to have a heart like a warrior, and the spirit of one too. There was so little time to learn from you, I fear now looking back on the years we spent together Black Panther. My brother.

I’ll always cherish the moments we stole, the time we took back and the days we spent kissing waves and hugging shores. I never quite felt big enough, even now, but you never made me feel small. You lent me your strength and fearless. You let go of my hand and allowed me to wade through deep blues on my own with the knowledge that I’d always return.

Like you. Like you always would. And when I watched you drift away, further and further until you were but a small spec in that endless ocean blue, I realized something awfully dreadful. You were supposed to return. And yet…you didn’t. I can only assume, that the waves were far too big for you this time.

filter creds; 616frost on insta!