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@all-the-muses-private​‘s Landery said, “You’re more like family to me than my own blood.”

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Compromised

Starter for @pages-and-words

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New Found Family

starter for @pages-and-words

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Regrets

Starter for @all-the-muses​ 

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The Secrets We Hold

Starter for @pages-and-words

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Instagram credit: __beanandbear__

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Madison sees the signs that her words have affected Enya, but it does nothing to ease her pain. She hesitates, unsure what to say, when what she wants to say would most likely be scoffed at. Hell, she would scoff too if someone told her they would have been willing to face interrogation - to face torture - if it meant knowing there was one more person close to their heart who was still alive.

But logically... logically, she knows Enya is right. Had it been only her, she would have put those thoughts into words, those words into actions. But it wouldn't have just been her they interrogated if it had come down to it. And she has siblings to protect. She couldn't have done that to them; not for her own selfish desires.

So rather than argue, Madison simply shakes her head once more, voice cracking as she speaks.

"I missed you."

"You let me think you were dead!"

Continued from x

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Arillia allows herself long enough to almost drift into sleep, but she shakes herself awake before it can happen, pushing herself to her feet as she mentally berates her lack of caution. The door may have been locked, but the window had still been open, and that could mean she wasn't the only one who'd chosen this house as refuge for the night.

Sliding her arm through the other strap of her bag, she moves towards the open door of what she now notices is a bedroom - a teenager's room, perhaps, based on the combination of stuffed animals and makeup.

She starts with the back of the house first, walking through each room, poking into closets, checking under any furniture tall enough to be considered a good hiding place. Every room she checks is clear until she reaches the living room. There, she stumbles to a halt, eyes catching the small figure curled up on the couch immediately as if drawn to the presence of another living thing.

A quick glance around the open area shows no sign of anyone else, and she knows she checked the other rooms well enough to be sure that this little girl has been left here all alone.

At first, Arillia is scared that the child may not even be alive, but as she creeps closer, she breathes a sigh of relief at the rise and fall of the girl's shoulders.

"Where is your family?" she asks softly as she crouches in front of the couch. There's no way someone left someone so small to fend for themselves like this, right? Not unless...

But a quick once over shows no signs of the infection that quickly kills and brings back to life. Maybe she was left here instead because her family were the ones near death. Or maybe they would come back for her.

Either way, Arillia knows that she can't just leave the child alone. But does she really want to wait around for someone to show up, who may not be all too friendly to a stranger in the same house as their little girl?

It's not the best option, but it's the only one she has right now. She bites her lip nervously as she reaches out to touch the little girl's shoulder. She feels bad waking her up, but she's been sitting here staring for way too long, and she'll feel like a weirdo if she keeps it up.

"Hey," she says softly, giving the shoulder a small shake.

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@withinkandquill Made me think of Enya and Madison 🥺

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Instagram credit: chaptersofshau

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Sue zhao/Ryan O'Connell

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“You’re not a kid anymore. You have the right to choose your own life. You can start again. If you want a cat, all you have to do is choose a life in which you can have a cat. It’s simple. It’s your right.”

— Haruki Murakami, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle

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““In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. - It goes on.” Robert Frost”

—

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Arillia was packing her bags when the world ended. She'd been bursting with excitement as she'd left college that morning, nearly stumbling as she hurried back to her dorm. Thanks to a lot of late nights and little sleep, she'd managed to get herself exempted from finals, so to celebrate, she was hopping on a plane that night to surprise her family with an early arrival. 

But then everything had gone wrong. Planes had crashed, power had failed, people had died. And now here she is: nothing but a backpack slung over her shoulder as she treks the three hundred miles that it'll take to get her to her family. 

She hasn't contemplated what will happen if she gets there and they're gone - or worse. She won't allow herself to contemplate it. Not when she has two hundred and fifty more miles to go. 

She glances up to the sky, frowning as dark clouds move further over the sun. She supposes she should be happy for a respite from the sun's rays, but night is already approaching; she doesn't need rain on top of it.

At least let it wait until I have a roof over my head, she prays to whoever's still listening. The answering rumble of thunder isn't very reassuring. 

She takes a slow, deep breath before hunching her shoulders against the approaching storm and takes a turn down another street in the neighborhood she’d decided to cut through. She’d learned pretty fast that the main roads and highways were not going to be her friend, some still full of cars trying to get out of cities while others were crammed bumper to bumper with crumpled and burning remnants of cars, swarmed by the dead and the others. The ones who had died, but hadn’t. 

The suburban areas weren’t always that much better. By now, Arillia had learned that her level of safety was hit or miss, but she’d quickly figured out how to avoid the ones still stumbling around, ready to attack whatever got too close or drew too much attention. 

So far, she hadn’t seen anything except for a few escaped pets running through this neighborhood. The poor things were so skittish, some whining, some growling, some begging for attention, some looking like they would bite your hand off if you even thought about getting closer. It’s a good thing Arillia isn’t much of an animal lover, but even still, the sight tugs at her heartstrings. Just more creatures whose world has been turned upside, wondering what’s happened to their families. She can’t help but wonder the same. Did their owners simply abandon their animals without a second thought? Or were they…

She shakes away the thought as she passes yet another cat crouched pitifully under a rocking chair on the front porch of a house whose front door had an empty hole surrounded by shards of glass rather than a window. A burst of sharp lightning is quickly followed by another rumble of thunder that seems to shake the earth beneath her feet, startling both her and the cat into movement once more. 

“Shit,” she hisses as she feels the first spatters of raindrops touch her skin. She really can’t afford to end up soaking wet. 

She looks around at each surrounding house until she catches sight of one with a window slightly ajar. When she runs over, the door is shut securely which gives her hope that nothing has been able to wander in. It’ll at least be good for a night. 

She moves over to the open window and reaches out to push it up just enough for her to climb through. The squeal of the frame moving makes her wince, her gaze darting around to make sure the sound didn’t alert anything to her presence, but she quickly climbs and pulls the window back down before she can think too much about it. 

She turns and presses her back to the wall, letting herself slide down to the floor just as the sky breaks open and a downpour begins. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes falling closed as she takes a deep breath. At least she has a dry place to wait out the storm.

 @solivaggant

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“When I was young, I used to admire intelligent people; as I grow older, I admire kind people.”

— Abraham Joshua Heschel

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As the man crouches down in front of her, she presses against the woman’s leg a bit more, if that’s even possible. She doesn’t like strangers. She’s met too many of them with their soft voices and sad eyes only to leave her alone for her to like them. But the lady promised. This one is forever. It can’t be a lie if she says so. 

She slowly lifts a hand when he greets her, giving a little wave before her hand quickly clings back to the woman’s hand. At his question, she shakes her head. 

“Not something else,” she says immediately, her brow wrinkling with the passion in her small voice. She likes her name, thank you very much.

@xbless-this-broken-roadx​‘s Callum is told, “Meet your daughter.“