April 08, 2024, 07:34 PM
whenever you have time <33
she had never wanted to come back here.
she didn't think she would have, especially not now. when she left the bypass in her fit of resentment and anguish, she took time to collect herself; unbeknownst to her sister's search for her, she hunted what sparse prey was on offer to a yearling, moved with the flocks of birds and the temperate, salty air that blew in from the coast. it was freeing to be alone, responsible for no one. she'd never been alone! this was what she wanted!
she had the freedom to go anywhere, and yet here she was.
when she comes across the landbridge with the familiar silhouette of the island's shape off the coast, at first, she is filled with nostalgia. she sees simeon's face in her mind, hears his boisterous laugh as he splashes her with the current. mama sits with the brooding twins, one silently judging, the other curious but afraid; mama's eyes crinkle at the edges as she hums a soft hymn. gramma rests her aging bones on the beach, watching the tiny crabs and big brother psalm; john is there, too, and so is uncle everett, and — daddy.
the vividness of her vision fades to a dull monochrome as her feet touch the sand for the first time in half a year.
this place is so alien. it's nothing like she remembers — the trees are all the same, the tall sequoias bursting with greenery and the newly budding lavender, the smell of the salt and the loveliness of the hills —
but it is desolate. eerily so. the clouds hang low in the sky, and everything feels smaller than it used to. quieter. emptier. the lack of her family's scent fills her heart with a dread she had expected, but had not been entirely prepared for. she almost hoped it all would have been a dream, some awful, awful dream —
but then
as the tears sting her eyes and her head hangs between her elbows, she smells
something, someone
she almost vomits with how quickly the surge of adrenaline flows through her body. it's fake, her body is mistaking her, it must be, but it isn't and she realizes it as she draws closer to the lavender field, closer to the greenhills, closer to the mound of dirt now overgrown with fresh seagrass
oh my god
she can't see or hear him just yet, there is hardly even a speck of proof, but it is there! that tiny, tiny sliver of hope that she might find —
she didn't think she would have, especially not now. when she left the bypass in her fit of resentment and anguish, she took time to collect herself; unbeknownst to her sister's search for her, she hunted what sparse prey was on offer to a yearling, moved with the flocks of birds and the temperate, salty air that blew in from the coast. it was freeing to be alone, responsible for no one. she'd never been alone! this was what she wanted!
she had the freedom to go anywhere, and yet here she was.
when she comes across the landbridge with the familiar silhouette of the island's shape off the coast, at first, she is filled with nostalgia. she sees simeon's face in her mind, hears his boisterous laugh as he splashes her with the current. mama sits with the brooding twins, one silently judging, the other curious but afraid; mama's eyes crinkle at the edges as she hums a soft hymn. gramma rests her aging bones on the beach, watching the tiny crabs and big brother psalm; john is there, too, and so is uncle everett, and — daddy.
the vividness of her vision fades to a dull monochrome as her feet touch the sand for the first time in half a year.
this place is so alien. it's nothing like she remembers — the trees are all the same, the tall sequoias bursting with greenery and the newly budding lavender, the smell of the salt and the loveliness of the hills —
but it is desolate. eerily so. the clouds hang low in the sky, and everything feels smaller than it used to. quieter. emptier. the lack of her family's scent fills her heart with a dread she had expected, but had not been entirely prepared for. she almost hoped it all would have been a dream, some awful, awful dream —
but then
as the tears sting her eyes and her head hangs between her elbows, she smells
something, someone
she almost vomits with how quickly the surge of adrenaline flows through her body. it's fake, her body is mistaking her, it must be, but it isn't and she realizes it as she draws closer to the lavender field, closer to the greenhills, closer to the mound of dirt now overgrown with fresh seagrass
oh my god
she can't see or hear him just yet, there is hardly even a speck of proof, but it is there! that tiny, tiny sliver of hope that she might find —
@Judah?