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crack_van2004-08-03 08:29 pm
shutyourface.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-08-03 08:29 pm
Mysterious Ways by Dierdre - R
Fandom: POPSLASH - *NSLASH
Pairing: Chris/Joey
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Linda's Passions
Why this must be read:
It was hot. So hot.
The sun was something too big, too bright, like a monster, like a dragon her daddy had once read a story about, and it breathed fire like that dragon, burning the top of her head, her shoulders.
The air was hot, like when daddy, baking the good things to eat she never had any more, opened the oven door, so hot it made her lungs hurt as she ran, as hard as she could. She had to keep running, to get far, far away.
Tall yellow-brown grass whipped at her bare legs. Sweat stung her eyes, and her dark hair, stringy and dirty, stuck to her cheek, to her neck.
She tripped and fell hard, and for a minute she stayed there, coughing at the reddish dust that puffed up like a cloud as she'd fallen. Her legs hurt from running so far, and her chest hurt from breathing so hard, but most of all, her heart hurt because she was scared and wanted her daddy.
The man's voice called to her, calling her by that name, calling her Emily. She'd never be Emily, though, no matter how much he scared her. No matter how much the lady slapped her when she said it wasn't her name. She'd never be Emily. Never, never.
His voice came closer, and she pushed herself to her feet and ran again. Behind her, she heard him say bad, bad words, and yell at her to stop, to come back home because mommy was worried. She ignored him. This wasn't her home, and that lady wasn't her mommy, because she didn't have a mommy. It was just her and daddy. And this man, this scary man who said he was her new daddy, was a liar. Liar, liar, liar, because this man was thin and had mean blue eyes, and her daddy, her real daddy, was big and had a soft tummy and brown eyes like her own. This man yelled a lot and drank things that smelled bad. He never smiled like her own daddy, who smiled with his whole face and had a beard that tickled when he kissed her.
And she had never been afraid of her daddy. He'd never yelled at her, never kept her locked up in a hot, hot house, never kept her away from school, never kept her from her friends. The lady frightened her too, with her scary-looking eyes, calling her Emily, hugging her too hard, petting her too often, until she wanted to just scream and run away from being held too close by someone she didn't like and couldn't trust. They both told her that her daddy had given her to them, that he didn't love her anymore, but she knew that was a lie. Her real daddy had loved her, because he always said so, always kissed her and hugged her and sang to her. She knew he loved her and he would find her soon and take her back home.
The shed had become her hiding place, an old grey building almost falling down, the boards of the walls so far apart that she could see the whole big field through the cracks. It was full of spiders and squeaky little mice, but the lady was afraid of it, so it was her place to hide when she could sneak out.
She hid behind some old bales of hay and tried not to sneeze from the dust. The man was coming. She could hear his feet, in their big boots, running, hear the keys on his belt jingling. Reaching into the pocket of her old faded shorts, she pulled out the hair ribbon she'd kept hidden for all the time the people had kept her. It was pink, grubby from her fingers stroking it every night before she went to sleep, dirty from keeping it hidden from the lady. The lady had found it today, had screamed and cried and tried to take it away, but she'd snatched it out of her hands and had run.
It was all she had left, a hair ribbon her daddy had given her. In darker pink writing, it had her name, her *real* name, almost rubbed off from her touching it. She could spell it, but never wrote it around the lady and the man, because it made them so angry. The lady had wanted to throw it away, but she would never let that happen. She'd hide it, and the lady would never find it.
Her fingers scrabbled in the dirt beside the hay, until she'd made a little hole, just big enough to hold the ribbon. She folded it up, gave it a kiss, and put it into the hole, covering it with dirt and hay. It would be safe there, safe from the lady, who would never come into the shed.
The man came in, and she made herself small, like a little mouse, hoping that he wouldn't find her. Hoping, hoping, wishing so hard it made her head hurt. Wishing her daddy would come and find her, come and take her back home.
But of course the man found her. He always found her, no matter how well she hid, or how far she ran. His hands were rough and hard as he jerked her to her feet, and she cried out, "Daddy! Daddy!" as he swore at her and jerked her out of the shed, back into the hot, hot sun, back to the ugly old house he said was their home now.
Mysterious Ways.
Pairing: Chris/Joey
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Linda's Passions
Why this must be read:
It was hot. So hot.
The sun was something too big, too bright, like a monster, like a dragon her daddy had once read a story about, and it breathed fire like that dragon, burning the top of her head, her shoulders.
The air was hot, like when daddy, baking the good things to eat she never had any more, opened the oven door, so hot it made her lungs hurt as she ran, as hard as she could. She had to keep running, to get far, far away.
Tall yellow-brown grass whipped at her bare legs. Sweat stung her eyes, and her dark hair, stringy and dirty, stuck to her cheek, to her neck.
She tripped and fell hard, and for a minute she stayed there, coughing at the reddish dust that puffed up like a cloud as she'd fallen. Her legs hurt from running so far, and her chest hurt from breathing so hard, but most of all, her heart hurt because she was scared and wanted her daddy.
The man's voice called to her, calling her by that name, calling her Emily. She'd never be Emily, though, no matter how much he scared her. No matter how much the lady slapped her when she said it wasn't her name. She'd never be Emily. Never, never.
His voice came closer, and she pushed herself to her feet and ran again. Behind her, she heard him say bad, bad words, and yell at her to stop, to come back home because mommy was worried. She ignored him. This wasn't her home, and that lady wasn't her mommy, because she didn't have a mommy. It was just her and daddy. And this man, this scary man who said he was her new daddy, was a liar. Liar, liar, liar, because this man was thin and had mean blue eyes, and her daddy, her real daddy, was big and had a soft tummy and brown eyes like her own. This man yelled a lot and drank things that smelled bad. He never smiled like her own daddy, who smiled with his whole face and had a beard that tickled when he kissed her.
And she had never been afraid of her daddy. He'd never yelled at her, never kept her locked up in a hot, hot house, never kept her away from school, never kept her from her friends. The lady frightened her too, with her scary-looking eyes, calling her Emily, hugging her too hard, petting her too often, until she wanted to just scream and run away from being held too close by someone she didn't like and couldn't trust. They both told her that her daddy had given her to them, that he didn't love her anymore, but she knew that was a lie. Her real daddy had loved her, because he always said so, always kissed her and hugged her and sang to her. She knew he loved her and he would find her soon and take her back home.
The shed had become her hiding place, an old grey building almost falling down, the boards of the walls so far apart that she could see the whole big field through the cracks. It was full of spiders and squeaky little mice, but the lady was afraid of it, so it was her place to hide when she could sneak out.
She hid behind some old bales of hay and tried not to sneeze from the dust. The man was coming. She could hear his feet, in their big boots, running, hear the keys on his belt jingling. Reaching into the pocket of her old faded shorts, she pulled out the hair ribbon she'd kept hidden for all the time the people had kept her. It was pink, grubby from her fingers stroking it every night before she went to sleep, dirty from keeping it hidden from the lady. The lady had found it today, had screamed and cried and tried to take it away, but she'd snatched it out of her hands and had run.
It was all she had left, a hair ribbon her daddy had given her. In darker pink writing, it had her name, her *real* name, almost rubbed off from her touching it. She could spell it, but never wrote it around the lady and the man, because it made them so angry. The lady had wanted to throw it away, but she would never let that happen. She'd hide it, and the lady would never find it.
Her fingers scrabbled in the dirt beside the hay, until she'd made a little hole, just big enough to hold the ribbon. She folded it up, gave it a kiss, and put it into the hole, covering it with dirt and hay. It would be safe there, safe from the lady, who would never come into the shed.
The man came in, and she made herself small, like a little mouse, hoping that he wouldn't find her. Hoping, hoping, wishing so hard it made her head hurt. Wishing her daddy would come and find her, come and take her back home.
But of course the man found her. He always found her, no matter how well she hid, or how far she ran. His hands were rough and hard as he jerked her to her feet, and she cried out, "Daddy! Daddy!" as he swore at her and jerked her out of the shed, back into the hot, hot sun, back to the ugly old house he said was their home now.
Mysterious Ways.