Status: Breaking into it!
Never Alone
Flashback
"Daddy?" three year old Carson called. Nothing. Her small feet patted up the stairs and as she wandered down the hall, she could hear the screaming.
"Stop! Charles!" her mother pleaded. He was doing it again. Daddy had the bad drink again.
Carson pushes open the door and sees her mother on the ground with her father standing over her.
"Get out," his face etched with fury and his eyes ablaze.
-
Carson jolts awake in her bed, sweating. That dream again. Except it's not a dream for her—it's a memory. It's the last memory she has of her parents before she circulated through foster homes. Carson hates foster homes. The smell, the damage she saw, and the other kids, especially that one punk who constantly picked on her. What was his name? Jason? James?
Luckily for her a family came through for her and it was the one she loved the most. Her adoptive mother always smelled like roses because of the perfume her loving husband had bought for her. He never hit her. It was safe there.
-X-
A small six year Jack sat on his bed, drawing. He hated this bed because it smelled so funny since the other foster kids jumped on it so much. However, he loved his drawings. The nuns let him draw all the time. Jack was brought into the home because his mother got pregnant at 16 and had no way of taking care of him, but he doesn't know that. All he knew was that he was abandoned.
"They took her," a kid said as he flung open the door.
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, studying his face.
"The yellow haired girl you like," the boy replied.
"I didn't like her," Jack huffed, but his face softened, "they took her?"
The other boy just nodded and turned away. Jack's eyes drifted down to the paper—a picture of roses for her. The lady she wanted always smelled like roses.
-
The rays of sunlight shine through Jack's window, lighting up the place. His eyes open slowly as he re-enters reality. Jack hates that dream, but he loves it too. It reminds him of his innocence. It was the life before he started acting out. It was the life before he ended up in a dump. He can't remember her name now to save his life, but he knows if she wouldn't have left, this life would have been better—or at least, he hopes.
"Stop! Charles!" her mother pleaded. He was doing it again. Daddy had the bad drink again.
Carson pushes open the door and sees her mother on the ground with her father standing over her.
"Get out," his face etched with fury and his eyes ablaze.
-
Carson jolts awake in her bed, sweating. That dream again. Except it's not a dream for her—it's a memory. It's the last memory she has of her parents before she circulated through foster homes. Carson hates foster homes. The smell, the damage she saw, and the other kids, especially that one punk who constantly picked on her. What was his name? Jason? James?
Luckily for her a family came through for her and it was the one she loved the most. Her adoptive mother always smelled like roses because of the perfume her loving husband had bought for her. He never hit her. It was safe there.
-X-
A small six year Jack sat on his bed, drawing. He hated this bed because it smelled so funny since the other foster kids jumped on it so much. However, he loved his drawings. The nuns let him draw all the time. Jack was brought into the home because his mother got pregnant at 16 and had no way of taking care of him, but he doesn't know that. All he knew was that he was abandoned.
"They took her," a kid said as he flung open the door.
"What do you mean?" Jack asked, studying his face.
"The yellow haired girl you like," the boy replied.
"I didn't like her," Jack huffed, but his face softened, "they took her?"
The other boy just nodded and turned away. Jack's eyes drifted down to the paper—a picture of roses for her. The lady she wanted always smelled like roses.
-
The rays of sunlight shine through Jack's window, lighting up the place. His eyes open slowly as he re-enters reality. Jack hates that dream, but he loves it too. It reminds him of his innocence. It was the life before he started acting out. It was the life before he ended up in a dump. He can't remember her name now to save his life, but he knows if she wouldn't have left, this life would have been better—or at least, he hopes.
♠ ♠ ♠
I don't think anyone is reading this... but I love the parallels. :3