by DRdoctorlady » Tue Mar 29, 2011 12:00 pm
heyyo peoples, I'm going to thank evarybody agaen for reading and responding to this-you guys make mah day.
SO!
Since I haft neglected Pinnacle for FOUR days, I shall begin Chapter 3.
YAY
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I know it sucks. But deal with me. I'm not good feeling currently
Edit: *sees Alex's response*
I swear, it seems like it XD
Chapter 3
Home.
I was just pulling Break through the last stretch of fields before our shack. Coon had gotten there first, shouting something about his clocks. Dagger, Grasswhistle and Badger had also gotten in ahead of me. I could see Dagger outside, cursing at the chickens and rinsing off his arms with water bottles, his piano lying on the tree stump by the fireplace. Coon, you could hear crashing around inside, resetting his clocks.
"Hhhhommm," Break murmurs as I pull him closer to the house. He straightens a little, and walks a walks a bit faster.
"Mhmmm, you get to sleep in your bed tonight," I say absently, pushing him in front of me. Stumbling through the line of bracken that covered the front of the house, I stepped onto the 'bald spot'.
The bald spot is simply a patch in the official front of the house (its open on both sides; on one end are the double doors (though one is broken almost completely off) and on the other there's a gaping splintery hole filled with plants). It's a spot where there's almost no grass, where our fire, the tree stump, and most of our miscellanious outdoor crap is situated around. The bald spot reaches all the way up to the front door, where the wood floor starts.
I skirt around Dagger, who's scrubbing his arm and furiously flinging curse words at the chickens, who unconcernedly scratch at the ground.
I guide Break inside, where Coon's still busy jumping around, pulling the chains for his cuckoo clocks and flicking levers on. Grasswhistle's inspecting the schedule, fervently scribbling things down. I leave Break, knowing he'll stay where he is unless someone tells him to go somewhere else.
"What now?" I ask her.
"Laurel's has us blocked in for rest for the rest of the day, cept Dagger. He gets to feed the chickens."
"I'm sure he's going to love that."
"Hmm, yes, and tomorrow, you have some crop duties. I'll be with you. Dagger's going hunting, and Badger's going to take care of Flyby and Break during that time. Then they're going to switch, but Badger's going to feed the chickens again. Coon's going to boil water."
"That all?"
"Mhmmm."
"So I'm free to go?"
"For the rest of the day: yes."
"Wooo!"
I trot happily back and stick Break in bed before climbing in my bunk. First time in my bed for nine days.
* * * * *
I wake up around the right time for once, not too bright out, nor two o'clock in the morning. Perfect.
Feeling extremely satisfied, I swing out of bed.
I can hear Coon up in the rafters and look up, seeing him hanging off the rotting wood. I suppose I should tell him to get down.
Hmm...
"Hey Coon, what day is it today?" I ask, knowing he should know. He always keeps meticulous track of time. It's his obsession.
"September 21st," He responds, carefully sticking his good arm around the wooden rafters.
I feel numb, like someone stuck a cold hand in my chest and crushed my heart. I make a strangled sound.
Today's my birthday.
"What?" I ask, numbly.
"September 21," He says again, slightly irritated. He hooks his other arm around the rafter and pulls himself up heavily. "Oh, I suppose that means I was shot on 9/11," he holds tightly to the wood and inches his way to the end.
I make another surprised noise.
"It's not that cool," Coon frowns. "Okay, it is pretty cool. But you look really sick right now."
I run out of the house.
I'm trying to escape; to get away. The memories are surging again, and grief is catching up with me. Life's getting too fast. I'm trying to escape.
I push past Badger and Flyby and the chickens, feeling an irrational bit of desperation. I don't know why. It makes no sense. I push plants out of my way, brushing past who I think is Dagger. I'm gaining speed. I jump over roots and try to dodge around the trees. I end up jumping up a massive tree and huddling at the divergence point of some of the branches, curling around the wood, avoiding the twigs. I don't cry. I just sit there, like Break.
You don't understand.
I've turned 13. I'm a teenager now.
But I've got no world left.
I can feel the weight. I don't have options. I can't be a doctor or an anthropologist or even a freaking McDonald's clerk. I won't get to choose how I spend the rest of my life. I grow up. I will farm. I will die.
I don't want to get old, either.
Today's a reminder of all that's lost to me.
I curl up tighter, my cheek pressed against the bark. This tree will easily outlive me. When I'm gone, it'll be here. Depressing, yes. But it's real. It's my future.
Grabbing my head, I curl up even tighter, and cry.
In Construction
DRdoctorlady wrote:^^ Give me a while to put this up. I'm DR. Not doctor. Dee Arr.
My kismesis is Coastal Kid, so ignore us if we're arguing. Hope to get something nice up soon c:
For now, deal with it.