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rainbowfic2015-10-23 11:47 am
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2015-10-23 11:47 am
Blue Opal #15, Nacre #12
Name: kay_brooke
Story: Unusual Florida
Colors: Blue Opal #15 (like the last time I saw them), Nacre #12 (cipher)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 646
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Amy needs to ask her dad a question.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Amy hesitated, her aunt's words echoing in her head, but eventually she knocked on the door. Aunt Megan didn't know anything, and she had no say over where Amy could go or who she could talk to. She wasn't her mom, no matter how much she tried to act like she was.
There was no sound from within, and Amy knocked again, louder. This time she laid her ear against the door, holding her breath while she listened for even the tiniest indication of movement. She couldn't hear anything.
Maybe he was asleep. Amy turned away, disappointed, and it was then that her dad's voice came through the door. “Who is it?”
“It's me,” said Amy, bounding back toward the door, her heart leaping into her throat. It had been so long since she had talked directly with her dad. “Amy.”
Silence.
“Can I come in?” Amy waited to a count of ten before she spoke again. “I just have a question.”
The sound of the door unlocking, and there was her dad through the crack he opened, eyes bleary and red like he'd been crying, stubble crawling up and down his face. Amy stared; she'd never seen her dad anything but cleanshaven. “What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I was asleep,” he said. “Just ask your question.”
Amy bit her lip. She'd wanted to have an actual conversation with her dad. She missed him so much. She missed both of them so much, but her dad was alive, and here, and she had hoped talking to him would alleviate his own sadness a little bit, which was sucking at him so hard that she could barely breathe. No part of the house was free from it. She had to do something.
But if a question was all she got, that would have to be enough.
“I just wanted to know how long we're staying here,” she said. “School starts in a few weeks. Don't we have to be back for that?”
Her dad blinked at her. “School?” he said.
“Yeah.” Amy wrung her hands. “We have to go back to school soon.”
“That's what you care about?” he muttered. “School?”
Tears sprang up in the Amy's eyes, mostly from the fresh wave of anger that had just rolled over her dad. Why did her question make him so mad? “I don't care, really,” she said. “But we have to go, don't we? It's the law.” Though maybe not. She'd once had a friend who had been taken out of their local public school to be homeschooled. Was that what her dad had planned? Were she and James going to be homeschooled? Wouldn't that require her dad to actually come out of his room once in awhile? She wasn't sure she liked the idea of staying in Millinocket and only ever having school in the house. She wanted to get out of the house.
“I don't know,” he said.
“You don't know?” Amy asked, timidly, wondering which question he was answering, or if he answering any of her questions at all.
“I don't know when we're going back!” he snapped. “I think I have more pressing things to think about than your school.”
Amy took a step back, startled. What things? But she didn't ask, because she knew what things. Her mom. Always her mom, and her dad's memories of her. His grief and sadness and anger. Amy felt her own and his, and in him there was no room for anything else. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“No, I'm sorry,” said her dad, running a hand over his face. “I shouldn't have yelled. I'm just tired.”
“That's all I wanted to ask,” said Amy, backing away. “I'm sorry I woke you up.”
“Okay,” he said, and closed the door.
Amy trudged up the hall back to her own room.
kay_brookeStory: Unusual Florida
Colors: Blue Opal #15 (like the last time I saw them), Nacre #12 (cipher)
Styles/Supplies: Canvas
Word Count: 646
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply.
Summary: Amy needs to ask her dad a question.
Note: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
Amy hesitated, her aunt's words echoing in her head, but eventually she knocked on the door. Aunt Megan didn't know anything, and she had no say over where Amy could go or who she could talk to. She wasn't her mom, no matter how much she tried to act like she was.
There was no sound from within, and Amy knocked again, louder. This time she laid her ear against the door, holding her breath while she listened for even the tiniest indication of movement. She couldn't hear anything.
Maybe he was asleep. Amy turned away, disappointed, and it was then that her dad's voice came through the door. “Who is it?”
“It's me,” said Amy, bounding back toward the door, her heart leaping into her throat. It had been so long since she had talked directly with her dad. “Amy.”
Silence.
“Can I come in?” Amy waited to a count of ten before she spoke again. “I just have a question.”
The sound of the door unlocking, and there was her dad through the crack he opened, eyes bleary and red like he'd been crying, stubble crawling up and down his face. Amy stared; she'd never seen her dad anything but cleanshaven. “What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I was asleep,” he said. “Just ask your question.”
Amy bit her lip. She'd wanted to have an actual conversation with her dad. She missed him so much. She missed both of them so much, but her dad was alive, and here, and she had hoped talking to him would alleviate his own sadness a little bit, which was sucking at him so hard that she could barely breathe. No part of the house was free from it. She had to do something.
But if a question was all she got, that would have to be enough.
“I just wanted to know how long we're staying here,” she said. “School starts in a few weeks. Don't we have to be back for that?”
Her dad blinked at her. “School?” he said.
“Yeah.” Amy wrung her hands. “We have to go back to school soon.”
“That's what you care about?” he muttered. “School?”
Tears sprang up in the Amy's eyes, mostly from the fresh wave of anger that had just rolled over her dad. Why did her question make him so mad? “I don't care, really,” she said. “But we have to go, don't we? It's the law.” Though maybe not. She'd once had a friend who had been taken out of their local public school to be homeschooled. Was that what her dad had planned? Were she and James going to be homeschooled? Wouldn't that require her dad to actually come out of his room once in awhile? She wasn't sure she liked the idea of staying in Millinocket and only ever having school in the house. She wanted to get out of the house.
“I don't know,” he said.
“You don't know?” Amy asked, timidly, wondering which question he was answering, or if he answering any of her questions at all.
“I don't know when we're going back!” he snapped. “I think I have more pressing things to think about than your school.”
Amy took a step back, startled. What things? But she didn't ask, because she knew what things. Her mom. Always her mom, and her dad's memories of her. His grief and sadness and anger. Amy felt her own and his, and in him there was no room for anything else. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“No, I'm sorry,” said her dad, running a hand over his face. “I shouldn't have yelled. I'm just tired.”
“That's all I wanted to ask,” said Amy, backing away. “I'm sorry I woke you up.”
“Okay,” he said, and closed the door.
Amy trudged up the hall back to her own room.