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rainbowfic2016-08-17 11:26 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2016-08-17 11:26 pm
First Light 10, Color Party 22, David Bowie 15: Living
Author: Kat
Title: Living
Story: In the Heart
Colors: First light 10 (Lens), color party 22 (Flavescent), David Bowie 15 (I got seven days to live my life or seven ways to die → Seven (Hours…))
Supplies and Materials: Graffiti (Lilith Faire Village Stage: Raise Your Glass, Pink), canvas, seed beads (Elisa Warmind), watercolors (Center of Attention), acrylic (ghost),
Word Count: 170
Rating: PG
Summary: Elisa deals with her mother's illness her own way.
Warnings: parental death.
Notes: None.
So, the thing was, Elisa wasn't stupid. None of them were. She knew Mom was sick again, even if no one was saying anything about it. She knew this time Mom wasn't getting better, even if no one would admit it. She was sixteen, not a baby. She understood.
So she bribed Eliot to keep his mouth shut and sneaked out at night. She did everything she could think of over those long summer nights. Skinny-dipping in the old gravel pit, streaking on the high school grounds, running around with seniors, drinking and singing and partying until dawn mottled the sky purple and pink. Almost got caught once or twice, too, but she never came too close, just enough to add that spice of danger.
So Mom was dying. So her family was falling apart. Elisa held off the grief her own way, by living just as hard as she could, living where Mom couldn't, living so somebody was. Just like she promised Mom.
She never did break that promise.
Title: Living
Story: In the Heart
Colors: First light 10 (Lens), color party 22 (Flavescent), David Bowie 15 (I got seven days to live my life or seven ways to die → Seven (Hours…))
Supplies and Materials: Graffiti (Lilith Faire Village Stage: Raise Your Glass, Pink), canvas, seed beads (Elisa Warmind), watercolors (Center of Attention), acrylic (ghost),
Word Count: 170
Rating: PG
Summary: Elisa deals with her mother's illness her own way.
Warnings: parental death.
Notes: None.
So, the thing was, Elisa wasn't stupid. None of them were. She knew Mom was sick again, even if no one was saying anything about it. She knew this time Mom wasn't getting better, even if no one would admit it. She was sixteen, not a baby. She understood.
So she bribed Eliot to keep his mouth shut and sneaked out at night. She did everything she could think of over those long summer nights. Skinny-dipping in the old gravel pit, streaking on the high school grounds, running around with seniors, drinking and singing and partying until dawn mottled the sky purple and pink. Almost got caught once or twice, too, but she never came too close, just enough to add that spice of danger.
So Mom was dying. So her family was falling apart. Elisa held off the grief her own way, by living just as hard as she could, living where Mom couldn't, living so somebody was. Just like she promised Mom.
She never did break that promise.