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rainbowfic2022-08-22 11:29 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2022-08-22 11:29 pm
Entry tags:
Daffodil 5: the sound of one voice
Author: Kat
Title: the sound of one voice
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Daffodil 5 (flowers)
Supplies and Materials: Graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 3: One Voice, The Wailin' Jennys)
Word Count: 218
Rating: PG
Summary: The hospital room smells like dying flowers and antiseptic.
Warning: none
Notes: So Miranda got stabbed! No one's having a good day.
The hospital room smells like dying flowers and antiseptic. It makes Charlotte feel sick.
Mama and Papa have gone home. Neither one of them had slept since Miranda-- since, and Mama still had blood on her pants. Now that Charlotte and Jack are here to stay with their sister, Mama and Papa can rest. There’s something good, at least.
She swallows hard against a sudden pain. No. There’s nothing good about this.
Jack seems to know what she’s thinking, but he always has. He takes her hand and squeezes it, but says nothing; there are no words for this moment and they both know it. Sitting by their sister’s hospital bed, waiting to see if she’ll wake up.
Her brother squeezes her hand one more time, then gets up and kneels next to the bed. He folds his arms next to Miranda’s arm and closes his eyes, and Charlotte is struck with the sudden pain of memory-- her and Jack in bed with the flu, Mama and Papa somewhere else, and Miranda, kneeling just like this, whispering stories to them as they tried to fall asleep.
She moves to the bed herself and brushes the hair off Miranda’s face. Her skin is cool under her hand. Charlotte bends down, kisses her forehead. “Hola, Miracita,” she whispers. “We’re here.”
Title: the sound of one voice
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Daffodil 5 (flowers)
Supplies and Materials: Graffiti (Lilith Faire Day 3: One Voice, The Wailin' Jennys)
Word Count: 218
Rating: PG
Summary: The hospital room smells like dying flowers and antiseptic.
Warning: none
Notes: So Miranda got stabbed! No one's having a good day.
The hospital room smells like dying flowers and antiseptic. It makes Charlotte feel sick.
Mama and Papa have gone home. Neither one of them had slept since Miranda-- since, and Mama still had blood on her pants. Now that Charlotte and Jack are here to stay with their sister, Mama and Papa can rest. There’s something good, at least.
She swallows hard against a sudden pain. No. There’s nothing good about this.
Jack seems to know what she’s thinking, but he always has. He takes her hand and squeezes it, but says nothing; there are no words for this moment and they both know it. Sitting by their sister’s hospital bed, waiting to see if she’ll wake up.
Her brother squeezes her hand one more time, then gets up and kneels next to the bed. He folds his arms next to Miranda’s arm and closes his eyes, and Charlotte is struck with the sudden pain of memory-- her and Jack in bed with the flu, Mama and Papa somewhere else, and Miranda, kneeling just like this, whispering stories to them as they tried to fall asleep.
She moves to the bed herself and brushes the hair off Miranda’s face. Her skin is cool under her hand. Charlotte bends down, kisses her forehead. “Hola, Miracita,” she whispers. “We’re here.”
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