Father's Day [Vent]
#1 of Short stories
Okay, so I wrote this on Father's day [and is one of the stories you can find on my weebly]. I just wanted to upload something here tonight before I attempted to start writing again properly.
Oh yeah! Song lyrics are "Trapped Under Ice" by Metallica. It was always one of my favourite tracks.
If I've uploaded this wrong or anything, can people let me know? I'm very new to this XD
_I don't know how to live through this hell.
Woken up, I'm still locked in this shell.
Frozen soul, frozen down to the core.
Break the ice, I can't take anymore._
The bat stood there in the in the freezing rain, glowing softly in the darkness. The nearby streetlights did nothing to light the path, nor the house in front of her thanks to the thick wet droplets. Her fur was slicked down, beaten from the sheer force. Ears flattened against her head. Yet still she didn't move, didn't search for shelter. Instead, she simply stared at the front door of the building in front of her, eyes scanning the old wood. Each scratch, each bump, each unnatural and natural mark she knew so well.
_Freezing!
Can't move at all.
Screaming!
Can't hear my call.
I, am dying to live.
Cry out!
I'm trapped under ice!_
Years ago, she had lived here with her parents. Together, happily, with the rest of the brood. Her Mother had smiled, her Father had laughed - despite hardling having anything, they loved eachother, and that was all that they needed. Family, after all, means everything. Then the arguments had started. Father would be violent towards Mother, never hitting her, but coming close. The emotional abuse stung her just by listening in, and it was never aimed at her. Eventually, her Mother left.
_Crystallized, as I lay here and rest;
Eyes of glass stare directly at death.
From deep sleep I have broken away.
No one knows, no one hears what I say!She hadn't cared, at the time. Her Mother had betrayed her by leaving. Family was everything! How dare she give up on them? Yet still, she saw the woman every week. They spoke, and eventually, she began staying with her. Her Father had continued to smile, being the soft soul she remembered him as before the arguments began. They spoke about everything, and would always put the world to rights.
Freezing!
Can't move at all.
Screaming!
Can't hear my call.
I, am dying to live!
Cry out!
I'm trapped under ice!
He began to drink. She had slipped into her shell. The abuse started again, but aimed at her. Why wasn't she good enough? Why couldn't she fix these issues! It was her fault, all of her fault! So she'd go out to clubs. Drinking too. Searching for the love, the family, that she'd lost. Desperate for that connection once again.
Scream from my soul.
Fate, mystified;
Hell, forever more.
No release from my cryonic state.
What is this? I've been stricken by fate.
Wrapped up tight, cannot move, can't break free.
Hand of doom has a tight grip on me!
Eventually, she'd drifted away from him and her Mother. Shit happened. It had been the catalyst that had, eventually, led her to the mess she was in today. Yet still, she missed him.
Even the rain, so cold, numbing her skin - could not numb the pain in her heart. She really wanted to move. Really wanted to knock on the door, attempt to make things right. She'd heard he was getting better. Heard that he wanted to speak to her again. That it would be okay, it would.
In her arms, she held a present. A small plushie, a bulbasaur from Pokemon. It held fond memories. Sure, it was now soaked through thanks to the rain. Wrecked, probably beyond repair. Much like how she felt.
Freezing!
Can't move at all.
Screaming!
Can't hear my call.
I, am dying to live!
Cry out!
I'm trapped under ice!
She placed the small plush at the door, and walked away. Her steps were faulting, as if being pulled by invisible strings. Despite her odd colouration, she seemed to disappear into the rain with ease, leaving behind a short trail from her glow.
She never noticed the tattered curtains moving, or the paw on the window. The way it held there for minutes after she had disappeared from sight. She never saw the man, shaking with the force of his tears, picking up plush and holding it tight to his chest, despite the item being so wrecked by the rain.
She never saw him wave to her, or heard the thank you he muttered into the rain._