Once again, while doing final read-throughs of Finders Keepers I was inspired for a story.
Darn that Pandora.
This time it was Brennan. And when Airplanes by B.o.B. came on this scene was all I could see.
Please enjoy, R&R if you're so inspired.
Disclamer; Seriously, I'm flattered that you think I would be writing Fanfic if I owned Bones, but I assure you I do not.
Wishing was not something that she had ever believed in.
It was not something she had ever done.
But tonight she looked at the stars and waited.
Shooting stars were, according to folklore, best for wishing.
But there were none.
She did not pray either; there was no reason to do so.
If there was a god he would have gotten her out of here long ago.
He would have sent her parents back to her.
Her loving caring parents who he, if he existed, had snatched from her, for no logical reason.
Only a masochist would believe in a deity when faced with what she had gone through, and continued to go through on a daily basis.
But she could with upon a star.
That was just asking the universe for hope.
Even if nothing ever came of it, as she was sure nothing ever would, she could still hope.
She could wish for that.
She sat on the roof overhang outside of her bedroom window. The night sky overhead was littered with stars and satellites.
The night wind picked up, tugging at her shirt and pants, teasing her hair out of its tightly drawn ponytail.
She felt the tears evaporate in off her hot cheeks as the newest bruises formed on her ribs.
They would never be seen.
She had hidden broken bones.
Bruises the size of soft balls.
The only sick days she had taken all year were the two that she spent in the trunk of the car.
No one knew. And no one ever would.
She never changed or showered in the locker room, she went into the bathroom stalls and changed there.
Her peers attributed it to shyness, not one of them guessed the truth.
If they knew they would pity her, they would be sympathetic, she hated that.
Her worker was like that.
Pity and sympathy were how you treated someone you didn't care about or couldn't help.
Her peers couldn't actually do anything, so why let them in? It made no sense.
She shifted her seat, folding her legs under her and letting her hands curl in her lap, almost a lotus pose, but not quite. She let her mind drift to her current place in the world.
This place.
It's only one more year.
That was it, one year and she would be free.
Free of the system.
Free of her family.
Free to go to college and get the hell out of here forever.
Three years had seemed so short at the beginning, it had seemed possible.
That was before.
Before she knew.
Now, with one year left she wondered if she could do it.
If she could take the abuse.
The idea of suicide once again floated into the forefront of her mind.
Once again she pushed it down.
Killing myself would solve nothing.
I will get out of here, and I will excel at University.
And I will never come back.
I will build a life for myself so far beyond this place that no one here would ever know I was the same girl.
The tears returned, flowing freely down her face as she made no attempt to stop them. There was no one here to see.
No one to ask why she was crying.
It was her one place where she could let go.
She closed her eyes, forcing a new wave of tears racing down her cheeks, catching on her lips, and falling at last on her hands.
She took a deep breath, she knew what she wanted.
A home.
A place to be myself, unafraid and respected.
A job where I can do what I love with colleagues I can consider friends.
And if I'm lucky someone who will care for me, forgive all my faults, and never ask me to be anything other than what I am.
She opened her eyes.
An airplane flew slowly over head.
Airplanes were man-made, a symbol of humans conquering the air and nature. Putting the entire planet at a traveler's fingertips.
Better than a star, she would wish on human ingenuity.
She would wish on an airplane.