c r i m s o n /l i p s/ t r a c e /t h e /ic e – a carly centric oneshot
Why hello everyone! I had the strange desire to do a Carly-centric one-shot giving a little background on her childhood. These are just my thoughts and if you don't agree that's fine. I attempted writing in present tense with a third person twist and I'm not sure if I pulled it off correctly but I'll let you be the judge of that. At first I wanted this to be a Creddie one-shot (I know, I've gone off the deep end, haha) but the idea just worked better with Carly. Hopefully I'll get a Creddie one-shot out soon but it might take some time. Since I don't ship the couple it's challenging to write about them but I wanted to try. So, now that I've bored you to death, read on and let me know what you thought. :D
she is a little girl and every evening her daddy packs her into his beat up, cherry red Toyota and drives up to the ice rink – a place where girls defied g r a v i t y and dreamed e n d l e s s possibilities.
and when her scratched, blue skates meet the surface of the ice she feels p o w e r f u l. she feels like she can simply toss her torso into the air – after all, birds learned to f l y, so why couldn't she? – and never come down.
.\/.
the three-year old carly snuggles closer to her mother's embrace, eyeing the colorful print on the pages of the storybook – the slanted words meant n o t h i n g but each picture said a t h o u s a n d words.
"then one night she woke from a terrible nightmare. she had dreamt that the beast was dying and calling for her, twisting in agony," kate shay- short for katelyn (her mother never liked being called such a f e m i n i n e name) – reads in a slightly flat tone.
her mommy has such a beautiful voice, like she's a delicate rose intertwined with her circumstances in the most delicate way. and yet katelyn rebecca shay is as strong as women came.
there came the quiet clicking of the door being unlocked then and carly is pushed into a cocoon of blankets – it was just like h i d e and s e e k – to watch as her mother grabs the handgun from a secret compartment under the coffee table.
"kate." a man's muffled voice comes from behind the door just as her mommy swings it open.
"steven," her mother cries then, her eyes lighting up as they do only when he is home. there comes the haphazard flinging of arms and tender kisses – this ritual a l w a y s signified that her daddy wasn't here to s t a y –before the couple parts.
"where's my rosey-posey?" her daddy asks then and carly lets out a welcoming squeal. right after her birth her father nicknamed her rosey – because of her r o s y red cheeks and g u r g l i n g laugher.
he's not there to stay – she didn't totally understand w h y, but her mommy always said it was because he had to s e r v e the country – and she should hate him for it but she doesn't.
she loves him so much it hurts.
.\/.
when carly is six she finds her mother slumped by the door – her mommy seemed more f r a g i l e then e v e r before – with a strange brown bottle in her hands.
"mamma, what's wrong?" carly asks, her lower lip trembling.
"hi baby," is all kate says before taking another sip of the bubbling liquid. tears trace sodden paths – like liquid p a i n- down the woman's cheeks before hitting the carpet with inaudible plinks.
"what's that?" the innocent child wonders, pointing at the bottle with the funny smelling liquid inside.
"nothing, honey," her mom answers with a watery smile before pulling her daughter into a secure hug. "i love you so much, you know that?"
carly nods soberly, "i love you too, mommy."
{carly would never see the newspaper with the headline: Commander Steven Shay kidnapped in combat}
twenty minutes later kate tucks her little girl into bed and kisses her goodnight, dimming the lights to a dreary glow. minutes later spencer creeps into the room – even at nineteen he still wore his lucky ducky pajama bottoms – with a troubled look in his eye.
"what's wrong with mommy?" carly whispers into the blackness nearly swallowing them whole.
"dad's gone," is all spencer says, but it's enough to make her heart crack – it crumbled into t h o u s a n d s of tiny, p i e r c i n g shards.
something in her fears that her father will never come back. {and she never did know how to deal with it.}
.\/.
seven year old carly begs to go skating. {because it's been so l o n g and she just needs to be f r e e again.}
spencer's out trying to charm the ladies – he never was good at that particular aspect of life – so her mom has to take her. the car hums with incessant silence – it's so t h i c k carly fears she might c h o k e – the whole drive down.
and when she's there she skates like nobody's watching – on the ice it doesn't m a t t e r who sees her; she's i n v i n c i b l e– and ignores her mother leaning up against the edge of the rink.
and then her eyes are smarting and tears are struggling to release and her heart is pounding a syncopated rhythm – she wants to s c r e a m out loud that this is for her and her daddy o n l y and her mother isn't a l l o w e d – and she's not a good girl yet so she decides 'what the heck.'
"why did you make daddy leave?" carly cries, the ice freezing her question, freezing her posture and her cold, cold eyes until she's unwavering.
kate doesn't answer – carly knows, oh she knows, her mother is c o n v u l s i n g and ever so slowly d y i n g on the truth, the words that will open up a c h a s m – and instead flashes her daughter a sad, sad smile.
{all carly wants to hear is the words 'i didn't make him leave' and e v e r y t h i n g will be f i x e d. but will it really? after all, the haunting truth of the matter never r e a l l y, truly goes a w a y.}
she never comes to the rink with her mother ever again.
.\/.
she awakens in the middle of the night – there is something terribly w r o n g; child's intuition perhaps – and pads down the hall towards her parent's room.
there's no breath residing here anymore – the c r u m p l e d covers, v a c a n t drawers and s i n i s t e r feeling prove that well enough – but all carly can bring to mind is the fact that her mother didn't even leave a goodbye note.
she doesn't cry – she's a child and she really should be able to c r y, not sit here and feel this n u m b n u m b n u m b feeling - because she's been expecting it for such a long time.
they all love him too much to go on without him. and then again, some are stronger than others. her mother just couldn't handle the emptiness.
carly just lies in bed and wishes to dream – because there m u s t be s o m e conceivable way to e s c a p e this indescribable night – but she's afraid to sleep.
an hour later finds the little girl curled up in her older brother's embrace, sleeping soundly. because she needs him; he's the only thing she has left.
.\/.
spencer signs up for an art class and tells his little sister the news very excitedly.
carly knows that her brother liked art but at first it didn't click why he would choose to pursue it now. and then she did – they were just two b r o k e n spirits trying to escape reality with a n y little tool they c o u l d.
"i'm glad for you," she tells him with a hint of a smile.
.\/.
she stands in front of the video camera her dad had bought spencer on his sixteenth birthday and scrunched her face up until she looked like a morbidly obese child (no offense intended.)
by staring at all her little flaws and imperfections, the dips and divots in her skin that make her who she is, she manages to understand that nobody can obtain perfection – not even her mom.
"you left us," carly whispers into the dusk, running her hands over her arms to erase the chills. she is sick and tired of avoiding those words, no matter how hard they are to say. "you left us for yourself. you left us and i don't know if i'll ever forgive you."
she doesn't know why she said those last words. after all, kate is her mommy and she always will be and she loves her mother so, so much that she's afraid of feeling; of course she will forgive her mother…she already has.
{she already has.}
.\/.
the doorbell rings – it chimes o v e r and o v e r and both siblings are t e r r i f i e d to answer it; neither can take more bad news – incessantly. finally her puffy-eyed brother answers the door.
and then there's a rainbow arching through carly's life because right there on the doorstep stands her father – he's smiling like he's the h a p p i e s t man on e a r t h because they haven't told him the news yet.
"where's your mother?" he asks brightly after gathering them in a tight hug.
their silence is words enough [gone gone gone gone gone, she ran away.]
and carly feels the guilt eating her up because she shouldn't be so happy. it's only her father, after all. and yet she can't erase the smile from her face.
.\/.
when carly is eight spencer announces that he rented an apartment and they're moving – oh how that word t e r r i f i e s and t h r i l l s her.
so she goes and packs her bags and breaks out in the most random fit of laughter on her bed because finally they have the chance to move on from their past.
she refuses point blank to visit her parent's room before they leave. her father has already packed everything out but she has no desire to visit the room in which her mother slept.
carly doesn't want to think about her mother ever again. it hurts too much to love her and yet she can't stop loving her so she's stuck in a hate-love cycle that traps in her in a horrifying quandary.
.\/.
as they're driving away carly suddenly sees the ice rink and she knows that she can't leave without skating one last time.
please, please, please, please, please, she pleads, catching the knowing gleam in her father's eye – that look reminds her of the haphazard flinging of arms and tender kisses, the ritual that a l w a y s signifies that her daddy isn't here to s t a y.
spencer doesn't understand the same way their father does – he is perfectly c o n t e n t with a blob of clay or a sketchpad in his hands.
"alright," her father whispers, capturing his daughter's cheek in a fleeting kiss.
they pull out their skates from the back and head out and as soon as carly's feet touch the ice she feels at home.
she skates & skates & skates until her breath is escalating in strangled puffs and her nose is as bright red as a plump cherry and for the first time she feels the ache in her chest and accepts that it's never going to go away.
for the briefest second she's a tiny child again skating for the first time & feeling her father's arms circle around her & giggling as he picks her up & spins her around.
"i forgive you mommy," carly whispers into the winter wonderland, her skates skimming over the ice, barely touching the scarred, frozen surface.
she feels like she's flying – and she n e v e r ever wants to come d o w n because as soon as she d o e s she has to start r u n n i n g again.
SPARKNOTES:
I hope you enjoyed that. It was certainly interesting writing from Carly's perspective because everyone thinks she's Miss Perfect. I think she's spoiled, yes, but I also think everyone has a backstory, so this is what was created out of that reasoning. Sorry if it isn't a happy ending - I think it was bittersweet because she accepted it and yet that doesn't make the ache go away. Whatever. That's just my opinion.
Anyone else excited for iStart A Fanwar? I was ecstatic to begin with and now I'm sick of the rivalry. I still ship Seddie %100 but I hate the immature bickering that goes on. How does fighting over fiction characters solve anything? Sorry, my rant is over, haha. Have a wonderful day!