Hey! So this chapter is terrible and awful but I needed to put it out there soon because... It's the stupid and cheesy Christmas special. Sorry! I couldn't resist! I made a tumblr, I also post the LTM chapters on there. You should check it out!
the tumblr name is letterstomarceline. (Sorry, this stupid thing won't let me post an actual link.)
Please, feel free to ask as many questions as you want about the story or whatever you want to!
Well, enjoy this sloppy chapter. Check out the tumblr dude! :)
Sitting in her prison of misery, she occasionally felt the sun leak in through the cracks in the walls.
Surprisingly enough, there are days in Marceline's life where vanishing men and stained childhoods don't cross her mind. There are times when she is happy, plenty of them, in fact.
She has good memories too.
They sat in the forest, faces illuminated by the orange glow from the fire. Marceline sat cross-legged, Hambo in her lap and Simon's jacket around her shoulders, shielding her from the chilling night air. She held a frozen waffle close to the fire, attempting to thaw her dinner. She glanced across the fire at a sleeping Simon Petrikov, twitching in his sleep. He began muttering, an unintelligible slur of sorry's and something about a Princess Betty. Simon's voice got louder and louder, crescendoing into shouts of nothing but made up words and curses.
Marceline set her waffle down. Scared, she squeezed Hambo tightly and locked her eyes shut. Tears leaking out the cracks and down her cheeks. Marceline hated yelling.
Simon sat up suddenly, hair and beard a disheveled mess.
"Marcy?"
The scared girl open her eyes, loosening her grip on Hambo.
"Simon," Marceline smiled. "You're back!"
Simon's confused expression changed to horror. Guilt filled his stomach. He never wanted Marcy to see him slip, see how scary he was becoming.
Marceline got up and walked over to where Simon was sitting, then handed him a small, cold, rock.
"What's this for?" Simon looked up at Marceline.
"It's your present, silly! Merry Christmas." Marceline grinned.
"Thank you! It's such a beautiful present!" Simon smiled and placed the stone in his backpack delicately, like it was the most valuable thing in the world. Sion looked back at her with a playful smile. "Well, Marceline, are you ready for your present?"
Marceline jumped up and down and grinned.
"Alright, here you go…." Simon dug the present out of his backpack and carefully handed it to her. Marceline snatched the red book from his blue hands, excitedly flipping through the pages.
"Why doesn't this book have any words?"
"It's a journal, for you to write whatever you want in."
Marceline plopped down on the ground and stared at the book's cover for a moment, then asked another question. "What am I supposed to write?"
"Anything you want, your thoughts, a story, you could even draw pictures if you wanted!"
They sat in silence for quite a bit, orange faces just smiling at nothing. Marceline stroked the book's spine, thinking of everything she could fill the pages up with.
Simon stared at Marceline, thinking about how special she was. Smiling at her tiny hands and tiny feet, her severed black hair sticking out all over the place.
He loved her like he would have loved his own child.
"Simon?" Marceline broke the calm silence.
"Yeah?"
"Is Santa Dead now?"
Simon, shocked, hesitated for a moment, carefully considered how he should answer.
"Uh…"
"Well, did he?"
"No, of course not, Marcy. Silly girl."
"Then why didn't he come? Was I bad this year?"
"No! Santa just.. He's just running a bit late this year…"
"So he will come?" Marceline looked hopeful.
"Uh… Yes."
"I wish Santa could help me find my dad."
Simon frowned. He knew how much Marceline wanted to find her dad, but he always hoped they would cross paths with Mr. Abadeer. In his eyes, Marceline was much better off with him, even as crazy as he was becoming, rather than that demonic freak.
He never wanted to give her up.
Simon didn't want her to succumb to her father's ways of meaningless evil.
Eventually, Marceline fell asleep next to the fire, Hambo in her arms and her new journal laying beside her. Simon quietly emptied his backpack, filled with things he had picked up in the ruins.
He didn't want Marceline to see him as a liar.
Her innocence was a candle, the wick burning down too fast. Simon would do anything to keep it lit for just a bit longer.
Marceline woke up with the sun shining through the trees, a fresh morning dew in the grass around her. She sat up and stretched, her 'blanket' (Simon's Jacket) sliding off and landing in the dewey grass. Three presents lay before her, wrapped in newspaper. She looked up at Simon, who was still wide awake, with her eyes wide and full of stars.
Simon couldn't help but smile.
"Santa came while you were asleep. Told you he was just running late."
Marceline grinned her fanged smile, pure happiness bouncing in her stomach.
"Did you get to see Santa?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. He told me that you were the nicest little girl on his list."
Marceline grinned even wider and reached for the gifts. She tore the paper off and examined the sewing kit she had uncovered. She showed it to Simon and said, "I can use this to fix Hambo's leaky arm!"
Her next gift turned out to be a purple sweater, and even though it was way too big for her, she put it on anyway, pleased with her change in attire.
Her final gift, she unwrapped slowly, and carefully.
"What's taking you so long?" Simon pestered playfully.
"I… Don't want it to be over."
From the paper, she pulled out 3 red, feathery pens. Marceline smiled.
"Now I can write in the journal!"
Simon laughed at her adorable enthusiasm, and he and Marceline decided to keep everything in his backpack for safekeeping, right back where they came from.
Marceline giggled to herself, walking next to Simon on the way to a new campsite. He looked down at her.
"What's so funny?" He questioned.
"Nothing, it's just, I was thinkin' 'bout how you kinda' look like Santa Clause."
Simon laughed, a under-used cackle ringing form his throat. He hoisted Marceline on top of his shoulders.
"I guess I kind of do!"
