DISCLAIMER: I do not own Undertale, nor the characters, I just...play with them...But I do own the OCs. I have that going for me.
WARNING: Chapter contains alluded abuse of an orphan. NOT MY USUAL HAPPY GO LUCKY CHAPTER
Quality may not be up to par, sorry, death in the family kinda saps the humor juices, so this is kinda a filler chapter, I guess.
This chapter will be split into 2 parts.
NOTE: Thanks to everyone who has favourited, followed, and commented so far!
Chapter 7
Chara's Chapter, Part 1
Life was hard for an orphan in Morristown, North Carolina.
Or was it Asheville, North Carolina now? Whatever the stupid adults decided to call the stupid town, it didn't matter! Point is, life was hard for an orphan.
Period.
End of story.
That was especially true for a nameless young girl in a budding town of barely a thousand people.
The fact that she lived to the age of six (or was she seven?) all on her own was seen as miracle by some.
But she didn't see it that way.
She didn't think it was a miracle that she was how ever old she was and had already experienced the hardships of life.
She didn't think a miracle should know what the biting pain of starvation felt like.
She didn't think a miracle would have allowed her to feel the bone deep exhaustion of a long day's work of cleaning other people's houses.
Or the harrowing feeling of being chased by kids her own age. Their sneering faces and yells echoing in her ears.
The everlasting ache of longing for a loving family she knew she'd never have.
She didn't think that a miracle would bring her to the dulled realization that it would be better to look and dress like a boy if she never wanted to feel that kind of pain ever again.
She was sick of it.
Sick of it all.
Sick of the pain.
The anguish.
The agony.
The looks of derision.
The muttered conversations as she passed people by.
The names.
They way they sneered and said how she was 'quite the character.'
The way they all acted, as if she was lower then the dirt they spat on almost as much as they spat on her.
She was so sick of the townspeople.
No.
She hated the townspeople.
She needed to get out, she needed to get away, away from them, even if she ended up dead.
The girl felt that she was better off dead than stuck in the town a moment longer.
She needed out .
She was Determined to leave.
So she left with nothing but the knife she nicked from one of the houses she cleaned, tucked safely within the pants she wore, and some old bread that the baker sometimes gave her instead of throwing out.
For days she walked with no purpose through the trees that surrounded the town, up the slopes of the mountains.
For days she'd nibble at the bread, drinking water from streams, and camping out under bushes.
Three days had passed before the bread was gone.
On the fourth, fifth, and sixth days she went without eating, this she was used to.
By the seventh day she ate some clovers to try to stem off the hunger.
It was probably her tenth day of exploring the woods when she reached a cave, and she thought that it would be the perfect place to stay.
So, on tired legs and sore feet, she stumbled through the opening, and she stopped. Due the fading light she almost didn't see it.
The hole in the ground.
The young girl walked to the edge and peered down. Never in her short life had she ever been so high, but she wasn't sacred.
A thought planted itself into her exhausted, hunger fogged mind as she looking into the darkness below her. As she stared into the abyss the days of endless walking flooded her mind. The years of working, of pain, of fear, and hunger caught up to her.
A thought, fueled by her plight, her pain, festered.
Maybe the darkness would take away her pain?
So she leaned forward, and fell.
…..
Down.
Down.
D
o
w
n
s
h
e
f
e
l
l
And then everything went dark.
