Note: Trigger warnings before you read: this story will contain neglect, mental abuse, self-harm, attempted suicide, blood, gore, sex, psychosis, and development into psychopathy (yes, those are different things.) If any of these bother you, then I don't recommend reading this story. In addition, the work is done in first-person, so there's the heads-up for those of you who hate that.
There is no character bashing or hate intended. Since this is a PoV, it's from HER VIEWS on events.
Constructive criticism is appreciated.
Time, such as timeskips, flahbacks, and memories.
Sign language.
Television or scroll voices.
Writing.
"Can you tell me your name?"
My name? I don't see how that's important. Why should I tell him? Don't care about his. The sofa feels smooth under my hands as my fingers curl. Why am I here anyway? What's this even for? Maybe they just finally got tired of having me around. I stare blankly at the ceiling above me, the corners of the rotating fan going in and out of my field of vision.
From the annoying sound of leather hitting my eardrums, I can tell that the old man is shifting his position in his chair "Would you like to talk about what happened?"
No. I don't want to talk about it. It's not like I can anyway. Not since the accident. I don't blame her for that, she was just trying to do right by us. However, she just can't seem to let it go. Dad's the one that should feel bad about it. He shuts down for months, leaving us to fend for ourselves, then expects us to go back to normal? No. There is no going back. Nothing's the same. Not since she died. I'll never forget that day. How could I?
"Your family is worried about you."
That would be a first. Worried about me? Not likely. They never have been, so why start now? We all grieved differently... I just happened to get the short end of the stick. Not that I blame them. I can't even stand to see myself in the mirror. Every time I do, it's just her. It's always her. The same black and red hair. The same skin. Her silver eyes. Aside from how much longer my hair is, the only difference is that ugly scar across my throat. The light fabric of my scarf is pressed against my wound by my grip at the mere memory of what happened.
The scribble of a pencil. "I understand that you have a throat injury, have you tried to speak since it happened?"
My head turns to face him as he pushes his glasses upon his nose. I can't. Even if I tried, I just... can't. I'm not like Ruby. All she does is talk. She may even sound like her one day. I can't stand it. Why does she get to have fun while I'm ignored? Oh, right. I remember her angry glare. Her voice loud and full of fury. Stop it. I don't want to hear those words. Not again.
There's pity in his gaze, a look of understanding. "Can I tell you something? When I was very young, my mother passed away. It left me bitter and angry. I was suffering, just as I see you are. But I got help, and just being able to confine in someone allowed me to accept what happened and move on. I understand your pain, and I just want to help you."
Help me? I don't want his help. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it. I just want to be left alone. That's when I'm happiest. No family to bother me, to remind me what's gone. When they're around, I expect to see her with us. But no. There's always that empty seat at the dinner table. A space open on the couch that will never again be filled. A pair of eyes, waking up and pleading for her to be there. To say that this is all a bad dream. Everyone else seems to have moved on, so why can't I? Because of what I did? Will I always feel this guilt? I kneel on an empty grave every day to tell her that I'm sorry. That I would take it back if I could. To beg her to come back, wearing the same smile upon her face as when she left.
It's not the same without her. Nothing's the same.
The clock ticks away until the man speaks once again. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have. Come, I will take you to your family."
My sneakers hitting the carpet, a weird clash of pink on green, I follow him. He holds the door open for me to go first. From his office to the main room, the only sound I can make out is my own breathing.
Upon arrival, Ruby looks at me nervously. "How was it?"
I say nothing, merely giving my twin a glance. Yang smiles weakly, but none is returned from my lips. Dad speaks to the man, who claims to still have confidence that I will open up. If I've kept my emotions to myself for six years, he certainly won't be hearing them.
Gentle snowflakes are destroyed by the car window. Entities too sweet for this world. Just like her. It always takes the most precious things. What else would one expect from a world filled with monsters? They will never go hungry, as they feed on our sadness and regret. Our anger and our failures. Dad and my sisters make small, quiet conversation, but I don't pay attention. I'm unaware if they've tried to speak with me or not, and I don't care. When the car stops, I'm the first out of the car. My sneakers hit the grass and move up to the house. I can feel their eyes on me, probably judging my every move. I make my way up the stairs and into my room, closing the door behind me.
My face hits the bed and I lie motionless. A few minutes later, and Dad comes inside. Sitting on the edge of my bed, he says nothing for a while. Why did it have to come to this? Why couldn't have things remained the way they were? I just doesn't feel right anymore. I haven't even called this place "home" in years. Home is where she was, and she's gone.
"Peony." His tired voice hits my ears, saying that cursed name. "Why'd you do it?"
I'd like to know the answer to that myself. Why couldn't I have just kept my mouth shut? If I did, she'd still be here. She was a huntress, and she should've been focusing on the monsters... but I distracted her. Through a simple, stupid request, I cost my mother her life.
His tone is begging. "Please, just talk to me."
My face remains in my pillow as my hands flutter above. You know I can't.
A dry chuckle. "This counts."
Since when?
Silence. I guess he didn't expect that. Then again, maybe he did. He seemed nervous today. I know it's just a front, to seem concerned in front of others. It's been six years since it was first said, but I hear it every day. It plays in my head, so I know how he really feels. I know he agrees with her. He said so, sprawled on the couch, a bottle in his hand. I was only five, and so was Ruby. But she said it first. I can hear both of their voices clear as day. Were my thoughts always this broken up?
"Can I see your hands?" he asks.
After pushing myself up from the bed and to a sitting position, I hold out my hands. His fingers brush over my wrists. I stare blankly at Ruby's bed across from us. After it happened, she stopped sleeping in here, refusing to share a room with me. Then one night, she just walked in and went to sleep. Since then, she hasn't left. I'm tired of her pitying gaze, of those forced smiles towards me. Why does she want to get along now? It's confusing.
He cracks. "Was this my fault?"
No. It was mine. He probably just wants me to admit it. They've never forgiven me, and I can't blame them. Then again, even though I destroyed everything, I was a child. I didn't know any better. The thought of what could happen never crossed my mind, because at that age, your parents are invincible... or they should be. They're only human too. They can hurt. They can die. But a five-year-old doesn't know such things. And to the rest of my family, that doesn't matter.
A hand on my chin turns my eyes to face his own. Tears. I do the same thing when I see myself. That's why I covered the mirrors in here and the bathroom. They've told me not to, but I do anyway. There's a lot they tell me not to do. And ever since last night, they've refused to leave me alone. I prefer to be alone. There's less reminders that way. I feel like I've had that thought today already. Why couldn't they have just left me there? It would have solved all their problems.
His eyes turn to the scars again. "I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen. I didn't mean any for any of this."
Now the tears are flowing down his cheeks. I hate seeing him cry. All I can think about is when she left. With a push of my legs, I hop off my bed, walking out of the room and leaving him alone. Zwei runs up beside me and follows my steps down the hall. The feeling of his fur hits my hand. He is so soft, and it helps to calm me when I'm agitated. Then there's his happy face. He never knew mom. I envy that. Maybe if I didn't know her, it wouldn't hurt so bad. The scent of fresh air hits my nostrils, and I close the door behind me, leaving the little corgi inside.
My eyes scan the house falling into the distance. They didn't see me. I had already made sure of that on the way out, but it doesn't hurt to triple check. After all, if they knew where I was going, they would surely stop me. Dad and Yang would pull me back, and Ruby would annoy me into doing so. But with the house now hidden behind the hill, a left turn leads me into the woods. Fallen branches and leaves crunch under my every step for a good few minutes, then they stop momentarily as I smile at what lies up ahead. This is really the only place that makes me happy. A little course that I built for myself.
Dad didn't like the idea of me taking gymnastics, so I decided to teach myself a couple years back. I may or may not have stolen his scroll to watch videos so I could train. But now I know many tricks by heart, and I've even come up with a few of my own. Taking off with a running start, I raise my hands reach for the trees above. Suddenly, my position flips, and my palms now rest on the dirt. As soon as my feet hit the grass floor once more, they kick off. While midair, my body twists before landing on a wooden platform. A small smile forms on my face as my eyes look into the opening of my little hideout.
After taking a couple steps back, my smile getting bigger, my back bends into another cartwheel. However, instead of my sneakers hitting the floor, they catch on a pair of pull-up rings that that I "borrowed" from Yang. Using the muscles in my legs, my body is swung upside down before flipping upwards when my feet leave the rings. My hands grab a metal bar, and I swing myself upwards, standing on it. Keeping my balance, I turn and cross the entire thing. Reaching the edge, my body tucks into a front roll, and my sneakers hit another lower platform.
A small, relaxed sigh escapes me. Doing stuff like this has always calmed me down, so I don't get why Dad's so against it. It could be worse, I could be like Yang and Ruby, who want to go fight monsters. Just like her. Yang's already been in Signal for a year, and Ruby's attending next November, so why do they get to fulfill their dreams and I can't? Subconsciously, my hand drifts to my neck. Does he just not want people to see? They must be embarrassed, I'm sure they are. I've always been the outcast. The "weirdo." And what happened on that trip only furthered my role.
The moon starts to rise before I begin my trek back to the house. A slight feeling of dread takes my heart. Why am I afraid? When did this start? The days blur together at this point. I could have sworn that I had just passed that tree. Must have been yesterday. I keep thinking that the scent of alcohol will hit me. But Dad hasn't had a drink in years. When she died, that's all he did. Now he's sworn the stuff off.
My sneakers scrape against the mat, and the door twists open. My sisters rush me, asking where I've been. As I move up the stairs, Yang's voice rings out.
"Dad! Yeah, she just got home!"
Great. He's been looking for me. Why can't they just leave me be? Fresh clothes are placed on my arm before I move to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. After stripping, my eyes turn to the reflection staring back at me. With a growl, the mirror is once again covered by the white cloth. Though it's not before I catch a glimpse at my thin body, and the ugly scar across my throat. Even though the hot water feels nice against my skin, I can't help but be pissed off. I've made it very clear that I don't want to see myself. I wish I could just change my appearance. Anything but this.
A few minutes later, my bare feet hit the stairs. Dinner's usually ready by now. Upon entering the kitchen, all hell breaks loose.
"Where have you been?!" Dad demands, his hands pressing on the table as he stands.
"We couldn't find you anywhere!" claims Yang.
A deep, rough voice reaches my ears. "Do you even have the slightest idea how worried we were?"
A turn to the side reveals a tired figure leaning against the wall with crossed arms. Uncle Qrow? Why is he here? He never visits. I can practically smell the alcohol on him when he approaches. Dad may be clean, but Qrow doesn't seem to stop unless he's in Dad's presence.
His hand rests atop my head. "What's been going on with you, kid?"
Silver eyes stare into red. Why are you here?
"Your dad called me."
"Peony," speak of the devil. "you can't just run off like that."
My vision rotates slightly as my head tilts. Why? They've never cared before. I leave all the time, and it hasn't been an issue. Have they seriously just not noticed until now? I knew they didn't care about me, but not even realizing when I'm not around says just how much I actually mean to them.
He responds to my motion. "Because you're in a delicate state right now, sweetheart."
An eyeroll later, and he deepens his frown as my feet move right past him. No dinner. They probably ate without me, again.
"Don't give me that tone. I want to trust you, but I can't if you keep doing these things."
His words are faint, barley registering in my ears as my hands prep a sandwich.
"We're just trying to do what's best for you here." My uncle claims.
The soft bread piece smushes in my grasp, and my eyes catch a glimpse of Ruby as she flinches. What's best for me? When have they ever given a shit about that? I know what's best for me. How the hell would they? They don't even know when I'm here or not.
"Please," my twin breaks the silence. "We're worried about you."
After turning from the counter, my silver eyes meet her own in a glare. Bread pieces break away, falling onto the floor. She looks scared, but I doubt it's because of me. She always hated seeing her mad. That's probably why she always smiles. She likely wants to just see her happy again.
Yang's voice. "Peony, stop it!"
My glare turns on her. She holds her own better that Ruby. But it's obvious that she's uncomfortable from how she scooted back. Of course she is. What happened to me was on her watch, her idea. I find myself gripping my scarf once more.
September 13th... Six years ago...
"Peony?" Yang asks in the darkness.
At the sound of her voice, my eyes move their gaze from the ceiling and towards her. Why is she up so early? And why is she looking in our doorway?
A moment's silence. "Come on." She walks into the room and scoops Ruby up in her arms as she continues to sleep.
"Where are we going?" I wonder, my hair partially falling in my face from sitting up.
"To bring my mom back."
She brings us outside, we're still in our pajamas. Ruby is placed in a little red wagon, all tucked in the red cloak that Mom had made her before she left. Gravel crunches underneath me as I walk by my big sister. My hand rests on the pink scarf that Mom had crochet for me. Sadly, Yang had never gotten a handmade item as mom had died before it was done. The only reason that Ruby and I have our gifts was because Dad had shown us the secret presents she had been working on. We were supposed to get them at Christmas. A sigh escapes Yang's lips. Mom's death has hit us all. Hard.
Dad has shut down, spending most of his time sitting in his bedroom. Uncle Qrow always has a yucky smelling drink on him. Ruby cries a lot. I've seen Yang looking out the window plenty of times, hoping to see mom walking up to the house and putting an end to this nightmare. With Dad locked away, Yang had to step up to the plate. She cooks meals and tucks us in at night, as well as cleans up the entire house. And then there's me. When I heard the news, I knew it was my fault. She had always come home before. But I distracted her. Now, she'll never come home again. The warmth of tears hits my cheeks, and Yang sees. She pauses in our walk to wipe them away. I look at her sadly.
Yesterday, Yang told us that Dad said that Mom isn't her mom. That her mom left a long time ago. I feel bad for her. Her mom didn't die, she just left. That's just mean. But Yang told me that she wants to find her. She thinks it might make Dad happy again. Several hours pass and my legs feel like jello. I'm so tired of walking.
But then I hear my big sister's voice. "We're here."
My eyes move from the ground to the barn in front of us. This is it? Her mom lives here? But... it's ugly. A snap. My head turns to the sound, and my heart feels like it's stopped beating as those blood red eyes shine from the bushes.
"YANG!"
I call out as loud as I can, and the Beowolf runs at us. My body moves on its own. I don't want my sisters to get hurt! I don't want to lose anyone else! The big dog raises its paw, and I push Yang out of the way. Everything goes black.
"Please," Yang's voice brings me back to the present. "Just listen to Dad. Don't be mad at Ruby, it was my idea. We just want you to be safe."
Something inside me snaps. My scar feels like it's burning. Because we all know you're an excellent judge on that.
If music was playing, the record would have scratched. I feel no remorse when a gasp escapes her lips, nor to the betrayal in her lilac irises. My skin tingles lightly as it feels all of their gazes upon it. But I don't care. Turning back to the counter, my hand reaches for another piece of turkey. I said nothing wrong. I only said the truth. I may not blame her, but I am in no way in a talking mood. Any mention of the incident always shuts her up.
Dad's voice raises in anger. "You are not allowed to leave this house without one of us tagging along, and that's final!"
Faster than I thought possible, my vision spins before landing on him, my mouth agape and my eyes wide. H-he can't do that!
What?! Why?!
He doesn't budge. "Because you refuse to take this seriously!"
Why does that matter?!
The sound of his fists hitting the table echo throughout the house. "You tried to kill yourself, Peony!"
Silence overtakes us all as my eyes dart around the room. Yang is on the verge of tears as Ruby is openly crying. Dad's hands remain clenched, and his vision is hardened, and Qrow seems to have a look of disappointment.
"Because of what's been going on, and your attitude as of late, you will have someone by your side until I can trust you again."
My vision blurs as my facial muscles scrunch. The feel of my incomplete dinner consumes my palm. A combination of bread, turkey, and cheese flies through the air, before finally being stopped by Dad's face. The moment it hits the floor, my hands move in a flurry.
If you had just left me, then I wouldn't be such a problem, would I?!
My body quickly moves past everyone and back out the door. Before I know it, I'm up the stairs and the familiar feel of my pillow hits my face once more. The slam of the door had to have been heard by all. But I don't care. Who the hell do they think they are?! I won't be left alone anymore? Yeah, we'll see about that. My ears pick up the sound of raised voices. Dad and Qrow are fighting again. It's probably over how to torture me more. I don't get what I did wrong. They'd be better off without me anyway.
I hate it here. It's not home anymore. It's not the same without her.
Nothing's the same.
