Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino.
Dark Beginnings
By Lola Presents
Chapter 1 - Changes
While all children are individuals, Lucy Loud was as far from typical as one could be. From the day she came into the world, her parents and siblings knew she was different. Born with a condition called Lagophthalmos, she could not blink properly, making it seem like she was staring at people.
Her condition made her family nervous, and they encouraged her to grow her bangs out to hide her eyes. As a result, Lucy sadly grew up believing something was wrong with her and that she wasn't as worthy as everyone else. Her thoughts weren't so much conscious as they were unconscious.
Lucy's self-esteem suffered greatly as she aged and began isolating herself. As the years went by, she found solace in the dark and macabre, surrounding herself with dark imagery to keep people away. Eventually, she discovered the goth musical genre and claimed her identity.
The truth was, Lucy wasn't a true goth. Her musical tastes leaned more toward black metal than anything, and her affinity for mythological beasts spoke more highly of gothic influence than goth, being two different things. The only thing that resembled goth was her choice of clothing.
But underneath all her facades, she was still human and harbored human emotions. Among all her siblings, she was, perhaps, the most sensitive, though she guarded her feelings well. Her inability to reach out to others saw her alienated and fall into a constant state of depression.
At nine years old, Lucy had seen and done many things. She'd mastered the art of communicating with the dead, divination, and fortune-telling. But for all her accomplishments, the one thing she wanted more than anything was to fit in, but she failed at her only attempt at normalcy.
Just as others did not understand her, she did not understand others. But all that was about to change. Change is a scary thing. It means leaving behind what you once thought, robbing yourself of your comfort zone, and replacing it with something new and unexplored.
It was the last day of school, and Lucy was looking forward to going home and not returning for another two and half months. While she had a small group of similarly minded friends, most people treated her as an outcast, and she would rather avoid any unpleasant incidents.
Choosing to walk home instead of riding the bus, Lucy held her books firmly against her chest as she plodded along the aging sidewalk, ensuring she stepped on every crack. Not because she wanted her mother's back to break but because she scoffed at such silliness.
Lucy knew real magic, which didn't involve stepping on any cracks. True magic involved objects for use as focal points when harnessing one's inner power and mantras that helped one achieve self-actualization.
Witchcraft, as practiced by Wiccans like herself, was nothing more than applied psychology. The man who stares at a mirror, repeating, "I will not drink alcohol today," while banging on the bathroom counter to make it through the day without drinking, had practiced witchcraft.
Focus, intent, and verbalization all played a part in working magic. If only Lucy realized, at a younger age, that she could apply these principles to herself, maybe she wouldn't be in the spot she was in, which included the rapidly approaching neighborhood bully.
"Yo! Anne Rice..." called Chandler and his two goons as they walked toward Lucy from the opposite direction. "Where do you think you're going?"
Now, Lucy knew better than to engage such monkeys. However, she was quickly surrounded and had little choice. Being more intelligent, Lucy could easily outsmart them, making a break for the house. However, that would only make things worse should they give chase and catch her.
"I'm going home," Lucy informed them, relaxing her grip on her things, should she change her mind about running. "Where do you think you're going? Back to the zoo?"
Chandler's face turned beet-red, and he forcefully slapped Lucy's book from her arms. Lucy jumped back in surprise and winced. But before she could react any further, Chandler pinned her against the sidewalk's retaining wall, clutching the front of her little black dress with both hands.
"Listen here, you little freak," the bully spat, "insult me again, and I'll have to teach you a lesson!"
"N-No thanks..." Lucy replied, trembling against the stone wall. "I d-don't need you to t-teach me anything," she said before a flash of arrogance came over her. "B-Besides, you aren't smart enough."
"That's it!" Chandler cried as he drew his arm back, popped her hard across the mouth, then laughed as she crumpled to her knees, bleeding from her lip. "That'll teach you to talk back to your superiors," he scolded as he and his friends began walking away.
Tenderly, Lucy licked her lips and wiped her cheek, then slowly stood and looked around. At seeing her brother, Lincoln, and his friend, Clyde, come around the corner, she tried running home to avoid any embarrassment. However, she hadn't looked where she was going and tripped over her fallen books.
"Hey, man," prodded Clyde, pointing further down the sidewalk. "Isn't that Lucy?"
"You're right," exclaimed Lincoln in concern. "And she looks hurt. Let's go!" he instructed before running after his sister.
Upon reaching his prone sister, Lincoln helped her up and began dabbing at her swollen lip with the hem of his shirt. It wasn't the first time Lucy had gotten hurt or harassed by someone, and every time it happened, Lincoln grew increasingly furious.
"Are you alright?" inquired Clyde, standing by her side, steadying her.
"Yeah," assured Lucy, stopping to gather her books. "I'm only shaken. I'll be fine."
"Clyde..." Lincoln announced, "...you go on home. I need to talk with my sister."
"Are you sure?" asked Clyde. "What if they come back?
"It's okay," muttered Lucy, feigning a smile. "Go on home."
Clyde nodded in acceptance and said farewell to them both before heading down the sidewalk. While he would've preferred staying and helping Lincoln's sisters, he could tell that Lincoln didn't need him eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Lucy," Lincoln sighed as he took his sister's things to lighten her load. "Why do you let people do this to you?"
"I don't let them do anything, Lincoln," she moaned. "I think they were born mean."
"That's not what I mean, Lucy," replied Lincoln, walking closely beside his sister. "It's the way you present yourself."
"Am I not allowed to express myself now?" barked the irritated goth.
"Yes, but..." muttered her brother. Then stopping, he faced her. "I like comics. Right? But most people think that makes a person weak. If I let everyone know, they'd pick on me too. So, I keep it between those I can trust."
"What does that have to do with me?" inquired Lucy, puzzled at his response.
"The point is..." began Lincoln, trying his best to explain a difficult concept. "Being yourself is essential, but there are many ways to do that. You'll still be you regardless. You don't have to stick out like a sore thumb."
Lucy furrowed her brow and averted her gaze as she continued shuffling down the stone path. Lincoln had a point, but she wasn't sure she could maintain her identity outside her current state.
"Thanks, Lincoln," she offered sullenly. "But why do you care so much?"
"Because..." sighed Lincoln, exasperated that she didn't recognize basic empathy. "You're my sister. I love you and don't like seeing you get hurt."
"What would you have me do?" prodded Lucy as she strolled beside her brother. "Go full normie?"
"That's another thing," asserted her brother. "What's with the labels? I thought you goths hated them. You can drool over vampires and listen to dark music just as easily in a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. And, for goodness sake, cut your bangs. It makes you look like you're hiding something."
"I am," Lucy reminded him. "I have a problem, remember? I don't blink, and that unnerves a lot of people."
"Maybe," sighed Lincoln. "But it doesn't define you. Besides, the right guy could get lost in them. You never know."
"I don't know..." groaned Lincoln's sister.
"Look. I don't mean to sound judgmental," Lincoln assured her. "But sometimes you must go out of your comfort zone, especially if you want people to like you."
"What do you mean?" Lucy asked, wiping more blood from her cheek.
"Well..." responded her brother. "You know how I prefer reading comics in my underwear? If I walked outside like that, it'd be an open invitation to get beaten up. You have to dress for the occasion while still being yourself. You don't have to use makeup or do anything special with your hair. Just tone things down and remember that not everyone has the same interests as you."
"I see..." hummed Lucy as she climbed the stairs to the front porch. "Thanks, Lincoln," she said, pausing before entering. "You've given me something to think about."
"You're welcome," Lincoln said with a big smile. "I just don't like having to pick you up off the ground all the time."
Nodding pleasantly, Lucy entered the house and headed upstairs to her room, where a sultry novel awaited her. Escaping into a fantasy world had long been Lucy's release after long, stressful days at school. But as enticing as they were, seldom did they help her deal with real life.
Sighing heavily, Lucy placed her books on the dresser she and her roommate shared and rolled onto her bed, finding her place in her novel as Lynn watched with concern.
"Again?" prodded Lynn, disgusted but empathetic. "Girl, you need to toughen up. Please don't wait for them to trash you. Hit them first!"
"I don't think I can do that," Lucy mumbled as she removed her bookmark. "That's not who I am."
"Damn it, Lucy!" barked her sporty sister. "Will you let people walk all over you for the rest of your life? If you believe in who you are, stand up for it!"
"No," moaned the darker of the two. "I have something else in mind."
"Like what?" implored Lynn curiously.
"You'll see," Lucy replied, dismissing the topic. "Now, please. I want to read my book."
The novel Lucy read involved an unlikely romance between a werewolf and a vampire, who, against all odds, fell in love, despite differences between their clans. A bold rip-off of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, written as poorly as one might expect, Lucy's imagination took over, filling in the missing descriptions and narrative.
Though the female lead in the novel was a werewolf, Lucy soon began envisioning herself in the role, getting wooed by a handsome yet misunderstood vampire. It wasn't until after the main characters had pledged their love for one another, kissing to seal the deal, that she involuntarily replaced the vampire's face with her brother's.
Gasping, she sat upright, letting the little grocery-store novel fall into her lap.
"What was that?" she thought, shuddering at the image that flashed before her. "That's so gross. Why would I..."
Dismissing her concerns, she returned to the story, trying to lose herself again. Sure, Lincoln cared about her. She was his sister, and it was part of the familial contract. That didn't mean he was anything more than that, even if he was the only one that ever listened to her and tried to help.
"The only one..." she repeated quietly to herself.
After getting called to dinner that evening, Lucy told her sister, Lynn, to go ahead without her and that she'd be down in a minute. Staring at her sister briefly, Lynn left the room without saying anything. Lucy had been unusually quiet that evening, even for her.
A few moments later, after everyone had assembled, Lucy came down the stairs and took her seat as cheerfully as she could muster. Looking around as the room fell silent, Lucy feigned ignorance and demanded to know why she was getting odd looks.
"Is something wrong?" asked Lucy as she sat calmly before her still empty plate. "Do I have something in my teeth?"
Lucy had changed into a pair of blue jeans and a black polo, sacrificing her patent leather shoes for sneakers, and had her bangs pulled back and tied up like a Shonen warrior in the back.
"Um, Lucy..." muttered Lincoln, a little uncomfortable. "When I suggested toning things down, I didn't mean to copy me, specifically."
"I didn't," chirped the goth. "My shirt's black. Yours is orange."
"You look positively normal," observed Luan. "What happened to your makeup and eyeliner?"
"I didn't feel like it. So, what?" Lucy mumbled, shrugging at everyone as she scooped some creamed corn onto her plate.
"What's with your bangs, though..." interjected Lana, who couldn't stop staring. "I thought you didn't want anyone to see your eyes."
"That was the old me," announced Lucy, forcing a smile. "Besides, how will I ever get a boyfriend if they can't look into my eyes?" she explained. "Isn't that right, Lincoln?"
As Lincoln looked up at the mention of his name, he got hit in the head with three loose rolls.
"Why would you tell her something so stupid, Lincoln!" barked Luna, prepping another roll. "People find dates all the time, and it has nothing to do with looking into their eyes!"
"Hey!" exclaimed Lincoln, placing the errant rolls on his plate. "I believe that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and to truly know someone, you must meet their eyes. It's the most intimate and open thing one can do!"
"Lincoln's right, you know," agreed their mother.
"Besides..." sighed Lincoln focusing on his meal. "I told her to try it so more people to like her or stop bullying her at least. She can still be herself without being so alienatingly obvious about it."
"Wait..." ordered their father, mid-bite. "Bullying? Who's bullying you?"
"Don't worry about it, Dad," Lucy said, embarrassed. "Just some kid..."
"I don't care who it is," their father exclaimed, putting down his fork. "If someone's harassing my children, I need to know who they are so I can have a word with their parents. This is unacceptable."
"Dad!" exclaimed the girl with the swollen lip. "It's alright! Confronting them will only make it worse!'
"No," replied her mother, shaking her head. "Your father's right. We need to nip this in the bud."
"Fine!" complained Lucy, furrowing her brows and stuffing some potatoes in her mouth. "It was that Chandler kid and his stupid apes."
"Chandler?" gasped Lincoln, slamming his fist into the table. "That's it!" he exclaimed. "He can pick on me all he likes, but nobody hits my sisters, especially Lucy! You can talk to his parents if you like, Dad, but I will have a word with him tomorrow, personally!"
"Right on!" cheered his sporty sister, Lynn. "If you need backup, let me know."
"No, son..." responded their father. "Let your mother and I handle this. There's no reason for you to get involved. Please, don't start anything."
"Oh, I won't," grumbled Lincoln defiantly. "But I'll sure as heck put a stop to it."
"Lincoln..." cooed his mother. "Please? We don't like seeing any of you get hurt, and it's our responsibility to ensure you stay safe."
"You don't get it..." Lincoln argued, setting his utensils down and leaning back in his seat, rubbing his face with frustration. "If you speak to them, they'll only yell at him. Then, he'll take it out on either me or Lucy. You aren't with us all the time and can't fight all our battles for us. At some point, we have to stand up for ourselves."
"He has a point, honey," Lynn told Rita. Then facing his son, he gave as much consent as possible. "Alright. Look," he said. "If this Chandler starts something, finish it. But don't go starting it yourself. Do you understand?"
"Lincoln?" interjected Lucy, barely audible as she was beside herself at the turn of events.
"Yes?" Lincoln chirped, facing his sister, who sat there looking forlorn and lost.
"Please, don't do anything stupid," she requested. "Especially on my behalf. Chandler harasses everyone. I'm not special."
"But, Lucy. You are special. To me, anyway," he muttered. Then, realizing how weird it sounded, he tried to clarify his meaning. "What I mean is..."
"Enough," barked their father, drawing all eyes toward him. "We're going to talk to his parents. Lincoln will handle things otherwise," he recapped. "Consider this settled and move on."
Having declared the topic closed, the children sat quietly for a few moments before new, more exciting things presented themselves. Whether it was Luan's upcoming school play or Luna's weekend gig announcement, they spent the rest of the evening in frivolity.
Afterward, as the children cleaned their settings and headed elsewhere, Lincoln followed Lucy up the stairs. Not wanting her to relive the day's horrors, he hesitated in talking to her. However, he had left something unsaid at dinner that needed rectifying.
"Hey, Lucy?" he called, stopping her mid-step.
"Yes, Lincoln?" she responded without turning around.
"Don't take what I said at dinner too harshly. Alright?" Lincoln requested. "I think you look nice," he offered. "Cute even."
"Thanks, Lincoln," Lucy groaned, despite a sly little grin slipping onto her face. "Goodnight," she offered before continuing her ascent and into her room.
After entering his room, Lincoln flopped onto his bed, weary and stressed. At dinner, he'd let his anger get the better of him. Lincoln wasn't a fighter and knew it. But if he were to stand up to Chandler, he needed to be. Nobody was going to hit Lucy and get away with it. His only chance was his sister, Lynn. Tomorrow was Saturday, and he intended to use the weekend training.
Lucy quietly entered her room and lay on her bed, stiff as always. Wearing regular clothes wasn't as bad as she thought. As long as the overall colors suited her, why should it matter? Besides, Lincoln had been right. If her friends shunned her for it, they were hypocrites, and she didn't need them. However, the young goth was at a loss when it came to what, or whom, she did need.
