Natsuki's home life
Yep, I'm still alive. Why did I decide to write this short story? Welp, I realized that I have no experience in this field, which became apparent to me when I reread my fic, which kinda sucked, So what better way to get better than writing some random stuff? This time around we're doing a DDLC short story about Natsuki, which is one of my favorite characters in the game. I'm kinda torn between her and Sayori, since I do kinda find both of them relatable, which is probably not a good thing, but it is what it is. Now Let's get to actually writing this story.
Natsuki's smile dims as soon as she leaves the club room. Her father today is home off of work, which is not good news. Why you may ask? Because he isn't exactly a kind person. Oh, not at all. She can't do anything because of him, not even play a sport, because it's 'a waste of money', as he puts it. She can't even keep any manga in her room, and he does many other things, but Natsuki would rather not think about it.
After half an hour of walking, she reaches her home, fishing her pockets to get her keys and enter. The first thing she notices as she comes in, is the silence. And sure enough, her father is asleep on the couch, a fact that is quite relieving for the pinkette. Natsuki walks into her room, locking the door behind herself. Laying down on her bed, she pulls out her earbuds, hooking them up to her phone to listen to some music while she illegally reads manga on the internet, since she's barely able to even afford the physical copies. Though she keeps those in the club room, since it's safer.
After a few minutes, the girl is lost in her own world, enraptured by the story, imagining how awesome her life would be if she was in the happy reality of the slice of life manga. But alas, that's not how the world works, as she's quickly reminded by her ears picking up on the faint sound of footsteps, like a deer picking up on the faint rustle of bushes, where a potential predator could be hiding, and she pauses her music, holding her breath, hoping that he'll just leave her alone for once.
"Open the door." Her breath hitches, as she lays paralyzed in fear at the sound of his slightly altered voice, a clear sign that he's drunk. Why? Why can't he just leave her alone? Why? Why? Why?
"Open the fucking door this instant." The young girl gets up, hesitantly opening the door, and as soon as she does so, she barely manages to brace herself for a slap against her cheek, which makes her stagger, and a breath of alcohol.
"When did I ever say that you could lock your door, useless girl?" She shrinks on herself at her father's tone. It's always like this. Everything she does is just an excuse to yell at her and hit her? Why? What did she do to deserve this? Anger bubbles within her, her eyes locking into a glare.
"What does it matter to you what I do and don't do? You have no right to scold me, you're not my father, you're just a shitty drunkard!" Her high pitched furious voice echoes around the room and back at her, and before she could realize her mistake, she was already on the ground, pain erupting from her forehead, her vision blackening for a couple of seconds.
"Who taught you to talk back to your father, bitch? I'm teaching you some respect, ill-manner bastard child that you are." She lets out a choked noise, a sharp sting coming from her chest, and she curls into herself, struggling to breath on the ground. Her father walks over her, grabbing her phone, which had been left on her bed.
"You'll be lucky to find this in one piece, girl." He throws her yet another scorning look, and then locks her in the room.
Natsuki lays crying on the floor, her forehead bleeding from the previous events. "Just kill me now…" She whispers to herself, hiccuping, her head filled with horrible thoughts. She's tired of this. She's tired of getting hurt. She just wants to rest… Forever… But she can't. She can't leave the literature club like this. They wouldn't have enough members to stay together without her. Fine. She'll just hold on until someone new comes, when she won't be needed anymore.
And now how to stop the bleeding?
Author Note: This is much different than what I'm used to doing. In fact, this is just me practicing about writing stuff that is supposed to make the reader feel something for a character. Did I do good? Probably not, but I'll let you be the judge of that. And if you have any suggestion about how to make this feel more real, I'd be happy to hear them. Bye!