Peter
After that argument everything changes. She’s always in my mind, always. Maybe she really was right I mean what she said about things getting better makes sense even if it’s hard to. Life is hard, she was right. I mean Carl and Anne aren’t so bad. Having the other kids in the house isn’t that bad either. I just can’t get Kristen out of my head, she reached out to me and cared when no one else did, because of her I don’t feel like I’m losing it all the time. Every time I see her at school I hide behind the crowds, I’ll admit I’m ashamed of hiding but I don’t want to face her.
I’m walking through the along this path through the woods that connects these two neighborhoods (its one of my favorite things about Carl and Anne’s home) one evening. I was getting ready to turn around and head home when I heard someone crying. There’s a log about 10 feet off the path and she’s sitting there sobbing. I know it’s her, Kristen, because of the way her beautiful blonde hair shines in the moonlight. Her whole body shakes as she cries. I walk slowly up behind her and sit next to her; she hardly notices or seems to care. I almost speak when she lays her head on my shoulder and sobs some more. I want to comfort her so I stroke her hair it’s all I can really do. Finally I look down at her face and there are some small bruises on her cheeks. I want to ask her something when she speaks up, this will be our second time speaking and its kind of an awkward situation.
Kristen
It’s so weird he found me here considering he’s the one I wanted to see, I wanted to tell him I lied, life doesn’t improve it only gets worse. My mom had some tests and the baby is going to be autistic, an autistic baby girl. Jim gets beating my face as if trying not to hide it, he hits harder too. I want out but that’s so selfish with a baby on the way, I need to protect her. Stacy, that’s what I’ve been calling her secretly. Tonight it all seems to crash down on me and I run from home and end up sitting on a log sobbing. That’s when he shows up. I must look so bad, and I don’t help anything by leaning on his shoulder and crying more. He doesn’t push me away and I don’t know why.
“Peter, I lied.”
“About what?” he asks.
“Life doesn’t get better…” I have to bite my lip from saying more even though I have nothing else to say.
“Sooner or later it does, it might not always seem so but if you try you’ll make it through this.” His eyes still aren’t that midnight blue that twinkles but there not that depressing grey anymore either.
“You look better,” I change the subject before I can blurt out the whole story.
“I was having a hard time too” he practically whispers
The next thing I knew I was blurting out the whole story, I had never shared that with anybody, not even James. Then I started begging him not to call social services.
“I should” he says
“Please, I have to protect Stacy, please please please don’t!” I plead.
“Stacy?” he asks
“The baby, my mom’s baby, I’ve got to protect her.” Because I do, it’s up to me since my mom is so blinded.
“They’ll help her too” Peter holds his ground.
“I’m afraid to leave,” I don’t know why I’m so scared and why I said it but it’s the truth.
“I should probably admit that I had no idea that your life was so complicated I thought you where just another rich girl, everything perfect.” Peter’s eyes have disbelief written all over them.
“What about you, what’s the deal with you?” he seemed caught off card by the question, but I was going to get my answer.
“Well, my parents were never home always off gambling, then one day my mom was home so I went to our neighbors and when I came back she was passed out and my 10 year old sister was dead on the couch, strangled. When the police showed up, I was so numb. I didn’t care about anything. Then after the court case when, my mom was put in jail from murder and my dad from possession of illegal drugs, I got put in foster homes. It was horrible, I was only 14 then. All the foster parents kept telling me to call them mom or dad, or they where trying to be my best friend before I even knew what they’re house looked like. Then I get sent to Janie’s house and I got better, she really seemed like my mom. But my social worker Mrs. Martha decided that I need to branch out, she was just so bitter, she is so bitter!” he stopped to breathe for a second. “Now I’m with Carl and Anne and a bunch of other kids. I had just been moved a week before we spoke. I felt like I had Janie taken away from me just like my sister, my sister’s name was Casey.”
Wow I had no idea he had such a history. “Peter, I don’t want to be put in foster care. I want to stay at home.”
He said that he didn’t know why I wanted to stay so bad but decided in the end that I shouldn’t have to be moved forcefully. He also decided that if I wasn’t leaving he wasn’t and just like that he was a permanent part of my life….not that that’s a problem.
After that argument everything changes. She’s always in my mind, always. Maybe she really was right I mean what she said about things getting better makes sense even if it’s hard to. Life is hard, she was right. I mean Carl and Anne aren’t so bad. Having the other kids in the house isn’t that bad either. I just can’t get Kristen out of my head, she reached out to me and cared when no one else did, because of her I don’t feel like I’m losing it all the time. Every time I see her at school I hide behind the crowds, I’ll admit I’m ashamed of hiding but I don’t want to face her.
I’m walking through the along this path through the woods that connects these two neighborhoods (its one of my favorite things about Carl and Anne’s home) one evening. I was getting ready to turn around and head home when I heard someone crying. There’s a log about 10 feet off the path and she’s sitting there sobbing. I know it’s her, Kristen, because of the way her beautiful blonde hair shines in the moonlight. Her whole body shakes as she cries. I walk slowly up behind her and sit next to her; she hardly notices or seems to care. I almost speak when she lays her head on my shoulder and sobs some more. I want to comfort her so I stroke her hair it’s all I can really do. Finally I look down at her face and there are some small bruises on her cheeks. I want to ask her something when she speaks up, this will be our second time speaking and its kind of an awkward situation.
Kristen
It’s so weird he found me here considering he’s the one I wanted to see, I wanted to tell him I lied, life doesn’t improve it only gets worse. My mom had some tests and the baby is going to be autistic, an autistic baby girl. Jim gets beating my face as if trying not to hide it, he hits harder too. I want out but that’s so selfish with a baby on the way, I need to protect her. Stacy, that’s what I’ve been calling her secretly. Tonight it all seems to crash down on me and I run from home and end up sitting on a log sobbing. That’s when he shows up. I must look so bad, and I don’t help anything by leaning on his shoulder and crying more. He doesn’t push me away and I don’t know why.
“Peter, I lied.”
“About what?” he asks.
“Life doesn’t get better…” I have to bite my lip from saying more even though I have nothing else to say.
“Sooner or later it does, it might not always seem so but if you try you’ll make it through this.” His eyes still aren’t that midnight blue that twinkles but there not that depressing grey anymore either.
“You look better,” I change the subject before I can blurt out the whole story.
“I was having a hard time too” he practically whispers
The next thing I knew I was blurting out the whole story, I had never shared that with anybody, not even James. Then I started begging him not to call social services.
“I should” he says
“Please, I have to protect Stacy, please please please don’t!” I plead.
“Stacy?” he asks
“The baby, my mom’s baby, I’ve got to protect her.” Because I do, it’s up to me since my mom is so blinded.
“They’ll help her too” Peter holds his ground.
“I’m afraid to leave,” I don’t know why I’m so scared and why I said it but it’s the truth.
“I should probably admit that I had no idea that your life was so complicated I thought you where just another rich girl, everything perfect.” Peter’s eyes have disbelief written all over them.
“What about you, what’s the deal with you?” he seemed caught off card by the question, but I was going to get my answer.
“Well, my parents were never home always off gambling, then one day my mom was home so I went to our neighbors and when I came back she was passed out and my 10 year old sister was dead on the couch, strangled. When the police showed up, I was so numb. I didn’t care about anything. Then after the court case when, my mom was put in jail from murder and my dad from possession of illegal drugs, I got put in foster homes. It was horrible, I was only 14 then. All the foster parents kept telling me to call them mom or dad, or they where trying to be my best friend before I even knew what they’re house looked like. Then I get sent to Janie’s house and I got better, she really seemed like my mom. But my social worker Mrs. Martha decided that I need to branch out, she was just so bitter, she is so bitter!” he stopped to breathe for a second. “Now I’m with Carl and Anne and a bunch of other kids. I had just been moved a week before we spoke. I felt like I had Janie taken away from me just like my sister, my sister’s name was Casey.”
Wow I had no idea he had such a history. “Peter, I don’t want to be put in foster care. I want to stay at home.”
He said that he didn’t know why I wanted to stay so bad but decided in the end that I shouldn’t have to be moved forcefully. He also decided that if I wasn’t leaving he wasn’t and just like that he was a permanent part of my life….not that that’s a problem.
When will this end?
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying by their own hands everyday.
They say this world can change for the better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will love start?
The day we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The day we love too much to kill
The day others' pain is our pain
The day we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
I say, let us try.
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying by their own hands everyday.
They say this world can change for the better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will love start?
The day we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The day we love too much to kill
The day others' pain is our pain
The day we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
I say, let us try.
It’s the color of you
You always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid form them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our orange book bags
Saved us from some pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then you left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
You were in the orange field in the sky
You always said was there.
The orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though you left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone orange in the rainbow
Without you here
I protect my own
Though I wish you were here
Now orange is my color
A color for you bravery
A color for my survival
Orange will forever be our color
Even though death took you away
Forever orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
You always wore it
It’s the color we shared
As we hid form them
With it we showed our true selves,
Though no one cared
Our orange book bags
Saved us from some pain
We protected each other
But it wasn’t enough
We were like two orange crayons
When everyone else was green
Then you left me alone,
All I had was our color orange
As they hit me
I took peace in knowing
You were in the orange field in the sky
You always said was there.
The orange of the sun set
Is your smile
Even though you left too soon
Orange…
Now it’s my color
My way of remembering you
Now I am the lone orange in the rainbow
Without you here
I protect my own
Though I wish you were here
Now orange is my color
A color for you bravery
A color for my survival
Orange will forever be our color
Even though death took you away
Forever orange for you,
Sweet Cassidy.
First off, to those of you that know me, I haven't posted at all in awhile, I'm aware my "Nightfall" series hasn't been updated for those of you that liked it, but since school started back, I have had hardly any time to write anything. I WILL get back to posting on "Nightfall" if anything else for the sake of completion. But I also discovered the marvolous "Fallout" series a few months back, and decided to try to make a novel out of it. For those of you not familiar with the series, "Fallout" is a series of games set in a post-apocyloptic future, and finds a custom made protagonist made customly by the player dealing with life in the now wastelandic USA. My story is loosely based off "Fallout 3" but with major differences along the way, so the story is original in that aspect. If you guys will read the story, I will make it as adaptable as I can for those who are not familiar with it. Please leave comments, so I know whether or not I should post it. Thank you. -AdamK
