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(no subject)
Dec. 9th, 2017 05:29 pmShe's got a few books stacked on her dining room table. She'd almost made a plate of meat for Melanie, but realized that with her schedule, she probably won't have to eat for another day or two. It's wild, to her, that she can go so long without food. She doesn't pretend to be a scientist, but surely it has something to do with the fungus that lives inside of her.
But all the same, she'll be coming over, and it feels rude to have nothing on the damn table besides books, so she sets out some cold cuts and cheese cubes, just in case. Melanie seems bright enough to understand that Sara, at least, has to eat multiple times a day, so she doesn't think she'll be too bothered.
She lifts a notebook from the stack of books and sets it at a place setting, with a pen, pencil, and brick eraser for Melanie to use.
It hadn't been much of a surprise to learn that Melanie hadn't been getting much of an education since coming to Darrow, but if she's going to have any sort of future, she should at least have basic schooling. Maybe when she's been here for awhile, she'll feel comfortable enough going to an actual school, but for now, Sara's will have to do.
Sara's just glad she's got some teaching experience with Cid, otherwise this was going to be a terrible idea.
But all the same, she'll be coming over, and it feels rude to have nothing on the damn table besides books, so she sets out some cold cuts and cheese cubes, just in case. Melanie seems bright enough to understand that Sara, at least, has to eat multiple times a day, so she doesn't think she'll be too bothered.
She lifts a notebook from the stack of books and sets it at a place setting, with a pen, pencil, and brick eraser for Melanie to use.
It hadn't been much of a surprise to learn that Melanie hadn't been getting much of an education since coming to Darrow, but if she's going to have any sort of future, she should at least have basic schooling. Maybe when she's been here for awhile, she'll feel comfortable enough going to an actual school, but for now, Sara's will have to do.
Sara's just glad she's got some teaching experience with Cid, otherwise this was going to be a terrible idea.
(no subject)
Dec. 4th, 2017 10:02 amGreta had texted her not so very long ago, asking if she was home and if they could talk. It's not every day Greta actually asks to talk. Normally, she suggests a meet up and they catch up and have coffee or beer, and talk about Melanie and Saoirse. Melanie isn't Sara's, but she's been tempted to set up a play date, anyway, so Melanie can get some interaction with someone closer to her own age.
But this is different. Greta has a purpose to this conversation, she can tell. So she unlocks her front door, gives Greta the go-ahead, and then tidies up some junk mail and stray socks while she waits.
Her curiosity is definitely getting the better of her, but she bites her lip and gets coffee going instead of texting her any questions.
But this is different. Greta has a purpose to this conversation, she can tell. So she unlocks her front door, gives Greta the go-ahead, and then tidies up some junk mail and stray socks while she waits.
Her curiosity is definitely getting the better of her, but she bites her lip and gets coffee going instead of texting her any questions.
(no subject)
Dec. 1st, 2017 06:02 ampost-Purge, 2017
The day dawns as though nothing was different about the night before. Sara doesn't understand how this place can do something like this. She doesn't understand where in any city official's mind it becomes okay to sanction something like this. All she understands is that it pisses her off.
She's got scrapes and small gashes that she tends to that morning. Her body aches from holding tension in it all night. She's exhausted, but she's glad she survived. Now it's time to make sure everyone else did, too.
The first person she goes to is Serena. She's got a baby, and Sara feels, deep in her gut, the need to make sure they're both okay. She grabs a light jacket, shoves a pocket knife into her pocket, and heads out the door.
The day dawns as though nothing was different about the night before. Sara doesn't understand how this place can do something like this. She doesn't understand where in any city official's mind it becomes okay to sanction something like this. All she understands is that it pisses her off.
She's got scrapes and small gashes that she tends to that morning. Her body aches from holding tension in it all night. She's exhausted, but she's glad she survived. Now it's time to make sure everyone else did, too.
The first person she goes to is Serena. She's got a baby, and Sara feels, deep in her gut, the need to make sure they're both okay. She grabs a light jacket, shoves a pocket knife into her pocket, and heads out the door.
(no subject)
Nov. 26th, 2017 08:03 pmShe's fuckin' tired, and sore in ways she didn't remember were possible. She hasn't been this sore, she thinks, since she first took on her sister's farm. Cid was two, then. Four years later, and landscaping work isn't any easier than those first couple weeks on the farm.
It's good, though. It reminds her she's still going, as corny as that sounds. She misses Cid so much, most days it's like a physical ache, deep in her gut. She keeps checking in on the Children's Home, and at the train station, and anywhere else she can think of that might house children freshly arrived and without their parents. Greta is still her in at Green Gardens, even though she's got a little one of her own, now.
And isn't that just a kicker? Sara's not sure she'd ever be able to bond with a child the way she'd bonded with Cid, and that'd been late enough as it was. She—
With a curse, Sara shakes her head. She's so worn, so tired, that her thoughts are starting to circle in ways she can't afford to let them. She's in a cab, because she still doesn't have a car, and she tells the driver to stop at the corner.
"Lady, you're, like, seven miles from where you told me to go," the driver points out.
"Look, you can keep the change, I just— I need some air." She throws a bill at him to cover the cost and climbs out. He barely waits for her to shut the door before driving off, and Sara rolls her eyes.
She stares up at the bar they stopped in front of, a nice little corner place that looks like it could be a dive or it could be pretty classy. Either way, she's glad to see it. She pushes her way in and makes her way to the bar. She doesn't intend to sit: she just wants to get something strong to drink.
It's good, though. It reminds her she's still going, as corny as that sounds. She misses Cid so much, most days it's like a physical ache, deep in her gut. She keeps checking in on the Children's Home, and at the train station, and anywhere else she can think of that might house children freshly arrived and without their parents. Greta is still her in at Green Gardens, even though she's got a little one of her own, now.
And isn't that just a kicker? Sara's not sure she'd ever be able to bond with a child the way she'd bonded with Cid, and that'd been late enough as it was. She—
With a curse, Sara shakes her head. She's so worn, so tired, that her thoughts are starting to circle in ways she can't afford to let them. She's in a cab, because she still doesn't have a car, and she tells the driver to stop at the corner.
"Lady, you're, like, seven miles from where you told me to go," the driver points out.
"Look, you can keep the change, I just— I need some air." She throws a bill at him to cover the cost and climbs out. He barely waits for her to shut the door before driving off, and Sara rolls her eyes.
She stares up at the bar they stopped in front of, a nice little corner place that looks like it could be a dive or it could be pretty classy. Either way, she's glad to see it. She pushes her way in and makes her way to the bar. She doesn't intend to sit: she just wants to get something strong to drink.
(no subject)
Sep. 5th, 2017 12:19 pmAug 30, 2017
The letter arrives a little unexpectedly. Sara isn't even officially moved into the house, yet, and it's sitting on the windowsill when she walks into the kitchen. She doesn't even realize what it is, at first. It's sitting there, folded up to look like some sort of bird, and all she can think is that someone put it there.
Which means someone besides her was in the house.
She looks through each room and closet, making sure nobody's started squatting since the last time she was here. That'd be just her luck, wouldn't it? But each place she checks is reassuringly empty. It's only once she's satisfied she's still alone that she returns to inspect the little bird. She can see the writing on the paper through the folds. It's not newspaper, or magazine. Someone put those words there, and then put the bird there for her to find.
Sara frowns, but opens the letter, carefully unfolding it from its unique shape. She doesn't want to tear the page, and might even want to refold it once she's done reading it.
The lettering is so careful that for a moment, she thinks it could be Cid's. But, no. The shape of the a's, the slight slant of the letters, aren't quite right. She'd know Cid's handwriting if she saw it, and this isn't it. She presses the fingers of one hand against her lips as she reads, and frowns when she sees Melanie's name at the end.
Who is Newt? Not her boss. She's positive he'd tell her if he met a girl that tried to eat him. Are there other Newts in Darrow? Do they all share faces, like Greta and Sara do, or just names? It's hardly a common name.
She reads back over the letter again, pursing her lips now.
Thank you for being nice to me. I'm sorry I scared you.
Wharever Melanie is, Sara can't imagine she'd write something like this if she didn't mean it. She remembers the way Melanie had tried to warn her back at first, told her to stay away because it wasn't safe.
She needs to see this girl again. She needs to know she's okay.
That means she needs to find this Newt. Whoever he is.
The letter arrives a little unexpectedly. Sara isn't even officially moved into the house, yet, and it's sitting on the windowsill when she walks into the kitchen. She doesn't even realize what it is, at first. It's sitting there, folded up to look like some sort of bird, and all she can think is that someone put it there.
Which means someone besides her was in the house.
She looks through each room and closet, making sure nobody's started squatting since the last time she was here. That'd be just her luck, wouldn't it? But each place she checks is reassuringly empty. It's only once she's satisfied she's still alone that she returns to inspect the little bird. She can see the writing on the paper through the folds. It's not newspaper, or magazine. Someone put those words there, and then put the bird there for her to find.
Sara frowns, but opens the letter, carefully unfolding it from its unique shape. She doesn't want to tear the page, and might even want to refold it once she's done reading it.
The lettering is so careful that for a moment, she thinks it could be Cid's. But, no. The shape of the a's, the slight slant of the letters, aren't quite right. She'd know Cid's handwriting if she saw it, and this isn't it. She presses the fingers of one hand against her lips as she reads, and frowns when she sees Melanie's name at the end.
Who is Newt? Not her boss. She's positive he'd tell her if he met a girl that tried to eat him. Are there other Newts in Darrow? Do they all share faces, like Greta and Sara do, or just names? It's hardly a common name.
She reads back over the letter again, pursing her lips now.
Thank you for being nice to me. I'm sorry I scared you.
Wharever Melanie is, Sara can't imagine she'd write something like this if she didn't mean it. She remembers the way Melanie had tried to warn her back at first, told her to stay away because it wasn't safe.
She needs to see this girl again. She needs to know she's okay.
That means she needs to find this Newt. Whoever he is.
(no subject)
Jul. 23rd, 2017 08:56 amSara's real glad she's got an actual job, now. Between work, tending the farmhouse she's found in the countryside, and spending time with Greta, she's busy enough that her every waking thought isn't about Cid, at least. She's not entirely sure how she feels about that, but her stress levels aren't as high as they were when she first arrived.
She's on her way to Greta's now, actually. She's been working at the farmhouse all morning, getting things moved out that belonged to the previous owners, whoever they were. Things she neither needs nor wants. Then she'd gone back to her city apartment, washed up and changed. It's warm enough that she's in a slightly uncharacteristic outfit, with a skirt instead of her usual Bermuda shorts, and sandals instead of her usual boots.
It's not often that she even wants to look cute, anymore. Largely, it's because her energy has been focused on raising Cid. But it's also just because she hasn't been in the mood. But it's a beautiful day, and she's feeling somewhat accomplished, and she's off to see Greta and maybe drag her out for some sort of fun. She might as well look cute, right?
As usual, she's walking, instead of taking public transit. There's no sense in spending the money when the walk will do her good.
She's on her way to Greta's now, actually. She's been working at the farmhouse all morning, getting things moved out that belonged to the previous owners, whoever they were. Things she neither needs nor wants. Then she'd gone back to her city apartment, washed up and changed. It's warm enough that she's in a slightly uncharacteristic outfit, with a skirt instead of her usual Bermuda shorts, and sandals instead of her usual boots.
It's not often that she even wants to look cute, anymore. Largely, it's because her energy has been focused on raising Cid. But it's also just because she hasn't been in the mood. But it's a beautiful day, and she's feeling somewhat accomplished, and she's off to see Greta and maybe drag her out for some sort of fun. She might as well look cute, right?
As usual, she's walking, instead of taking public transit. There's no sense in spending the money when the walk will do her good.
(no subject)
May. 23rd, 2017 08:33 amGetting a job with Newt has been a godsend, because it means that most of Sara's days are filled with things that keep her distracted from her obsession with finding Cid. On her days off, she still calls the Home, and she still visits the train station, but for the most part, she tries to take the time to work on that house in the countryside, getting the yard cleaned up and making sure it's livable.
It's warm out today, and she's spent the morning working, so now she's taking some time to have a solitary lunch in the park. She might have normally invited Greta, but she fully plans on visiting the Home to check in, to see if Cid has suddenly shown up in their system, and lately, she feels a little bad about constantly reminding Greta that neither of their kids is here.
When she sees the woman walking with a tiny bundle of a baby, it feels like the universe, or at least the city, is pointing in her face, stickin' it to her. See, Sara? This is what you can't have. You gave this up when Cid was a baby, and this is your punishment.
She wants to turn her back to the woman on principle. But it's not her fault, is it? And besides, it looks like she could use some help.
She covers her little lunch with a napkin and stands, walking the dozen or so paces.
"Hey, you dropped this," she says. She picks it up, a little binkie with a clip meant to keep it attached to the baby's blanket or shirt, or something. But the clip either wasn't attached, or wasn't attached well, because now the little nipple has grass on it.
It's warm out today, and she's spent the morning working, so now she's taking some time to have a solitary lunch in the park. She might have normally invited Greta, but she fully plans on visiting the Home to check in, to see if Cid has suddenly shown up in their system, and lately, she feels a little bad about constantly reminding Greta that neither of their kids is here.
When she sees the woman walking with a tiny bundle of a baby, it feels like the universe, or at least the city, is pointing in her face, stickin' it to her. See, Sara? This is what you can't have. You gave this up when Cid was a baby, and this is your punishment.
She wants to turn her back to the woman on principle. But it's not her fault, is it? And besides, it looks like she could use some help.
She covers her little lunch with a napkin and stands, walking the dozen or so paces.
"Hey, you dropped this," she says. She picks it up, a little binkie with a clip meant to keep it attached to the baby's blanket or shirt, or something. But the clip either wasn't attached, or wasn't attached well, because now the little nipple has grass on it.
(no subject)
May. 8th, 2017 09:02 amSara doesn't really like to admit it, but she's hitting a rhythm here. Twice a week she checks the Darrow Home for Children, gets groceries, and checks the newspaper for jobs that might interest her. Every day, she takes walks, and she's started to build a rock wall around the property line of one of the houses in the countryside. It's one of the abandoned ones, but it looks like someone's cleaned it up a bit. She's kept her eye on it, but nobody's been by except her.
It's something, anyway.
Today is the same as any of those other days. At the end of it, after she's come back to this apartment, she finds herself pacing. She circles it, then huffs a sigh and lifts her phone.
Can I come over? This apartment is too small.
She sends the text to Greta and hopes that she's been out of Fairy Tale Land, or whatever the fuck it's called, that she knows how to text, even if these phones are a little small.
It's something, anyway.
Today is the same as any of those other days. At the end of it, after she's come back to this apartment, she finds herself pacing. She circles it, then huffs a sigh and lifts her phone.
Can I come over? This apartment is too small.
She sends the text to Greta and hopes that she's been out of Fairy Tale Land, or whatever the fuck it's called, that she knows how to text, even if these phones are a little small.
(no subject)
Apr. 12th, 2017 08:21 pmEight days.
It's been eight days since she stepped out of her house and onto the train. Eight days without Cid. Eight days with no idea how he is, or if Joe's done his part.
Eight days of slowly climbing up the walls in this tiny apartment in this crowded city.
She's gone out almost every day. The first day was to get groceries and clothes. Most days, she's out exploring the city, trying to find little ways out that maybe nobody's noticed. Today, she's ventured into the countryside. There are some empty houses that are beautiful. Some of them are in disrepair. Some are newly purchased and in the middle of renovations. Sara aches for her farmhouse.
On her way back to the apartment, she finds herself heading instead to a store. She needs ice cream, she decides. She hasn't had ice cream in a long ass time. She deserves it. She grabs a basket, just in case, and ends up grabbing condoms, too.
Condoms, ice cream, some cigarettes, a pack of lighters. Then into the baking aisle to get some ingredients for cookie dough.
Why not? She fucking deserves it.
It's been eight days since she stepped out of her house and onto the train. Eight days without Cid. Eight days with no idea how he is, or if Joe's done his part.
Eight days of slowly climbing up the walls in this tiny apartment in this crowded city.
She's gone out almost every day. The first day was to get groceries and clothes. Most days, she's out exploring the city, trying to find little ways out that maybe nobody's noticed. Today, she's ventured into the countryside. There are some empty houses that are beautiful. Some of them are in disrepair. Some are newly purchased and in the middle of renovations. Sara aches for her farmhouse.
On her way back to the apartment, she finds herself heading instead to a store. She needs ice cream, she decides. She hasn't had ice cream in a long ass time. She deserves it. She grabs a basket, just in case, and ends up grabbing condoms, too.
Condoms, ice cream, some cigarettes, a pack of lighters. Then into the baking aisle to get some ingredients for cookie dough.
Why not? She fucking deserves it.
