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For justprompts picture prompt
(Set at some indiscernible time in RP future.)
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, it’s warm copper kettles and…
No, that’s not right. She’s forgotten the words. She only saw the movie once and it was so long ago, but when she’s not feeling well she hears whimsical songs and nursery rhymes in her head. They make her feel safer.
She’s in school, but the room is a little hazy. It’s red around the edges of her vision and freezing in the classroom. She would have asked to stay home but there was no one to ask. So she came, in her uniform and itchy knee socks and her chest feels so warm but the rest of her is freezing. She can’t pay attention to the lesson on the board. She puts her head down on her desk and tried to think of more words.
Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies…
She used to sing that in the backyard, picking dandelions. The sun shone. Her mother smiled. Her father was at work but he’d be home soon. Everything was perfect. No one yelled at each other. No one left.
Her father told her dandelions were weeds and not to blow on their wispy orbs and make a wish. It would just spread more weeds. The song, the rings around rosies? It was about a terrible plague. A virus. It wiped out almost a third of the population. Bodies were buried with posies. The song wouldn’t exist if someone had been smart enough to develop a cure. All those people could have been perfect, if only someone had done a little experimenting.
She’s drenched in sweat. The teacher rushes over, feels her forehead. Demands she see the nurse. She gets up and wanders downstairs, yes she knows the way, no she’s fine, really. Being sick means Mom will have to leave work, and Mom works so hard. Instead she goes to the bathroom, turns on the tap water to lukewarm, splashes it on her face. Lukewarm water brings a fever down, she remembers. She’s been sick before, in the middle of the night burning up, in a lukewarm bathtub with Mommy in her nightgown, so happy she was there. Her father read to her and she fell asleep. Even miserable with sickness she was so happy, so happy they were there.
She wants them but she doesn’t want them. She doesn’t want to cause any more trouble.
Her throat constricts and she starts coughing, as if swallowing down the wrong pipe but she hadn’t swallowed, she’s just coughing. It gets worse and she doubles over, covering her mouth with both hands, less chance of spreading infection that way. She must have a real doozy of a virus, maybe she should go to the nurse, maybe she’ll get to go home and be in bed with Mom there and Daddy will read again. It’s all she wants, suddenly, never mind Barbies and silly concerts, just her parents, just to be safe and not sick.
The coughing subsides and she straightens up, but the room spins. She pitches forward, palms slapping the white tile wall in front of her. When she steps back her hand prints are glazed on the wall in red. She looks down at her hands, still damp, and only then does she register the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Then she feels light, and sleepy.
Like ashes, ashes, all of her falls down.
-
Picture here
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, it’s warm copper kettles and…
No, that’s not right. She’s forgotten the words. She only saw the movie once and it was so long ago, but when she’s not feeling well she hears whimsical songs and nursery rhymes in her head. They make her feel safer.
She’s in school, but the room is a little hazy. It’s red around the edges of her vision and freezing in the classroom. She would have asked to stay home but there was no one to ask. So she came, in her uniform and itchy knee socks and her chest feels so warm but the rest of her is freezing. She can’t pay attention to the lesson on the board. She puts her head down on her desk and tried to think of more words.
Ring around the rosy, pocket full of posies…
She used to sing that in the backyard, picking dandelions. The sun shone. Her mother smiled. Her father was at work but he’d be home soon. Everything was perfect. No one yelled at each other. No one left.
Her father told her dandelions were weeds and not to blow on their wispy orbs and make a wish. It would just spread more weeds. The song, the rings around rosies? It was about a terrible plague. A virus. It wiped out almost a third of the population. Bodies were buried with posies. The song wouldn’t exist if someone had been smart enough to develop a cure. All those people could have been perfect, if only someone had done a little experimenting.
She’s drenched in sweat. The teacher rushes over, feels her forehead. Demands she see the nurse. She gets up and wanders downstairs, yes she knows the way, no she’s fine, really. Being sick means Mom will have to leave work, and Mom works so hard. Instead she goes to the bathroom, turns on the tap water to lukewarm, splashes it on her face. Lukewarm water brings a fever down, she remembers. She’s been sick before, in the middle of the night burning up, in a lukewarm bathtub with Mommy in her nightgown, so happy she was there. Her father read to her and she fell asleep. Even miserable with sickness she was so happy, so happy they were there.
She wants them but she doesn’t want them. She doesn’t want to cause any more trouble.
Her throat constricts and she starts coughing, as if swallowing down the wrong pipe but she hadn’t swallowed, she’s just coughing. It gets worse and she doubles over, covering her mouth with both hands, less chance of spreading infection that way. She must have a real doozy of a virus, maybe she should go to the nurse, maybe she’ll get to go home and be in bed with Mom there and Daddy will read again. It’s all she wants, suddenly, never mind Barbies and silly concerts, just her parents, just to be safe and not sick.
The coughing subsides and she straightens up, but the room spins. She pitches forward, palms slapping the white tile wall in front of her. When she steps back her hand prints are glazed on the wall in red. She looks down at her hands, still damp, and only then does she register the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Then she feels light, and sleepy.
Like ashes, ashes, all of her falls down.
-
Picture here
Belated prompt for justprompts
More completely ignoring the RP I'm in with Sherry... this may turn into a longer fanfic if I'm ambitious enough, mostly because writing Wesker is... interesting. And we don't have one in our game. >.>
This stuff happens immediately after the events of RE2.
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This stuff happens immediately after the events of RE2.
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Post for Posterity
justprompts: Peaceful Lake Retreat
RP Log: Revelation
Who: Sherry, William, eventually Annette
When: Present day, mid-morning
Where: Raccoon City, Birkin Residence
What: An unexpected turn of events changes the fate of the Birkin family. Also, William struggles to understand Hannah Montana, and is guilted into going to the beach.
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When: Present day, mid-morning
Where: Raccoon City, Birkin Residence
What: An unexpected turn of events changes the fate of the Birkin family. Also, William struggles to understand Hannah Montana, and is guilted into going to the beach.
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