:|If|:|I|:|Had|:|It|:|My|:|Way|: {Tsarashi}

[peanutpie]

Phoenix Medona

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“I want you to love me…
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession…”

Phoenix slipped the simple green shirt over her head. The tent was pleasantly cool, and as she looked at her sleeping siblings, she sighed and blinked twice, reminding herself of the way that she used to sleep in forever.

Her Mother sat in the corner, propped against the wooden chair that Phoenix used for bringing home school work. She was half-asleep, with her lazy eye observing her daughter with an half amused, half-demented way. Her Mother had always been a little bit on the sad, and pathetic side.

"Goodbye, Mother." She said in a careful way, trying to let her voice ring instead of change itself. If she used the wrong tone, she probably would be able to create a conversation with her mother. Phoenix, who was decently intelligent, didn't want to get into an "intellectual" conversation with a woman who'd had eight children, and couldn't financially support them.

It made her sick to her stomach as she closed the tent flap behind her and stepped out onto the street. She lived in the part of the district that was on the woods side, where the leaves would crinkle when you'd step on them. The poorer side of town, in most opinions. She crossed her fingers as she stepped onto the dirt road, hoping to find her obsession within eyesight.

No Bear. She sighed slightly, before stepping onto her tiptoes and turning around on them to face the tent. She heard a rattling of pots and the scream of a small child.

Good 'Ol Mom.

Yes, the same Mom that was fairly pretty, and killed all eight of her lovers. And she didn't have a speck of jail time for it, mostly because she claimed insanity for it. So, they let her Mother go, as long as they "Didn't hear about it again." But, of course, by the time they found out, they forgot about the entire offense, and with the batting of her Mothers eyelashes, she was released.

Out to kill another life. Good 'Ol Mom. The very woman who's sanity sent her own daughters overboard, probably driving her to the stalking she was accustomed to. She brought her head to the bottom of the tent, before finally putting one foot infront of the other and taking a swirling pattern into the dirt. Her bare feet felt a little raw from hitting a rock in the twirling process, but when she looked out to the horizon, she saw the street path that contained the small trees across from the tent.

The spot where her first memory was. Before Mom went into insanity and murder. She shuddered, smiling at the thought. She just remembered... running. In circles, her arms extended out. She smiled, and then looked backwards towards the tent. Today she was being perfectly sentimental about that, for some reason.

With hesitation, she closed her eyes and thought harder. Could she remember her Father? She pictured a dark haired man, with light skin and the same black-frame glasses. Yep, the same image from the picture she found stuffed in her Mothers cigarette carton.

The one where he sat at a kitchen table of some variety, wearing a blue sweater. He seemed to be the type of district six dweller who worked in the scientific research field, probably curing some disease or another. The dark hair was cut in a particuarly nerdy fashion, meant for practicality. It seemed to be glossed down, if anything, slightly. It was the hair texture that was probably slightly curly, the type that never stayed the way you wanted it to, explaining the hair gel that was smeared in it. He had dark brown eyes, a medium sized nose and a mouth that was thin. The black frames he wore were slightly put on the edge of his nose, giving him almost a snarky quality. In one hand, he held a green coffee cup, and the other was placed on the table. He had a slight smile on his face, one that was saying "I know, just don't take a picture of me."

Phoenix remembered finding the picture when she was yet again watching the children who lived under her Mothers household. She had left the metal cigarette box around, and out of curiosity, she had opened it, and found the picture. On the back, it was labled "Johnatho" and the year Phoenix was born. And, just by common knowlege, she knew that she looked simmilar to the person on the picture. And her Mother had told her his first name, when she wasn't in a rage of craziness.

Fingering her top, she finally strode towards the street, her footprints echoing with eachother. She sighed, and finally decided to do something. She jumped up, landing back on her feet. And, something fell out of her pocket.

It was a ribbon, but important noneless. She decided to consult a girl who was walking by. "Hello? Have you seen my ribbon?"

“I want you to want me
I want you to need me
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession.”

[Tsarashi 2.0]

Astatine smoothed the wrinkles out of her long grey cotton skirt as she sat silently on the living room floor of her family's small two bedroom home to read a book. She knew that her comfort was a luxury, what with the job her father had. Before they lived here they owned a home that was big enough for each person in the family to have their own room. Her Father even had a study. But that was before her Mother died.

Currently she had to share a bedroom with her older brother Joule, which was why she took to the living room more often than their shares abode. She loved her brother, but she also knew that he liked his space and she preferred silence when reading. Joule always was the talkative one. He would be moving out soon anyway now that he was twenty one and ready to settle down into his chosen career path.

She propped open her book on her lap, but not before looking at the clock. It was early, but not too early, meaning that her father would be at work by now. He left without saying good bye again.

Before she was half way into the first paragraph in her book Joule sauntered from his room, through her space and to the kitchen. She peeked over to the doorway where the clattering of cups and the sounds of the faucet spewing water grabbed her attention. As usual his mind took a while before it caught up with him. "Morning Asta."

Astatine smiled at his predictability. She was well into the first page of her physics book when a piece of paper fell onto her lap. She looked up to see where it might have come from when she found herself face to face with her much taller brother, startling her and causing a yip of surprise to rise from her throat. She didn't even hear him walk across the room!

"You have a chore today." He said, not even bothering to hide his amusement. "You know where that is... right? I could do it if you're not up to it."

Picking up the slip of paper she read;

‘Sweetie,
Be a darling and drop off that package to Mrs. S. across town. You remember her right? Today’s the anniversary of her boy’s death and I wanted her to know that we were still thinking about her. She’ll love to see you again.
Thanks a bunch,
Daddy.’

A smile twitched at the edge of her lips. Her father was a fruitcake, she knew that, but he was her fruitcake. When he decided to take on the responsibilities of being both Father and Mother he probably took them on a little headstrong.

Her brother nudged her, waiting for an answer and she simply looked up at him, smiled and nodded. He remained unconvinced that she could handle the job but she reassured him by saying “I can do this” before falling quiet once again. He smiled down at her, slapped his knee and got up to leave. “You remember where it is? It’s in the Seam.” She simply nodded and placed her book to the side before getting to her feet. “Be careful!” he called out to her just as she left, package in hand.

The walk was mostly uneventful, but very peaceful. She had chosen the most shadowed path to getting to the Seam as a caution to her sensitive skin. She hated getting sunburns. The street was not the biggest street that there was to that part of town, but it was the quickest way to getting there from the main center square. She might live in the finest main part of town, but this was still the path that she always took.

Not many other people were on the street yet, seeing as it was still considered morning, but a girl younger than herself was just about to pass her when she stopped and asked “Hello? Have you seen my ribbon?”

Astatine jumped from being addressed so suddenly and looked down at the girl who was not much shorter than herself. Briefly she took a second to look around herself before shaking her head a negative and skittering ahead with the package clutched close to her chest. She slowed when she felt she was at a safe distance from the stranger, that being only about twenty feet. Slowing to almost a stop when something caught her attention on the ground in front of her she looked down at it. Unblinking she practically stared at it before picking up the ribbon delicately. Looking back at the girl quickly she realized that it was hers, but she was no longer looking at her. She considered calling out to her, but that would bring attention to herself. Looking around her to make sure that there was nobody suspicious she clutched the ribbon to her chest and started to jog back to the girl.

When she reached her, less than forty feet later, Astatine reached her hand out and tapped her shoulder as if it were made of glass and held out to the lost ribbon. But even that short of a run had done a number on her weak legs and she found herself on her knees, panting lightly.

[peanutpie]

"Thank You!" Phoenix smiled, tucking the ribbon more securely into her pocket. It still hung out of the simple jeans a little bit, but it was unable to fly out. It was a red ribbon, simplistic in nature and quite pretty. One of the few pretty things in the tent

WIP

“I want you to want me
I want you to need me
I want you to hear my confession
I want to be your obsession.”