hayward dunn // d7
Jul 12, 2019 15:08:31 GMT -5
Post by fireflyz on Jul 12, 2019 15:08:31 GMT -5
Hayward Darton Augustine Dunn.
Wayward Hayward, that's what they called her. Not only did she not know who she was, but who she appeared to be was a fucking nightmare. Starting fights with the intent of finishing them, creating havoc wherever and whenever she could - yet, Hayward was not always this way.
She and her sister Leila were raised in a well-to-do, hardworking household, or rather their idea of a well-to-do, hardworking household. Their parents were out of the house most of the time, and when they returned home, most tasks were delegated to the children anyway. Leila was much older than Hayward and Angelique, and while the youngest Dunn was just growing up, the eldest was already finished with school and had shed the family name of Dunn to become an Augustine. Leila Augustine, a model citizen - she couldn't be any more different, or any more removed, from her baby sister.
Leila's baby sister became quite a terror early on, but it was all in jest. It was fun to vanish into the dead of night where no one could find her and pull pranks on her tablemates in class. As most babies do, Hayward would knock things onto the floor just to watch them fall, but this behavior continued throughout her childhood, to the point where it was no longer cute. She would be destructive and tremble her lip in apology every time. However, there was one area of Hayward's life that was untouchable: Angelique.
Leila had a daughter shortly after getting married, and this would be Hayward's niece. Yet, since Hayward and Angelique were so close in age (only a year and a half apart), they were more like sisters. They were inseparable. Wherever one spotted Hayward, Angelique would soon be in tow. The two certainly didn't look alike - Hayward had deep brown eyes and a more rounded face, while Angelique had Leila's hazel eyes, reddish-blonde hair, and sharper features - but it was difficult to tell where the havoc began and where it ended. Not to mention the fact that Angelique bore Leila's maiden name of Dunn, rather than her married name Augustine; "It's still who I am," Leila explained. "I want Angie to be close to the family."
That, in hindsight, should have alerted Hayward to the fact that not all was as it seemed.
The next indicators were her parents. Her mother was often cheeky about her age, saying that she was 25 every year, but it was evident that she was older than that. Her father, on the other hand, was honest about the fact that he was already nearing 50 when Hayward was born, and that his wife was five years younger than he. The year Hayward turned 17 was the year her father turned 65. It would have been hard for her parents to have children at the age that they did, especially in Seven, but not impossible. Right?
The most important thing about her parents' ages was that they were incredibly old-fashioned. Always reminding her that this was not how a true Dunn would act, what kind of wife would she be, they ask us how we raised you, why can't you be like Leila? They were never truly present when Hayward wanted emotional support, but they'd be there to scold her for the dumb shit she did, guaranteed. While she could be overdramatic and uncontrollable at times, the one thing she always was was remorseful. Yet, for Mother and Father Dunn, sorry was never enough. It was like she was never meant to be with them, be part of this family. They loved her, sure, but they also seemed to resent her. Even when she went to Leila's house, it was like her sister looked at her with a sad glint in her eye. How can you be this way? her eyes would ask. Soon, Hayward learned to avoid the stare and head straight to Angelique's room, where she'd curl up next to her niece-sister and drown out her surroundings.
On top of Leila's strange behavior around her, her husband would treat Hayward like the devil incarnate. It was like she wasn't meant to exist anywhere without scrutiny. Each time Hayward would squabble with him, Angelique would meekly try to intervene before waiting until the argument died off to talk to her aunt. My father's just like that. It doesn't have anything to do with you, she'd plead. But Hayward knew better. He doted on his daughter. She didn't belong to him, didn't belong with Leila and Angelique. It was crystal clear.
Once, Hayward asked her father how Leila could marry a man like that. "Because she had to," her father answered, shuffling his dinner around with a spoon. He did not look at her. "He wanted her hand, we made arrangements for them to marry."
"But how can you do that? What about free will?"
Her father made eye contact with her for the first time since they had sat at the table. Her mother was out of the house somewhere. They were alone. He would tell her the truth that her mother wouldn't.
"Leila showed us that she couldn't be trusted with her choices. We had to quell the issue as soon as possible, far faster than we anticipated."
They quelled Leila like they quelled her.
Hayward wondered what her sister could have possibly done. In the years coming up to this point, seventeen years of age, she had slowly reined herself in, become more straight-edge. She still had a rebellious streak, but she tried to curb this streak into a speck. Angelique did the same; she was the sweet one. She lived up to her name. She was just as much of a model citizen as her parents. What could perfect Mrs. Augustine have done wrong in order to be treated in such a way? The truth began to come out in spades.
Mr. and Mrs. Augustine got into an argument one night, shortly after Hayward had arrived. Miss Dunn and Mr. Augustine may or may not have made some retorts at each other, but Hayward was certainly justified. He would never see that, though. She and Angelique pressed their ears against the latter's bedroom door, listening to the chaos.
"I'm so tired of you enabling this brat, Leila!"
"She's never done a thing to you, Ryland. You just don't want to see her."
"Of course I don't want to see her. She's destroying our family. She ropes Angelique into her nonsense the first chance she gets. Can't you see it? I don't want our daughter to turn out-"
"..turn out like me? Like I used to be?"
There was a pregnant pause before Ryland hissed through his teeth, "You should have left that bitch on the street instead of with your parents."
"She's my daughter! I wasn't going to leave her out there with no protection!"
And in that moment, Hayward's entire world crumbled. She suddenly understood - or, at least, could piece together some understanding. She was Leila's daughter. She was why her sister - her mother - got married. She was probably the reason Angelique existed. Angelique was her sister. As the realization dawned on her, she made eye contact with Angelique. Her eyes lingered for a moment, before she stood up and yanked open the door, careful not to hit her newfound sibling in the head.
Leila and Ryland continued to argue, but their voices became lower when they heard footsteps rapidly approaching. The living room slowly came into view, and once Hayward caught sight of the two's startled faces, she couldn't stop the crazed grin from overtaking her face.
"So I'm a bitch, huh, Ryland?" she challenged him. Leila's husband suddenly appeared alarmed, holding up his hands in surrender.
"Hayward, I didn't mean to upset you," he ventured cautiously.
Hayward raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the white vase that the Augustines cherished so. At the moment it contained more grass than flowers, but they still treated it like gold, perched atop a hardwood table ever since their wedding. Hayward reached out and tapped a finger against it, before swiping the vase off the table with her hand. She watched it fall. Leila let out a shriek as it crashed to the floor.
"I meant that, though."
Ryland spluttered angrily before starting towards Hayward, but it was at this moment that Angelique appeared from the hallway and flung herself in front of him.
"Dad, don't hurt her!"
"Hayward, please don't be like this," Leila pleaded.
"Oh, I'm sorry, mom. You didn't raise me right," Hayward taunted. She picked up a bowl of fruit from the table and threw it down with as much force as possible, watching as the fruit tumbled, became bruised, left trails in their wake. A bad apple spoils the bunch, indeed.
"I did it for your own good. I was 18, I wasn't ready to raise a child. It was best that my parents took care of you."
"But they didn't! No one did!"
There was silence for a while, and then an eruption. It was hard to recall what happened after that. More shouting, more destruction on Hayward's part. When she stormed out of the house, she could feel Angelique watching her with sad eyes. For the first time in forever, Hayward cried - sobbed even. Everything she knew had been shattered in a single moment. She wasn't a Dunn. She was no one. She had nothing to prove anymore.
When she returned home, she immediately went into her father - her grandfather's embrace. Even though she had no idea who she was, and hardly knew who he was, she knew he was safe. She'd still have a place to return to when she left terror in her tracks.
After all, she wasn't quite raised right. The only difference was that she wasn't apologizing anymore.
WORD COUNT: 1624
