16 dinners failed
[Action, in the house]
[He was droned, and had been for longer than he should have. She tried not to think much on it, as it upset her more than it should. So instead, she tried to busy herself with cleaning around the house. It was an absentminded attempt, however, and she ended up walking around more than actually cleaning.
Until she stumbled into his study.
At first she just looked around, brushing her fingers across his desk, sitting at his chair and leafing through the papers. She wanted to cry, even though she kept telling herself that he'd come back. Telling herself that things would go back to normal. Because people get droned all the time, didn't they? And they often came back...right?
Yet she couldn't shake the doubt, the fear that she would be wrong, and it sends her into a panic.
What did you do!? She thinks to herself, her breath catching. What did you do to deserve this? Her forehead slumps forward to rest on the desk. Worried and tired and stressed, she starts to cry. Come back. She just wanted him back.
She doesn't know how long she sits, but after a while she just...runs out of tears. Yet, there was still a knot of feeling in her gut. It hurt and in a desperate attempt to make it go away, she grabs the nearest book and tosses it at a wall.]
Why did it have to be you!? [She screams, watching as the book falls to the ground, landing face down and open. For a long time she just stares, trying so very hard to calm her breathing.
It doesn't work, and the tears return.
Eventually, she walks over to pick up what she threw, only to discover it was a journal. His journal.
She starts to leaf through it idly, watching as his handwriting changes from entry to entry. She stops on a page, to scan through. She needed something with his 'voice'. Something that wasn't the drones cheerful banter. Something that was him.
So she reads the page:
"February 13, year 2
Flora is not my wife. Flora is not my wife. Flor
a is not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is
not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not m
y wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not my wif
e. Simon is not my son. I do not live in Mayfiel
d, America. Flora is not my wife. Simon is not m
y son. I do not live in Mayfield, America. Flora
is not my wife. Simon is not my son. I do not li
ve in Mayfield, America. Flora is not my wife, n
or is simon my son, just as that Nia girl is not,
either. The two of them I only happend to meet t
hrough a series of events. My home is in London.
I have a goal that I must not loose sight of whi
le staying in this town. I can't forget what he
did. I will not be fooled by this town. Not ever."
She drops the book, staring in horror.]
[Over the phones // Filtered from drones]
L-Luke he...a journal...I-I.
[Her voice cracks, and she pauses to calm herself.]
It's...just like that note from Westport. It's the same and...Please tell me it's different. I don't want him to be gone.
[He was droned, and had been for longer than he should have. She tried not to think much on it, as it upset her more than it should. So instead, she tried to busy herself with cleaning around the house. It was an absentminded attempt, however, and she ended up walking around more than actually cleaning.
Until she stumbled into his study.
At first she just looked around, brushing her fingers across his desk, sitting at his chair and leafing through the papers. She wanted to cry, even though she kept telling herself that he'd come back. Telling herself that things would go back to normal. Because people get droned all the time, didn't they? And they often came back...right?
Yet she couldn't shake the doubt, the fear that she would be wrong, and it sends her into a panic.
What did you do!? She thinks to herself, her breath catching. What did you do to deserve this? Her forehead slumps forward to rest on the desk. Worried and tired and stressed, she starts to cry. Come back. She just wanted him back.
She doesn't know how long she sits, but after a while she just...runs out of tears. Yet, there was still a knot of feeling in her gut. It hurt and in a desperate attempt to make it go away, she grabs the nearest book and tosses it at a wall.]
Why did it have to be you!? [She screams, watching as the book falls to the ground, landing face down and open. For a long time she just stares, trying so very hard to calm her breathing.
It doesn't work, and the tears return.
Eventually, she walks over to pick up what she threw, only to discover it was a journal. His journal.
She starts to leaf through it idly, watching as his handwriting changes from entry to entry. She stops on a page, to scan through. She needed something with his 'voice'. Something that wasn't the drones cheerful banter. Something that was him.
So she reads the page:
"February 13, year 2
Flora is not my wife. Flora is not my wife. Flor
a is not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is
not my wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not m
y wife. Simon is not my son. Flora is not my wif
e. Simon is not my son. I do not live in Mayfiel
d, America. Flora is not my wife. Simon is not m
y son. I do not live in Mayfield, America. Flora
is not my wife. Simon is not my son. I do not li
ve in Mayfield, America. Flora is not my wife, n
or is simon my son, just as that Nia girl is not,
either. The two of them I only happend to meet t
hrough a series of events. My home is in London.
I have a goal that I must not loose sight of whi
le staying in this town. I can't forget what he
did. I will not be fooled by this town. Not ever."
She drops the book, staring in horror.]
[Over the phones // Filtered from drones]
L-Luke he...a journal...I-I.
[Her voice cracks, and she pauses to calm herself.]
It's...just like that note from Westport. It's the same and...Please tell me it's different. I don't want him to be gone.