How many times have you thought to yourself if only I talked less, none of this would happen. If I learnt how to keep my mouth shut, everyone would move on in their ignorance and I wouldn't have to go through ordeal all too well known and expected of being scolded reprimanded shushed for speaking my mind.
Peace is fractured ice in winter that permanently teases coming of spring if you are brave enough to break through. But there is always someone waiting on surface with hammer and axe to push you back under.
It's not the truth that scares.
Aftermath is foreseeable agony. No weather check needs to announce emergency alarm for storm that is hurling once unleashed.
To fight injustice with scarred armor is to walk through downpour in tattered raincoat and wonder later how you caught cold.
Y/n slept counted hours filled notebooks with filthy words in flowery handwriting. There were no books here but old photo albums coughing dust and history is best to leave unbothered. In house of screaming people, even ghosts hide grateful they have somewhere to escape.
Our ghosts are ashamed of ourselves.
Thought brought small smiles to y/p face. John didn't believe in ghosts. He would tease you till you were both rolling on the floor, him trickling you then nuzzling his face in your neck and cuddling in tight warm embrace till it was time to part. He knew how much you needed someone to just hold you tight to feel presence of another heart close to yours to calm you down and convince yours it's alive and loved and acknowledged. You would wrap yourself in his hug and he would watch you silently as you gave yourself to calm you only ever felt when you were together, calm washing over your heart leaving demons stranded cut off for time being.
but john is brave; he does what he wants and he never gets caught.
All your bravery ever brought you is running away crying yourself to sleep telling yourself to breath soothing your heart that everything will be okay. No one ever listened to you. They treated your words like child's blabbering, like you haven't went through shit to see the truth
But john saw you.
'I will marry you whenever you say you are ready'
And you would thousand times already if there weren't your mother's tears flowing in your memory and father's helplessness to take back words make them unsaid.
Her relationship with John and Shelby fam had nothing to do with fact that she was being held as prisoner in her grandmother's home. It was the words she spoke, the bravery to talk back. Psycho granny who cant deal with world changing, people leaving, so she inserts herself in narrative as tyrannic matriarch when irl she is nothing but nuisance. Except when she locks you up, and leaves you to starve hoping it will teach you some respect and love. Funny how people believe you can force someone to respect you. Respect is earned. As for love, most elusive force of universe, yet there are still people out there who demand it like it's another thing you can trade on market. Suppose you can. But not the real kind.
John was one person who came into y/n's life and made breathing and loving seem like easiest things in world. They were best of pals, he never asked of her anything, but to be happy. When she was sad, he would go out of his way to make her laugh again, for he knew storms are here to pass and making it to the other side is always easier with friend by your side.
His adoration with y/n was evident to everyone, besotted from head to toe, if needed he would burn down every fucker and whole world that dared spill tears down y/n's cheeks. It was his girl. No one was allowed to mess with what is most prescious to Shelbys.
Y/n tried the door knob. Ran y/p fingers between door and frame gripping on surface testing to pull it open, scratching y/p nails down the wall then running back under covers before someone came and saw what y/p has done.
Time passed no one came. It seemed the world forgot about just another child who thought too much.
Did Shelby's really didn't notice their friend missing?
