Sleepy Hollow Imagines

Imagine Ichabod telling you it will be alright

Sometimes you just need to be told that everything is going to be alright. I know I seed someone to tell me that today. Because everything is going to be okay...

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He heard sniffing noises. They came from somewhere back in the house. On his guard, he made his way through the hallway. 

Pictures of him and Abbie hung on both walls. Some of them taken before they got engaged, some of them after. Like that picture taken in front of the Eiffel Tower when it snowed so heavenly. It had been a perfect day.

There was no time to reminise. Someone had cried in their house before.

A ghost from long ago that he didn't wish to see again. 

Ichabod poked his head around the corner. There was no evil ghost woman surrounded in water this time. It was you. He frowned. He coughed to make his presence known. 

You spun around, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

"I... forgive me for startling you. I thought I heard someone crying." Crane awkwardly looked at the wall. "This may sound like a question that doesn't need to be asked, but... How are you doing?"

You smiled through your tears, looking down at your lap. "Simply amazing" you whispered.

Ichabod took a step forward. His eyes focused on you. "Now, I am no expert on human emotions but that doesn't seem to be accurate. The distress you are in is quite clear." 

"I simply feel like my whole life is slipping down a dark hole that I can't get out of. As though nothing I do makes any difference." You meet his eyes. "What is the point of living when all life does is dragging you down?"

Ichabod blinked a few times. He carefully studied your face. "Life-"

"And sometimes I just don't see the point anymore. Why bother getting out of bed when you just know that life is going to throw some more shit at you? I am just so tired." Your eyes teared up.

"Now, look" Ichabod said, kneeling down in front of you. His hands were resting on the sofa. "Life throws, as you put it, faeces at us from time to time to test us. We are strong and together with our friends and family we overcome those... step over those faeces."

Your smile was a tired one. 

"Look at me." He waited until you met his eyes. "Life will never be a walk in the park. If it were you would stop appreciating the good in your life. Then it stops being a 'good' time and simply transforms into a 'normal' time. We need the bad to fully enjoy the good."

"That is rubbish."

Ichabod nodded, thinking. "I can see why you would say so." He sat down on the ground to think. "As Franklin put it; Without continual growth and progress, such words as improvement, achievement, and success have no meaning." He smiled proudly.

You supported your head with one hand. "How can I grow when they won't let me into the college I have always dreamed of going to?"

Realization dawned on Ichabod. "You were declined for the art school you applied to?"

You nodded. 

"Well, what were the reasons for the declination you received? Surely they informed you of the grounds they decided to decline you on?"

You shook your head. "No, they didn't. Just a formal, standard letter about how I simply didn't meet all of their criteria. No pointers of what I should work on, not a word about what exactly I could improve on."

Ichabod' mouth dropped. "This is outrageous! We will write them a polite but yet firm letter to tell them exactly how we feel about their institution. How dare they not convey the very reason for your declination?"

He went on to search for paper and a pen as he continued his speech about the institutions of modern day America. 

"Ichabod?"

"And to think that we fought for the freedom for everyone to go to school. Absolute nonsense!"

"Ichabod."

"I will have them know what I think of their 'art' school. Preposterous."

"ICHABOD!"

He halted. When you patted on the empty space beside you, he sat down. Finally.

"It is very sweet of you that you want to help me. I can already tell you that you won't get a reply back." He opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to silence him. "They have their choice in students because too many apply."

You took a deep breath. "I simply didn't make the cut. And that would be fine if I had a back-up plan. Right now I just feel like I should be further down the road that is called my life. Like I am not where I should be right now. I should be further now that I am this old."

"Who determines that?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Who determines where you should be in life at any given age?"

You frowned. "I guess no one. But shouldn't I have already accomplished something? Or at least have finished something by now? Shouldn't I know already what I want to do with my life?"

Ichabod smiled. "There are few who go through life knowing exactly where they want to go and follow through. Or get handed the rights cards in their life time. Many of us don't know where we're going. But there isn't some sort of measurement that can determine how well you are doing in life. And I, for one, think that you are doing just fine."

"Thank you Ichabod" you spoke softly.

He nodded. "You are welcome. You know, (y/n), everything is going to be alright. Or, as your generation puts it; everything is going to be okay."