fadeoutwolf
Shades of Grey
Independent Silent Hill roleplay blog for Carietta Wolf, nee Bachman. Trigger heavy, specifically concerning spousal abuse. Follows from thundersflower.
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“Oh--”
She dries her hands on a dishtowel and rolls down her sleeves. Her cheek is swollen and purpleing. It’ll be even uglier in the morning.
“Thank you. They’re pretty. I’ll-- I’ll find a vase, hold on, it’s around here somewhere...”
@fadeoutwolf
He ducks his head like a naughty child. Avoids her gaze. Avoids looking at her bruises.
“I got you flowers.”
They’re fresh-cut, still crisp, a variety he’s never grown. Five dollars at the supermarket.
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“He wasn’t.” She leans into George’s arm. She barely has any weight to her at all. “He treated me terribly, I know, but he wasn’t a monster. I know it sounds like I’m making excuses for him, but he really could be sweet, sometimes. He brought me flowers from the garden. He’d rattle on about history and he’d just seem so happy I was listening to him.”
Carrie stares, dull-eyed, at a dark, greasy stain on the wallpaper.
“I know everyone in town thought I was an idiot for staying. I was an idiot for staying. But he needed me.”
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“Dahlia Gillespie was a-- a bitch, and I never liked her.”
She never used to sound that angry-- not about anything. It’s harder to hide, in death.
“How could he do that? He never would have-- he wasn’t a kind man, I know that, but as mean as he could be, he’d never--”
@fadeoutwolf
“He did.”
Absently he wonders how she knows. George slides an arm round her shoulders, breathing the scent of her, holding her close in the stinging chill.
“There was–was talk of taking her away.I woulda brought her up. Couldn’t–couldn’t get the Gillespie woman on my side–”
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The nightmare's too clear, too mundane. Leonard's kneeling on the bathroom floor, gasping, bright pink with exertion. In the dingy tub something's struggling. Leonard flinches, eyes screwing up, as a splash hits him. "Stay down--" He's begging. He's terrified.
A mess of tangled, yellow hair writhes in the water, skinny legs kicking, ragged nails digging into his arms.
The air wails around them. Something throws Leonard back across the bathroom, and the sink cracks as his weight slams into it. The pale little girl scrambles out of the tub, coughing and gasping and hiccuping sobs, and she’s off like a shot out of the room, out of the house, into the arms of the woman who will twist her into the weapon she’s been needing.
Carrie is huddled in the corner of the church’s bathroom, its tiles gray with mold. She looks up at George in the doorway, eyes wide and lost.
“He tried to drown her. He tried to drown our little girl.”
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😂
“That fella up at the last stop is a-- not Wyatt, Wyatt’s a sweetheart, of course. The other guy. Kyle? Kyle. He was always just... rude. For no reason. And then I found out that he’s been... what’s the term? Groundhog-day-ing? Doing that to Wyatt, and just... He’s an asshole.”
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“I’m fine--” Carrie swallows hard, squeezes her eyes shut. Deep breaths, deep breaths. “I’m fine. I am. Just-- it’s just been a tough day.”
She lifts the pack of cigarettes a hair. “These will help.”
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“Oh-- oh, Wyatt, you don’t have to...”
Ohh no, here come the tears. She doesn’t know what to do with these hormones--
“Sorry, sorry, I just--”
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@cxttonteethviolence
She counts the coins on the countertop. Frowns. Counts them again.
Carrie Wolf flashes a small, brittle smile.
“Sorry. Guess-- guess I won’t be having those cigarettes today.”
Oh, god, if she starts crying here of all places...
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“You shouldn’t say that...”
Yet another thing that didn’t need to be said out loud. It just makes everything worse.
“I can-- I can take some jobs around town, taking in clothes, that sort of thing. It-- it won’t be much, but money’s money. Maybe my brother can pitch in, I know you don’t like each other, but maybe...”
“We can hope it dies in your womb, I suppose.”
He almost spits it.
Today he’s kept his head down, speaking only when spoken to, repairing an AC unit for some bleating tourist and his mistress. The utility bill’s covered for another month.
But Leonard’s last nerve is fraying.
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She hunches in on herself. It’s been what she’s been telling herself since she found out about her condition.
Hearing it out loud doesn’t help.
“So what can we do? There’s nothing--”
“Your best isn’t good enough for a child, Carrie.”
It’s as wounded as it is exasperated.
He knows he’s hurting her, he supposes. He does not much care.
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“It’s happened, alright?”
She keeps fidgeting with her sleeves, frowning down at the floor.
“We’ll just have to-- to do our best, won’t we? That’s all we can...”
“You know I can’t–”
He stops short, the words already halfway out of his mouth.
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“We’ll be fine.”
She doesn’t believe it. It’s painfully obvious she doesn’t believe it.
“Not much we can do about it now, is there?”
@fadeoutwolf
He’s clutching his head again, rocking back and forth.
“I can’t be a father, Carrie.”
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He has, she’ll give him that.
Still.
“Yer eyes are the same.” She murmurs. “Behind those glasses, at least. And yer hair still does-- the thing, like it used to, like...” She reaches up to tousle his bangs slightly. “Like that.”
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“I look like--” Her brow creases for a moment in confusion, then quickly gives way to a laugh.
“You’re still sweet. I was-- a little worried. That you’d changed, or I was remembering you wrong. I’m glad you’re still sweet.”
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“Yeah, you never really struck me as a superstitious type.”
She’s cold as the grave, but that doesn’t seem to stop her from smiling.
“Wasn’t exactly expecting to stick around, myself. Sometimes I don’t. But when I was here, I missed you.”
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@cxttonteethviolence
“I know you did.”
She reaches out, tracing the wrinkles on his face, rubbing her thumb against the roughness of his beard.
“Still. I missed you.”
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She thinks about it.
“Yes.” She says, after a while. “As okay as I ever am, of course. As anyone around here ever is. But-- I’m okay.”
She presses her lips to his cheek.
“You help. A lot.”
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