Original; Fic; With Eyes Unclouded
Jun. 30th, 2020 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sperriTitle: With Eyes Unclouded
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Healing
Medium: Fic
Wordcount: 1,552 Words
Warnings: Internalized homophobia and religious conflicts. I also claim ownership and copyright of everything within because this is an original work and my intellectual property. No derivative works or otherwise may come of it without my express permission.
Summary: Dallas, editor for the school paper, embarks on a mission to debunk a myth concerning a girl who's rumored to be 'evil' because she does tarot readings in the cafeteria and has actually helped several students because of it. Her subject, Alexei, ends up doing a reading for her also and hits home harder than Dallas ever imagines possible.
Everyone has problems.
It doesn't matter who you are, either. Life has a funny of way of evening the odds and I've seen the most popular, well-to-do kids hit rock bottom easily. It's never a pretty sight, mind you, and I could never understand why kids of lesser privilege took pleasure in in their misfortune, but hey...who am I to judge?
I'm a Catholic girl attending public high school with a secret big enough to bust up my entire family.
The name is Dallas, reporting the news of Ben Frank High from an unbiased point of view that utilizes only the facts. If I allow my own personal experience or emtoions to taint a subject then it's no longer 'objective writing,' so I've learned to shut myself out. It's almost like standing outside of a building and looking through a window while someone else who happens to look like me does all the interviewing.
Yeah, I'm still working on that.
My subject this afternoon is reputed as being 'evil.'. Her name is Alexei, a relatively new student with Wiccan roots and a talent for Tarot readings, if I'm not mistaken. Neither one of those facts bother me all that much, but I had to tell a white lie to get out of volunteer work after mid-morning mass to get a chance to interview Alexei one-on-one.
Mom thinks we're study partners.
(Dad knows better, but he didn't stop me from going because he's far less orthodox.)
"Huh," I hum as I stop my bike in front of the given address. "Doesn't look like the abode of a wicked witch to me."
It's a charming piece of property, actually. Like something straight out of that Sandra Bullock movie, it's an old-fashioned cottage with a white garden gate at the entrance and rows of rosemary cluttered all around it.
Nothing about Alexei ever shrieked evil to me. Rumors are, simply put, grossly exaggerated and rarely have a kernel of truth to them as they're intended only to hurt. I'm more convinced as I lock my bike up and stroll through the gate to see an extensive garden on both sides of the stone walkway leading up to the front porch.
As I climb the steps, I spot a cat stretched out across a chair with its belly up. Not at all black like you would assume for a witch's pet, I think, and there's another myth debunked. It stretches and regards me with little more than a snort before drifting off to sleep again. Just as I'm about to rap at the front door, it suddenly opens.
"Welcome!" An elderly lady with a bright smile and youthful features greets me in sign language. "You must be Dallas, the news girl from Alexei's school, yes? Come in."
She reminds me of my late grandmother, who was also deaf, all plump and jolly. Her house also smells like Gram's used to, warm and like cinnamon. I notice potted plants practically everywhere, though, and my curiosity goads me into asking, "You have a garden both outside and in?"
We pause and peer into the kitchen, which explains a thing or two in regards to my question. A lot of plants are dried and hung from the wall for easier access, and atop the stove sits a little cauldron with a birch stick beside it and a few empty mason jars.
"I use all those plants in my potions and remedies," she signs and gestures to the cauldron. "In fact, I make a living doing it."
I grin and reply, "My Gram used to have a big garden, too, so that's why I asked. She used her crops to cook and bake for all the neighbors and even started a little business online!"
The older lady's smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. "I can see how intrepid she must have been when I look at you, child. She must be very proud of you, and although she isn't here to say so herself, you must believe that she is."
My mouth must be hanging open because she laughs a little and beckons for me to follow.
Towards the rear of the house is Alexei's bedroom, and when her grandmother opens the door, it isn't at all like the blighted kids back at school described; it's bright and full of sunshine, with the walls painted a minty green. What appears to be a small altar is situated near her bedside, complete with candles, crystals, a few feathers, and a worn leather journal.
Sitting on the bed cross-legged with her tarot deck in hand, Alexei looks up at us with a smile of her own. Her curly hair is braided back with little ends poking out here and there, framing her face nicely, and the way her eyes twinkle in the sunlight cause my heart to leap into my throat.
Keep it together, Dallas, I urge myself and swallow hard as I try to smile back at her.
I'm running a mental film reel of all of Father Daniel's sermons through my head at the moment, doing my best to remain at ease and resist the temptation to 'sin.'
"Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice," I sign to her with shaky fingers. "I like your room; green is my favorite color."
Alexei drops her box of cards and presses her hands to her cheeks with a mock gasp. "Just like in your profile!"
"You read my blog?" I ask her, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, I really enjoy reading your articles in the school paper, too. You have an unbiased viewpoint and you're really thorough in your work," she continues to praise me, making it that much more difficult to ignore my gut instincts. A stray strand of hair falls in front of her eyes and she flicks it back with a laugh, further enchanting me. "This may seem a bit forward, but may I do a reading for you before we start the interview?"
My eyes widen a bit. "Do you mind?"
"Would I offer if I did?" she signs with a wink. "Just sit here on the bed across from me. That's it."
She starts by shuffling her deck and then laying out cards in a particular order, and almost immediately, she frowns.
"I'm sorry about your grandmother," she signs and lifts her eyes from the cards momentarily. "You two were really close, weren't you? I get it. My grandma is all that I have and I don't know what I'd do without her."
I smile wryly and nod. "There was nothing I couldn't talk to her about, either. I wish she was still here."
Alexei smiles sympathetically and touches my hand briefly. "She's always watching over you, in the form of an animal, I suspect. Her spirit will never leave your side."
It's a comforting notion, I think, so I take it graciously and with a grateful smile of my own.
"You two had a secret," she signs to me, knitting her brows as she tries to read the cards laid out before her. "You're afraid to tell the rest of your family."
My heart is thundering in my rib cage and I bite my lower lip, nodding again.
Once she realizes what our secret may have been, Alexei snaps her head up so quickly that her neck pops a little. The unease plainly scrawled across my face is so obvious that she doesn't have to consult cards or spirits to see it. She reaches across the bed and touches my hand again, covering it entirely this time.
"It's okay. I won't tell anyone," she promises, signing with her other hand. "We can't choose whom we're attracted to or fall in love with, and frankly, I'm flattered."
The dam bursts and those pesky emotions I've kept at bay for what I thought was for the sake of professionalism flood my consciousness. Heat rises in my cheeks when I realize, yeah, Alexei isn't the wicked witch that worships the Devil and sacrifices puppies; she's a cute girl with an enormous heart and some amazing talent.
Alexei adds, "I'm sure God wouldn't hate you for simply being the person he made you to be, would he?"
All the conventional lies and self-hatred start to fall away as I stare into her eyes, and it's not like I'm going to run home to tell my folks, but at least I have some sense of validation. I smile through the tears misting my eyes and inhale sharply.
"I don't think so, no," I agree with her at length.
Realizing that her hand is still upon mine, Alexei quickly withdraws. "I'm sorry," she apologizes with a sheepish grin. "I'm a touchy-feely kind of person by nature."
It's my turn to grin this time and I take her hand in mine this time. I close my fingers around hers to reassure her, "Neither one of use has to apologize for who we are, right?"
Her cheeks are flushed as she looks up at me finally, smiling again.
It's just the beginning, I know, but it'll blossom into something bigger and beautiful someday soon I hope. When it does, I know that Gram will be cheering me on from the sidelines, and our secret won't have to be so secret anymore.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Healing
Medium: Fic
Wordcount: 1,552 Words
Warnings: Internalized homophobia and religious conflicts. I also claim ownership and copyright of everything within because this is an original work and my intellectual property. No derivative works or otherwise may come of it without my express permission.
Summary: Dallas, editor for the school paper, embarks on a mission to debunk a myth concerning a girl who's rumored to be 'evil' because she does tarot readings in the cafeteria and has actually helped several students because of it. Her subject, Alexei, ends up doing a reading for her also and hits home harder than Dallas ever imagines possible.
Everyone has problems.
It doesn't matter who you are, either. Life has a funny of way of evening the odds and I've seen the most popular, well-to-do kids hit rock bottom easily. It's never a pretty sight, mind you, and I could never understand why kids of lesser privilege took pleasure in in their misfortune, but hey...who am I to judge?
I'm a Catholic girl attending public high school with a secret big enough to bust up my entire family.
The name is Dallas, reporting the news of Ben Frank High from an unbiased point of view that utilizes only the facts. If I allow my own personal experience or emtoions to taint a subject then it's no longer 'objective writing,' so I've learned to shut myself out. It's almost like standing outside of a building and looking through a window while someone else who happens to look like me does all the interviewing.
Yeah, I'm still working on that.
My subject this afternoon is reputed as being 'evil.'. Her name is Alexei, a relatively new student with Wiccan roots and a talent for Tarot readings, if I'm not mistaken. Neither one of those facts bother me all that much, but I had to tell a white lie to get out of volunteer work after mid-morning mass to get a chance to interview Alexei one-on-one.
Mom thinks we're study partners.
(Dad knows better, but he didn't stop me from going because he's far less orthodox.)
"Huh," I hum as I stop my bike in front of the given address. "Doesn't look like the abode of a wicked witch to me."
It's a charming piece of property, actually. Like something straight out of that Sandra Bullock movie, it's an old-fashioned cottage with a white garden gate at the entrance and rows of rosemary cluttered all around it.
Nothing about Alexei ever shrieked evil to me. Rumors are, simply put, grossly exaggerated and rarely have a kernel of truth to them as they're intended only to hurt. I'm more convinced as I lock my bike up and stroll through the gate to see an extensive garden on both sides of the stone walkway leading up to the front porch.
As I climb the steps, I spot a cat stretched out across a chair with its belly up. Not at all black like you would assume for a witch's pet, I think, and there's another myth debunked. It stretches and regards me with little more than a snort before drifting off to sleep again. Just as I'm about to rap at the front door, it suddenly opens.
"Welcome!" An elderly lady with a bright smile and youthful features greets me in sign language. "You must be Dallas, the news girl from Alexei's school, yes? Come in."
She reminds me of my late grandmother, who was also deaf, all plump and jolly. Her house also smells like Gram's used to, warm and like cinnamon. I notice potted plants practically everywhere, though, and my curiosity goads me into asking, "You have a garden both outside and in?"
We pause and peer into the kitchen, which explains a thing or two in regards to my question. A lot of plants are dried and hung from the wall for easier access, and atop the stove sits a little cauldron with a birch stick beside it and a few empty mason jars.
"I use all those plants in my potions and remedies," she signs and gestures to the cauldron. "In fact, I make a living doing it."
I grin and reply, "My Gram used to have a big garden, too, so that's why I asked. She used her crops to cook and bake for all the neighbors and even started a little business online!"
The older lady's smile crinkles the corners of her eyes. "I can see how intrepid she must have been when I look at you, child. She must be very proud of you, and although she isn't here to say so herself, you must believe that she is."
My mouth must be hanging open because she laughs a little and beckons for me to follow.
Towards the rear of the house is Alexei's bedroom, and when her grandmother opens the door, it isn't at all like the blighted kids back at school described; it's bright and full of sunshine, with the walls painted a minty green. What appears to be a small altar is situated near her bedside, complete with candles, crystals, a few feathers, and a worn leather journal.
Sitting on the bed cross-legged with her tarot deck in hand, Alexei looks up at us with a smile of her own. Her curly hair is braided back with little ends poking out here and there, framing her face nicely, and the way her eyes twinkle in the sunlight cause my heart to leap into my throat.
Keep it together, Dallas, I urge myself and swallow hard as I try to smile back at her.
I'm running a mental film reel of all of Father Daniel's sermons through my head at the moment, doing my best to remain at ease and resist the temptation to 'sin.'
"Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice," I sign to her with shaky fingers. "I like your room; green is my favorite color."
Alexei drops her box of cards and presses her hands to her cheeks with a mock gasp. "Just like in your profile!"
"You read my blog?" I ask her, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah, I really enjoy reading your articles in the school paper, too. You have an unbiased viewpoint and you're really thorough in your work," she continues to praise me, making it that much more difficult to ignore my gut instincts. A stray strand of hair falls in front of her eyes and she flicks it back with a laugh, further enchanting me. "This may seem a bit forward, but may I do a reading for you before we start the interview?"
My eyes widen a bit. "Do you mind?"
"Would I offer if I did?" she signs with a wink. "Just sit here on the bed across from me. That's it."
She starts by shuffling her deck and then laying out cards in a particular order, and almost immediately, she frowns.
"I'm sorry about your grandmother," she signs and lifts her eyes from the cards momentarily. "You two were really close, weren't you? I get it. My grandma is all that I have and I don't know what I'd do without her."
I smile wryly and nod. "There was nothing I couldn't talk to her about, either. I wish she was still here."
Alexei smiles sympathetically and touches my hand briefly. "She's always watching over you, in the form of an animal, I suspect. Her spirit will never leave your side."
It's a comforting notion, I think, so I take it graciously and with a grateful smile of my own.
"You two had a secret," she signs to me, knitting her brows as she tries to read the cards laid out before her. "You're afraid to tell the rest of your family."
My heart is thundering in my rib cage and I bite my lower lip, nodding again.
Once she realizes what our secret may have been, Alexei snaps her head up so quickly that her neck pops a little. The unease plainly scrawled across my face is so obvious that she doesn't have to consult cards or spirits to see it. She reaches across the bed and touches my hand again, covering it entirely this time.
"It's okay. I won't tell anyone," she promises, signing with her other hand. "We can't choose whom we're attracted to or fall in love with, and frankly, I'm flattered."
The dam bursts and those pesky emotions I've kept at bay for what I thought was for the sake of professionalism flood my consciousness. Heat rises in my cheeks when I realize, yeah, Alexei isn't the wicked witch that worships the Devil and sacrifices puppies; she's a cute girl with an enormous heart and some amazing talent.
Alexei adds, "I'm sure God wouldn't hate you for simply being the person he made you to be, would he?"
All the conventional lies and self-hatred start to fall away as I stare into her eyes, and it's not like I'm going to run home to tell my folks, but at least I have some sense of validation. I smile through the tears misting my eyes and inhale sharply.
"I don't think so, no," I agree with her at length.
Realizing that her hand is still upon mine, Alexei quickly withdraws. "I'm sorry," she apologizes with a sheepish grin. "I'm a touchy-feely kind of person by nature."
It's my turn to grin this time and I take her hand in mine this time. I close my fingers around hers to reassure her, "Neither one of use has to apologize for who we are, right?"
Her cheeks are flushed as she looks up at me finally, smiling again.
It's just the beginning, I know, but it'll blossom into something bigger and beautiful someday soon I hope. When it does, I know that Gram will be cheering me on from the sidelines, and our secret won't have to be so secret anymore.
