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shifted_prompts2009-06-24 07:17 pm
grasswavemaster.livejournal.com) wrote in shifted_prompts2009-06-24 07:17 pm
Entry tags:
Something for Nothing
Title: Something for Nothing
Author: Kaji (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
atrypical)
Character/Fandom: d1!Tsukasa/.hack//SIGN
Prompt: 07. Disposable
Word Count: 676
Summary: Waking up late at night brings back unpleasant memories for An.
Author Notes/Warnings: Angst, violence... probably rated about PG-13.
An sat bolt upright in bed, startling herself awake from another twisted dream - or was it a nightmare? She could barely tell anymore. Her pajamas were soaked in sweat, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Thankfully Sakuma-san had arranged for her to have a separate room, so there was no roommate to disturb. She doubted she would get along with a roommate anyway. She was damaged goods. Broken. Disturbed. She heard what the other students whispered amongst themselves.
They didn't know all of what had happened, only that she had been in a coma for a very long time. She doubted they'd ask, anyway. That just wasn't done, unless you were either unforgivably rude or willing to associate yourself with someone unsavory.
She glanced at the clock. It was a little past three in the morning. She could go on the Astral Plane, but it would be the same time when she returned. But she wasn't sure if she could go back to sleep at this point.
This time of the night was always the most difficult. She remembered being woken up by her father coming in after a drinking session with his business partners, turning on the lights and leaning over her with stinking breath, staring for a full minute or longer before shouting in her face to get up, to do something useful, that she cost him way too much money, that she was a horrible child and she was lucky he hadn't gotten rid of her years before. That there were many other children who would prefer to have him as a father who could do a much better job than she could.
That she was disposable, unwanted, unneeded, and it was only the goodness of his heart that kept her with a roof over her head, because he knew she didn't have any friends or relatives that would take her in. That she should have been a boy because then she would at least be good for something besides housework, and that her art skills didn't count because she was still horrible at it and would never earn enough to support herself, much less raise a family.
Sometimes if she was lucky, he would stumble around before passing out on the floor or on the couch, or rarely on his bed. If she wasn't, he would punctuate his shouting rants with slaps or punches, and though he wasn't particularly strong, he was a lot stronger than she was. She could remember more than one instance in where she was yanked by her collar from her bed and thrown down to the floor, being told to wash the apartment floors before the sun rose. Sometimes if she didn't move fast enough, he would kick her, still wearing his hard business shoes, and she would have to bite her lip to stop from crying out, because if she didn't he would kick her again.
She still had bruises on her body. How many years had it been with just her and her father living in that place? Her mother's funeral and treatment had cost a lot of money, and they had moved shortly after it was paid off because the rent was too much. She guessed six years at least, maybe more. Too long.
At least she was here. At least she was away from her father now. An reached over for her phone, and then shook her head. No... even though both of them said that she could call them at any time, Sakuma-san and Mariko both needed their rest. So did she, but she wasn't likely to get it at any point in the near future. She could try finding something online to do, but she couldn't think of anything that would help right now. Her eyes fell on the backpack with the Air Treks that Ikki had given her, and then her sketchpad. Getting a sudden idea, she pulled off her covers, going over to her desk and sitting down, pulling out her pencils and starting to draw.
She couldn't just take something for nothing, after all.
Author: Kaji (
atrypical)Character/Fandom: d1!Tsukasa/.hack//SIGN
Prompt: 07. Disposable
Word Count: 676
Summary: Waking up late at night brings back unpleasant memories for An.
Author Notes/Warnings: Angst, violence... probably rated about PG-13.
An sat bolt upright in bed, startling herself awake from another twisted dream - or was it a nightmare? She could barely tell anymore. Her pajamas were soaked in sweat, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Thankfully Sakuma-san had arranged for her to have a separate room, so there was no roommate to disturb. She doubted she would get along with a roommate anyway. She was damaged goods. Broken. Disturbed. She heard what the other students whispered amongst themselves.
They didn't know all of what had happened, only that she had been in a coma for a very long time. She doubted they'd ask, anyway. That just wasn't done, unless you were either unforgivably rude or willing to associate yourself with someone unsavory.
She glanced at the clock. It was a little past three in the morning. She could go on the Astral Plane, but it would be the same time when she returned. But she wasn't sure if she could go back to sleep at this point.
This time of the night was always the most difficult. She remembered being woken up by her father coming in after a drinking session with his business partners, turning on the lights and leaning over her with stinking breath, staring for a full minute or longer before shouting in her face to get up, to do something useful, that she cost him way too much money, that she was a horrible child and she was lucky he hadn't gotten rid of her years before. That there were many other children who would prefer to have him as a father who could do a much better job than she could.
That she was disposable, unwanted, unneeded, and it was only the goodness of his heart that kept her with a roof over her head, because he knew she didn't have any friends or relatives that would take her in. That she should have been a boy because then she would at least be good for something besides housework, and that her art skills didn't count because she was still horrible at it and would never earn enough to support herself, much less raise a family.
Sometimes if she was lucky, he would stumble around before passing out on the floor or on the couch, or rarely on his bed. If she wasn't, he would punctuate his shouting rants with slaps or punches, and though he wasn't particularly strong, he was a lot stronger than she was. She could remember more than one instance in where she was yanked by her collar from her bed and thrown down to the floor, being told to wash the apartment floors before the sun rose. Sometimes if she didn't move fast enough, he would kick her, still wearing his hard business shoes, and she would have to bite her lip to stop from crying out, because if she didn't he would kick her again.
She still had bruises on her body. How many years had it been with just her and her father living in that place? Her mother's funeral and treatment had cost a lot of money, and they had moved shortly after it was paid off because the rent was too much. She guessed six years at least, maybe more. Too long.
At least she was here. At least she was away from her father now. An reached over for her phone, and then shook her head. No... even though both of them said that she could call them at any time, Sakuma-san and Mariko both needed their rest. So did she, but she wasn't likely to get it at any point in the near future. She could try finding something online to do, but she couldn't think of anything that would help right now. Her eyes fell on the backpack with the Air Treks that Ikki had given her, and then her sketchpad. Getting a sudden idea, she pulled off her covers, going over to her desk and sitting down, pulling out her pencils and starting to draw.
She couldn't just take something for nothing, after all.