Hope Mikaelson was born the first and only tribrid, her twin sister on the other hand was born with the burden of being human.
Grace Mikaelson spent the first seven years with her birth family being emotionally abused and neglected.
Given up for ad...
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TWENTY-NINE NEIBOLT STREET HAD SEEN BETTER DAYS, PIECES OF THE WALL LAY ROTTING ON THE FLOOR, ONLY VISIBLE THROUGH THE CRACKED WINDOWS. A foul stench hovered over the house. Grace felt her stomach turn as the smell hit her, following Bill closely as they ventured into the house.
The air was tense the floorboards creaking below them as the muscles in her legs tensed; every step was a struggle as she forced herself to move. Grace flinched when a hand latched onto the back of her dress, head turning quickly she deflated seeing it was only Richie, an embarrassed expression on his face. "Sorry." He muttered letting go.
"I can't believe I picked the short straw." Richie mumbled as he looked around the room, "You guys are lucky we aren't measuring dicks." Grace sighed deeply, the house was unsettling and it didn't help she could practically feel the nerves radiating off Ritchie.
"Shut up, Richie." Eddie muttered not making eye contact with him, inhaler held tightly in his hand, jaw wobbling. His eyes darting around nervously. "I can smell it..."
"Don't breathe through your mouth." Richie told him scrunching up his nose, a nauseous expression on his face.
"How come?" Eddie questioned apprehensively turning to look at the other boy.
"Cause then you're eating it." Richie said bluntly. Eddie gagged hand trembling as he took a desperate puff of his inhaler. Grace looked away from them letting out a shudder pressing her lips together tightly. Ritchie ventured into the front room, cobwebs dangled from the roof encasing the wall. He reached out tentatively to a cobweb gaining the attention of the others.
Ritchie held a paper tightly in his hands as Grace walked to his side reading it slowly, feeling powerless as she realised what it was, it was a missing poster. Richie's missing poster.
"Th-this says im missing." Richie told them. He had gone pale. Eyes wide and darting over the paper as if it would change, the paper scrunching between his hands as his grip tightened. Eddie froze in fear a scared inhale echoing in the room. Bill took quick strides towards the two, always the helper.
"Y-y-youre not missing" Bill told him firmly. Grace couldn't watch any longer ripping the paper away from the boy. Richie didn't notice backing away in panic. Eddie edged towards them taking a big puff of his inhaler. He watched the scene silently hands fidgeting in front of him.
"Police department of the city of Derry." Richie screeched fear written all over his face. "That's my shirt! My hair! My face! Thats my age! Thats the date!"
"Rich, it's not real." Grace insisted tearfully. It wasn't right. Richie Tozier wasn't a scared child. He was the boy who made jokes. The boy who faced Henry Bowers with a taunting grin and rude gestures. That boy was no where to be seen. All that was left was a scared child.
"Gracie is right it isn't real." Bill assures grabbing Ritchie by the shoulders.
"It says it right here! it says im missing!" Richie yelled frantically. "Why the fuck does it say I'm missing?!"
