! TW: suicide, abuse, neglect, child abandonment, domestic violence, dead body !
[23 years ago]
Primose played happily on the stained pink carpet, pretending the asbestos stains were mud puddles for her dolls. She could smell the smoke of her mother's cigarette as her crossed leg bounced. She rocked back in forth, each movement making a creaky noise that comforted Primrose.
She made the sounds of a car engine with her teeth, running the Hot Wheel through the 'mud puddles'. She created a fake car crash, and that's when her mother snapped. "Dammit, Primrose, would you be quiet?" Her voice was like the crackle of firewood.
Primrose paused her noises, putting her car down and sitting back. She looked at the TV, the static being all she could hear.
On the TV, a woman was laughing with her friend. Her hair was big and beautiful.
The one-year-old sat on the brown armchair that smelled of mildew, leaning her head on the armrest. "TV, mommy?" Her speech was slurred, still trying to learn how to speak properly.
Her mother didn't answer. She only stood up, laughing at the landline phone as the cord coiled around her finger. Primrose watched her every movement. The smile on her face, the dark red lipstick, the dirty string of pearls around her neck, her chipped nail polish.
"Pretty mommy." She spoke again, her voice like a happy babble. Again, her mother ignored her as she continued talking on the phone.
She was surrounded by laughter, and though she knew laughter meant joy, she couldn't feel any joy. All the laughter was a careful design. The woman on TV, her mother, all of it.
But even the carefully designed laughter came to an abrupt end whenever the screen door opened and closed. "Tawny, you piece of shit!" Her father shouted, dropping his messenger bag by the messy pile of shoes.
Her mother paused, her smile dropping into parted red lips. At that angle, Primrose could see the cracks on her chapped lips.
"How long have you been fucking him for!?" Her father's voice began to rise, which meant it was time for Primrose to find a way out. She got off of the moldy armchair and hurried off to her room. She closed herself inside, picking up the little green monster plush.
She held it to her chest, trying not to flinch every time she heard something shatter. Her breaths became ragged as she held back her tears. She could faintly hear the argument play out, even if she covered her ears.
"That little bitch isn't even mine, is she!?"
"Please, Harvey, calm down!"
She tried to steady her breathing, not wanting to sound too loud. But she went cold with fear when she heard heavy footsteps start down the hallway. Footsteps that she knew belonged to her father.
She knew from the heaviness and pattern of each step.
She bolted under her bed, holding the little green plushie to her stomach. The light under the door that peeked into her room was suddenly shadowed with two shoes. Father's shoes.
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Making her Joyful Again || RF Julie x FEM reader || L1TTL3_R0TT3N
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