Her mother was a pro hero, Forecast. Everybody adored her, they found Forecast very charming and amazing. But when you had the same quirk as her, they only would know you as Forecast's daughter.
She sat there staring out the window. She had finished all her chores, taken out the two braids in her H/C H/L hair and done everything she needed to, she sat there with her legs to her chest.
She did everything and she was always praised, but why did she always feel so empty? She was a bragging right to her mother's friends. Yet why was she always there, only in the corner?
Why was she always the idiot in the corner? Why wasn't she in the spotlight? These were questions she'd ask herself.
She would work twice as hard as others, yet she wasn't at the top? She thought she deserved to be at the top. She worked hard enough.
She couldn't scream and yell when her mother shouted at her, but her brother could. She knew everything about her mother, yet she was always second to her brother.
She made her mother a birthday cake once but it was thrown into the rubbish for not meeting her standards.
Fireworks went off. She watched them with Fireworks by Mitski playing.
Tears ran down her face. She would always watch the fireworks with her mother. But now it would be her brother.
But she couldn't find it in her to stop caring, but she knew she would have to eventually. She was an asset to her mother, not a child, an asset. Her mother had to raise her, not love her.
She was a bragging right, nothing more then that to her mother.
She lived up on the house on Poppy Hill. Everyone wanted to live there, for the house was beautiful. But it was a house to her, not a home.
Her room was clustered with books and more. Her bed was comfortable enough. One thing she always did before she went to school, was look at the boats on the horizon.
She believed he would return. Return to be her father.
Her mother had told her to always keep hope up, for he might return. And she believed that. She held onto it.
She knew deep down that he wouldn't return, ever.
His notebook and his belongings had been left to her. She was immensely thankful for it.
That she had some memory of him to latch onto.
