arachnophobia || feitan portor

catching up with the deceased - 9

✞━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✞

Yorknew City. You'd always kind of hated the city. It was a strange kind of beautiful. The kind of beautiful that lurks in the darkness on the verge of being absolutely addicting, like nicotine.

The city was intoxicating with its large billboards, flashing lights, and free samples. Who would ever want to leave a place like Yorknew?

Your father had. Early on, when he'd met your mother, your father was living in the city. Working a small job at the time, he met your mother. A beautiful woman with a witty sense of humor who never seemed like the type to let anyone get her down.

Your mother was an amazing woman. And for the longest time, you wanted to be just like her when you grew up.

When your father found out your mother was pregnant, it was stressful. He was unsure if he could be the kind of guy that she needed to help her. So he made himself the man she needed.

He was strong, determined, and willing to lay down his life to protect you and your mother.

During the pregnancy, your father worked multiple jobs while also applying for a job that would be stable to support his entire family. And after five months of perseverance, he succeeded.

He worked for years at his new job, an accountant that got commissions from the clients he worked with. He made good money, and after a little while, you and your family were set.

You were eight years old when your father first mentioned leaving Yorknew. So you and your family moved. To the small and quaint town of Lyda.

It was quiet, much quieter than the bustling city, but it was home. Your father barely worked, having saved up more than enough money to keep the family settled for years. He picked up a small job just to stay entertained during the day while your mother schooled you.

It was during this time when your uncle had been introduced. Your father's brother was an interesting man. Having not really been told about him growing up, he showed up frequently in your later years up until the absence of your mother and the death of your father.

Your mother became distant when you turned eleven. She seemed to space out. The fire that once roared inside her had dwindled down and settled as a smoking pile of embers.

She picked up a hobby of painting, but all of her paintings seemed unsettling. There was a dark figure that shadowed over the seemingly happy vibe of each picture.

The winter of your thirteenth year, your mother had left. It took a hefty toll on your father, but he wished her well with whatever it was she was battling and reassured that she'd always have a place back home whenever she needed it.

You were sad to see your mother go. She had raised you, and you hoped that maybe she was just going on a vacation. You waited for her to return, but what started out as a simple weekend getaway turned into weeks, which turned into months. Which turned into a year.

And you began to fear that your mother was never going to come back. Until the fall of your fourteenth year, two weeks before your father's death.

You saw a woman in the grocery store. She looked out of place, almost like a ghost, she was see-through, but something about her felt familiar. Like the scent of home after being away for so long. She felt like home.

It wasn't until your later years, when you discovered your nen that it was in fact your mother, and she had died. You'd hoped she'd gone in peace. Maybe her ghost was some kind of warning.

Two weeks later, your father was murdered before you. It had ruined you for weeks, and you felt cold and empty inside. With barely feeling anything to feeling overwhelmed and like every emotion, especially hurt, anger, and desperation, were spilling out of your already overfilled body, you were waging a war inside yourself.