I worked really hard on that and you’re just going to throw it away?

Timeline/World: Alternate Earth – Birds of a Feather
Characters: Sebastian Quinn-Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 15
Final Word Count: 617 words

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The item in his hand was small and slightly bumpy but he recalled its origins quickly. He didn’t know why it was still in his things, why he kept on hanging onto it at all. It held nothing but bad memories. Perhaps because it was a sign that he’d never given up, that might just have been it. He didn’t know and looking at the item now, he felt raw, painful emotions try to swell in him. Did it make him a monster that he didn’t miss her at all? He knew most of his siblings didn’t, so maybe that made him as normal as them. He just didn’t know.

The object, a small, clay animal—he couldn’t really tell what it had been meant to be, he’d been so young when he’d worked on that—fit in the palm of his hand, he likely could have fit two more comfortably but he could remember how it had filled in his palm when he’d held it out for his mother to inspect, his eyes wide and hopeful.

She’d been in a mood for a few weeks at that point, likely because Sorren’s moods had been seriously sour and only Shai could calm him down. He’d thought that just maybe giving her this gift would cheer her up a little; it had seemed like a good idea at the same. Then again, he should have been able to see the signs but he’d still held hope that things could get fixed, somehow. He could see the way she looked at him, not even doing much of an effort to hide her disdain for his weaknesses. The way she looked at Santos was worse, however, so he ignored and tried, again and again, to get into her good graces. She’d forced him to go to the speech therapy class and he’d gone so he could enunciate his every word. Most had a hard time telling he was deaf, he’d learned so well.

So he’d asked Scott if they could go and get some air-drying clay, he’d wanted to make something for Saoirse—she hated being called ‘mama’ or even ‘mom’—and they’d gone. He’d worked for hours on the little animal, starting over again a few times because he didn’t like the result but when he’d been pleased with how it had looked, he’d set it out to dry. Even Silvius had told him it had looked like an adorable… what had he called it then, a seal? Looking the piece over, Sebastian could imagine that it had been meant to be a baby seal, yes.

When it had been dried and solid, he’d found his mother, had offered her the trinket, she’d looked at it for a second, had given him a disgusted look and had thrown the item off to the side. It had bounced harmlessly off the plush carpet in her little powder room and he’d gone to gather it back, keeping his tears to himself because tears were a sign of weakness, according to her. He’d cuddled the small item to his chest and he’d walked back out of that room with his head held up high, only breaking down and crying once he’d been in his room.

Sati had been the one to hold him and cuddle him until he’d calmed down that day and he hadn’t known what had happened to the item up until that point. Looking at it now, Sebastian allowed his lips to curl into a small, bitter smile but he set the tiny baby seal on his desk. It would be a proof of his perseverance. He refused to give up on all that mattered most to him.

Was it always just the two of you? Did I ever have a chance to fit in?

Timeline/World: Main Profile
Characters: Hebony Calae
Race: Halfling – Angel / Demon
Age: 25, physically about 20
Final Word Count: 599 words

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I don’t know why I even asked myself that question. I hadn’t seen the signs at first; I’d been too busy trying to fit in. That one girl who’d just left her parents’ house because she needed to get away, still a little too young to be on her own, a little too naive but that was life, wasn’t it? I wish I’d seen the signs before I spent months just trying to get their every little whim catered to it.

It was after a particularly gruelling day of playing please-the-pair that I caved in, I cried, oh I cried long and hard and I wanted it all to be over. I wanted to go back home to parents who were too busy for me and I wanted to be coddled the way I’d been while I’d been young, before I’d had my ‘phase’ and wanted nothing to do with them. They pulled away because I pulled away.

When I’d calmed down enough, I went to find my not-quite housemates, my not-quite-friends, they felt more like my tormentors than anything else. I’d been doing back-breaking work for them since they’d taken me in, telling me it was my initiation, telling me that this was how I’d get my ‘wings’ and stay with them. I’d be one of the team; I’d be welcomed and loved and get all I’d ever been needing in my life up until that point.

I confronted them, what else could I do? I squared my shoulders, demanded to know if this was all a joke to them and in the end, it turned out it was. All these dreams I’d had, all these promises they’d made that I’d be one of them, that it’d be all three of us together doing everything, it was all a big load of horse crap and I’d been a pawn to do their dirty little jobs since they’d taken me in. I left what else could I do?

I pondered going back home but what good would that do me? I knew my parents wouldn’t welcome me back, I’d destroyed that particular bridge and I knew I’d have to deal with it at some point. I wasn’t ready. I felt raw and broken.

Walking is the only thing that came to mind and I walked. I’m not sure how long or how far I walked but I walked. What else could I do? I walked until my feet were too sore to keep on walking and I plopped down at the first park I did find. I stayed there for a couple of days, eating through what little rations I’d kept on my person when I’d left.

It’s hard to believe it happened almost twelve years ago. I was a young rebel, I wanted away from everything I’d ever known and after spending a week or so in this park, I told myself I’d never come back but here I am now, at the very same bench I plopped down all those years ago but my life is better now, I have a roof over my head, I have companionship but not in the form of a two-legged companion, I have several cats, they’re enough for me and they’re affectionate when they want to be.

I’ve come a long way; I think I’m just walking this road on my way back home to my parents, to see if we can talk, if we can rekindle maybe a little. I’m not really holding my breath but that’s all right, I’m willing to try.