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ohnofeelings2013-02-28 08:11 pm
xherrdoktor) wrote in ohnofeelings2013-02-28 08:11 pm
Entry tags:
;someone was lying when they said life was easy
You must be part bloodhound, my dear Grace.
Just promise me you’ll back. You have to promise. For our tea party.
It hit her all at once, out of nowhere. She was walking up to the front door of her house when the sudden realization hit her. She didn’t know how to describe the feeling that came over her. Perhaps there truly wasn’t a word for it, that moment when your mind is suddenly flooding with long-forgotten memories that were distinctly her own. The voices in her head kept her frozen on the stone path for minutes. Her schoolbooks slipped out of her hands, haphazardly tumbling to her feet. Paige—no, Grace. Her name was Grace, wasn’t it?—couldn’t bring herself to care about that. There was one person she needed to see, and it was long overdue.
How ironic it was that the one person who mattered to her most had been right under her nose the entire time? She hoped that he remembered, too. Now that she remembered what happened to them, how they’d been separated, she missed her father so much. She couldn’t wait to see him again. She’d just seen him the day before, that’d been as Paige and Jefferson, the high school student who had too much of a green thumb and the hermit that had reluctantly put up with her.
The realization hit her instantly. His name had been Jefferson both here and there. Which meant he remembered. This whole time, he knew exactly who she was and he never said anything at all. That alone made her all the more desperate to see him. She had so much she needed to say to him, more than ever, and she was sure he had to feel the same.
Doing stadiums during gym class finally had its benefit; she had never run so fast and so hard in her life. It was uphill, but that didn’t slow her down at all. She didn’t stop until she reached the could be hotel. She ran up the steps and alternated between knocking on the door and ringing the bell. “Papa? Papa, it’s me. Grace. I remember. I remember everything! Open up.” When there wasn’t an immediate response and she didn’t hear anything inside, she tested the doorknob. It was unlocked, so she pushed the door open and took a tentative step inside.
At first she thought that he might’ve been upstairs doing something and didn’t hear the door ring. Or the banging. Or her calling for him. There could’ve been a number of plausible reasons for there not being a response. Maybe he somehow knew the curse was broken and he had gone to find her too. But after taking a few more steps into the foyer, she caught a glimpse of something that eliminated any possible hopes she had.
It was only fitting that everything was ripped away from her just when she was so close to being reunited with her father.
Although it happened all at once, it might as well have been in slow motion. That moment when she saw his shoes upturned on the floor. When she stepped into the room and found him lying on the floor. When she ran over to him, shaking his shoulders, trying to rouse him. When she had to accept the fact that no amount of sobbing into his shirt, banging on his chest, or kissing his forehead would bring him back. All warmth had left his body and she just had to accept that he was gone.
Grace had no idea how long she had actually been there before she finally called for help. It could’ve been minutes or hours; time felt like it stopped and lost all meaning all the same. She stayed until the ambulance pulled up and he was bagged up, loaded on the gurney and taken away from her for the last time.
Days passed and Grace spent her time in the empty house. She’d grown quite familiar with it from her visits, but now she saw everything in a new light. It had always seemed lonely, much bigger than any single dwelling should be for a single person. A lonely place filled with far too many forgotten objects. But now she knew this was the home that she was supposed to share with him. That room upstairs, down the hall—would that have been her room? What would their lives have been like had the curse broken sooner? Could she have made him happy? Smile? She would never know.
In the corner of a forgotten part of the cemetery, next to an equally forgotten headstone, was now where Grace spent her afternoons. It wasn’t the same as her afternoons helping with his garden or those long ago afternoons in the forest. The most she could do was bring fresh flowers and just talk. She didn’t know if it was actually even possible for him to actually hear her or if she was just spending so much time just talking to herself. Sometimes she couldn’t bring herself to speak at all and just cried. In the end it felt temporarily cathartic.
But did she think she could ever feel normal again? Not sad? Anyone she tried to talk to about it would tell her that it took time and then she would move on. It would stop hurting. But how could that even be possible when she knew he had waited thirty-three years for her to remember and died waiting? She knew this was her fault. She could blame Regina for the curse, blame Emma for taking too long to break it, but she knew she was the one responsible for this. If she could’ve remembered sooner. If she never asked for the stuffed rabbit. If she had never given her father reason to think she needed more than what they had.
All she ever needed was him and that never changed. She still needed her father and now that he was gone forever, she didn’t know what to do anymore. She couldn’t just go back to the time before she remembered, and no amount of apologizing to a slab of stone bearing her father’s name would make it better. Every ’I’m so sorry for failing you, Papa. I’m sorry I was too late’ just made it worse.
After a while Grace stopped being surprised by that. She was learning the hard way that life was never easy.
Just promise me you’ll back. You have to promise. For our tea party.
It hit her all at once, out of nowhere. She was walking up to the front door of her house when the sudden realization hit her. She didn’t know how to describe the feeling that came over her. Perhaps there truly wasn’t a word for it, that moment when your mind is suddenly flooding with long-forgotten memories that were distinctly her own. The voices in her head kept her frozen on the stone path for minutes. Her schoolbooks slipped out of her hands, haphazardly tumbling to her feet. Paige—no, Grace. Her name was Grace, wasn’t it?—couldn’t bring herself to care about that. There was one person she needed to see, and it was long overdue.
How ironic it was that the one person who mattered to her most had been right under her nose the entire time? She hoped that he remembered, too. Now that she remembered what happened to them, how they’d been separated, she missed her father so much. She couldn’t wait to see him again. She’d just seen him the day before, that’d been as Paige and Jefferson, the high school student who had too much of a green thumb and the hermit that had reluctantly put up with her.
The realization hit her instantly. His name had been Jefferson both here and there. Which meant he remembered. This whole time, he knew exactly who she was and he never said anything at all. That alone made her all the more desperate to see him. She had so much she needed to say to him, more than ever, and she was sure he had to feel the same.
Doing stadiums during gym class finally had its benefit; she had never run so fast and so hard in her life. It was uphill, but that didn’t slow her down at all. She didn’t stop until she reached the could be hotel. She ran up the steps and alternated between knocking on the door and ringing the bell. “Papa? Papa, it’s me. Grace. I remember. I remember everything! Open up.” When there wasn’t an immediate response and she didn’t hear anything inside, she tested the doorknob. It was unlocked, so she pushed the door open and took a tentative step inside.
At first she thought that he might’ve been upstairs doing something and didn’t hear the door ring. Or the banging. Or her calling for him. There could’ve been a number of plausible reasons for there not being a response. Maybe he somehow knew the curse was broken and he had gone to find her too. But after taking a few more steps into the foyer, she caught a glimpse of something that eliminated any possible hopes she had.
It was only fitting that everything was ripped away from her just when she was so close to being reunited with her father.
Although it happened all at once, it might as well have been in slow motion. That moment when she saw his shoes upturned on the floor. When she stepped into the room and found him lying on the floor. When she ran over to him, shaking his shoulders, trying to rouse him. When she had to accept the fact that no amount of sobbing into his shirt, banging on his chest, or kissing his forehead would bring him back. All warmth had left his body and she just had to accept that he was gone.
Grace had no idea how long she had actually been there before she finally called for help. It could’ve been minutes or hours; time felt like it stopped and lost all meaning all the same. She stayed until the ambulance pulled up and he was bagged up, loaded on the gurney and taken away from her for the last time.
Days passed and Grace spent her time in the empty house. She’d grown quite familiar with it from her visits, but now she saw everything in a new light. It had always seemed lonely, much bigger than any single dwelling should be for a single person. A lonely place filled with far too many forgotten objects. But now she knew this was the home that she was supposed to share with him. That room upstairs, down the hall—would that have been her room? What would their lives have been like had the curse broken sooner? Could she have made him happy? Smile? She would never know.
In the corner of a forgotten part of the cemetery, next to an equally forgotten headstone, was now where Grace spent her afternoons. It wasn’t the same as her afternoons helping with his garden or those long ago afternoons in the forest. The most she could do was bring fresh flowers and just talk. She didn’t know if it was actually even possible for him to actually hear her or if she was just spending so much time just talking to herself. Sometimes she couldn’t bring herself to speak at all and just cried. In the end it felt temporarily cathartic.
But did she think she could ever feel normal again? Not sad? Anyone she tried to talk to about it would tell her that it took time and then she would move on. It would stop hurting. But how could that even be possible when she knew he had waited thirty-three years for her to remember and died waiting? She knew this was her fault. She could blame Regina for the curse, blame Emma for taking too long to break it, but she knew she was the one responsible for this. If she could’ve remembered sooner. If she never asked for the stuffed rabbit. If she had never given her father reason to think she needed more than what they had.
All she ever needed was him and that never changed. She still needed her father and now that he was gone forever, she didn’t know what to do anymore. She couldn’t just go back to the time before she remembered, and no amount of apologizing to a slab of stone bearing her father’s name would make it better. Every ’I’m so sorry for failing you, Papa. I’m sorry I was too late’ just made it worse.
After a while Grace stopped being surprised by that. She was learning the hard way that life was never easy.