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nextgenerationmarvel2012-11-29 09:55 pm
seismic_shockwave) wrote in nextgenerationmarvel2012-11-29 09:55 pm
Some Days Are Harder Than Others (Brianna)
Kayla wasn't known for being sad or depressed.
On the contrary, she spent most of a given day with a big grin on her face and an air of energetic exuberance. Whether she was inimitably trying to sing some of her musical favorites or enthusiastically attacking her training in the Danger Room, or cooking for her friends (it was easy to fall into that role, as she actually enjoyed it ...) , she usually seemed happy, well-adjusted and carefree. But over the last few days, that'd faded a little and she'd become more and more quiet. At first, she'd managed to cover up by pleading a cold, but it was pretty clear by yesterday that something was bothering her.
She'd kept an online subscription to the Winnipeg Free Press, so she could keep track of things that had happened back home, partly just out of interest, but in a desire, a hope, to keep track of her family somehow. The people she couldn't help but love. It'd been through the paper that she'd heard that her brother had died. No one in her family would bother telling her, because as far as they were concerned, she was dead, singled out for damnation, a demon in human form. An affliction which they had nursed in their family for far too many years. It was hard, hard as Hell to face that, but she'd found a precarious sort of peace here. And friends, and maybe even a purpose. She'd accepted the likelihood that she'd never speak to any of them ever again.
But hearing that Michael had died, she'd tried to contact them. She had to try. She was prepared to be yelled at, to be hung up on angrily, but the click had come gently, coldly, instantaneously. It would have seemed more like Kayla to rage, yell, scream, smash things. But instead she simply put the phone down, sat on the bed, put her head in her hands and started to quietly weep.
On the contrary, she spent most of a given day with a big grin on her face and an air of energetic exuberance. Whether she was inimitably trying to sing some of her musical favorites or enthusiastically attacking her training in the Danger Room, or cooking for her friends (it was easy to fall into that role, as she actually enjoyed it ...) , she usually seemed happy, well-adjusted and carefree. But over the last few days, that'd faded a little and she'd become more and more quiet. At first, she'd managed to cover up by pleading a cold, but it was pretty clear by yesterday that something was bothering her.
She'd kept an online subscription to the Winnipeg Free Press, so she could keep track of things that had happened back home, partly just out of interest, but in a desire, a hope, to keep track of her family somehow. The people she couldn't help but love. It'd been through the paper that she'd heard that her brother had died. No one in her family would bother telling her, because as far as they were concerned, she was dead, singled out for damnation, a demon in human form. An affliction which they had nursed in their family for far too many years. It was hard, hard as Hell to face that, but she'd found a precarious sort of peace here. And friends, and maybe even a purpose. She'd accepted the likelihood that she'd never speak to any of them ever again.
But hearing that Michael had died, she'd tried to contact them. She had to try. She was prepared to be yelled at, to be hung up on angrily, but the click had come gently, coldly, instantaneously. It would have seemed more like Kayla to rage, yell, scream, smash things. But instead she simply put the phone down, sat on the bed, put her head in her hands and started to quietly weep.
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"Going won't be ... good. What am I gonna do, beat up the people that will try to take me out of there? My brother deserves peace at least. I'll try and get something sent. Maybe I can get someone I know to put some flowers on the grave at least." Kayla took a deep sigh. "Maybe sometime, I can save up some money and go back home so I can see him myself."
Kayla was never a large person in the slightest, but right now she just seemed deflated and emotionally exhausted.
"And I feel like I'm being selfish, because I can't keep thinking about how I'll never get to talk to him again. He's dead, and it's like ... I'll never know if he still loved me or if he thinks I'm some sort of demon incarnate too.
And I'm sorry to dump this on you."
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"It's not selfish to want to see or hear from him. It's /human/ and no matter how many racists try to tell us that mutants aren't human, we all know the truth." she said gently, squeezing Kayla's hands. "And I bet he loved his sister for who she is, not what she could do."
When she mentioned wanting to go home, Brianna had an idea.
"Why not do both? Get something for him and take it to him so that you can say your farewells?" Brianna suggested.
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Kayla wished she could be so sure that he still loved her. She'd never know for sure now, though. But at least, she could let go of any anger she had towards him.
She nodded. "I'd like that. I need a chance to say goodbye to him, somehow."
She hugged Brianna, careful not to squeeze too hard and do something ridiculous and awful like crack her friend's ribs. "Thank you again. It's good to have friends like you here." She'd been so terribly lonely in the city before.
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Brianna, for her part, hugged Kayla fiercely. She couldn't hurt her friend and hugging people was good. She wished she could help more with Kayla's pain, but sending her home would have to be enough.
"How soon could you be ready? If you were to go home, I mean?"
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"... and sometime when things are better, I want to drag some friends to Winnipeg for a fun trip." She sighed and managed a wan smile. "Someday."
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"And you won't have to drag me to Winnipeg. It sounds like fun already." she smiled.