earlymorninstar

[Save Me From The Dark] freedomliveson x earlymorninstar

It seemed like she had stood there for forever, the large door ahead of her nearly mocking her as she shifted hesitantly. Her heels idly scratched at the ground beneath her, perhaps the only sound reaching her ears through the incessant drumming of her heart in her chest. The short amount of time had given her pause – a moment to wonder if this had been either a fantastic idea or a horrible mistake. She had needed the money, Alyssa knew that full well, but was this the best option for her in hopes to pay the bills that her father was accruing on a daily basis? It had been years since she'd gone on an interview, and the thought of having to try to sell herself to a stranger was far less appealing than she would like, but at the end of the day, Alyssa really had no other options. At least, no options that would pay her quick enough to at least get the first of her bills paid.

The opening of the door had caused her to jump in the slightest and she straightened her back as soon as she had seen the male that had greeted her. It was easy enough to deduce that he was also part of the staff that worked there, and she idly wondered just how many others had roamed the large manor; perhaps not enough considering the owner needed a housekeeper.

Pushing her thoughts aside, Alyssa had met his smile with her own regardless of her nerves that continued to buzz throughout her entire body. She held her portfolio to her chest almost as if it had been a safety net, and she had only murmured a soft "Thank you" as she was brought inside.

Immediately her attention turned to the large foyer that she had stepped in, and Alyssa couldn't help but bite her bottom lip in hesitation. If she were to land this, perhaps she would have her work cut out for her. The place was larger than she'd anticipated, and hell – she'd only been in the foyer thus far. She could only imagine what other rooms the house held. Still, Alyssa had followed Nathan as soon as he had led her away, her heels clicking against the floor and echoing throughout the foyer as she quickly trailed behind him before entering the next room.

His question had given her pause, and she was almost embarrassed for not introducing herself as soon as the door was answered. "Alyssa DePiew." She replied all at once, the kind smile still on her lips as she even extended a hand for him to shake. Her other still carefully held her portfolio to her chest. "And – Well," Obviously, she needed a job. She wasn't quite anticipating his question as she searched for an answer that wouldn’t' exactly make her sound desperate. "I needed a bit of a change, I suppose. This job seemed interesting enough, and quite frankly, I could use the work to keep me busy." Which was true – the library not only could pay so much, but there was only so much she could do there as well. This could at least keep her mind off of her father and everything that had been going on as of late – she would welcome the distraction with open arms as long as she could land it, that is…

@freedomliveson

[Save Me From The Dark] freedomliveson x earlymorninstar

No worries! :)

[Save Me From The Dark] freedomliveson x earlymorninstar

You won't cry for my absence, I know.​
You forgot me long ago.​

She was a simple girl in a simple town – or rather, a town that was close to places that were hardly simple. New York City was only a car’s drive away and yet no one ever put a thought towards Mount Vernon – a town so close and yet so far. Perfectly fitting for the girl whose dreams were so close to that. They were always in an arm’s reach and yet they would never get farther than the wall of her home. A shame – she seemed so promising and pretty, didn’t she? She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders: full of ideas and smiles that never seemed to fade regardless of what was going on around her. Oh, if only they knew what lie behind closed doors. But no one really cared in Mount Vernon, did they? It was a quaint little town full of perfect little houses where no one bothered one another – no matter what they may have heard or seen at night; no matter what glimpse of a life behind the door they could have gotten. No; Alyssa was just sweet little Alyssa, taking care of her poor father who never could cope with the death of his wife. She was capable; and she would be okay.

They would never really know about the trouble and chaos that poor Alyssa DePiew dealt with from the moment her mother had been lost.

It was difficult; she was meant to be daddy’s little girl, and perhaps she had become that in the long run. He just didn’t know it yet – or rather, the liquor was enough to fog his vision so that he would never know it. She was torn; struggling to love her father and yet wanting to escape all in the same. Any other person would have taken off running, but she was too good for that, wasn’t she? Alyssa couldn’t abandon her father any more than she could fathom running away even for a moment.

She’d matured far too much, too soon, because of her father.

The man was a mess, left without a wife and blind to the daughter that he still had left. Alcohol became his only companion. He fell and fell, deep into an abyss in which Alyssa could no longer reach him, nor could she even try if she wanted to. He was nothing without his wife and soon began to deteriorate under layers and layers of liquid. Alyssa was left to pick up the pieces and attempt to place them together, but how could you piece together something that did not want to be fixed? Poor Alyssa; Sweet Alyssa, left with the immense debt of her father throughout his substance abuse; card after card applied for and maxed out. Bill after bill, torn up and ignored – cursed at and spit at as if it would send the nagging collectors away. And the house – the house still held an immense amount of debt that needed to be paid, or else they wouldn’t have a place to stay.

But he didn’t care, did he?

It was inevitable that Alyssa had to venture to work every day – perhaps her only real escape without the necessity to run away. It was there where she would bury her head in books in hopes to chase away the worry of her father drowning in his own vomit, or accidentally killing himself from over-consumption. It was only at the end of the day did she feel the familiar pang of worry in her stomach before she’d set foot back in her own home. But he’d always be there- passed out, drunk off his ass, with nothing to say for himself other than a messy house.

Michael DePiew had withered away into a shell of a man and Alyssa was left to carry him along. It was a wonder she had gotten through her own mother’s death by herself, or perhaps she hadn’t even had time to grieve. She already lost one parent and she was thrust into the inevitable concern about losing another in a moment’s time. She already knew she would if he continued to keep up his binge drinking in order to numb the pain.

He became her burden just as much as she became his. As far as he knew, she was not his daughter. She was a nagging bitch who wouldn’t let him grieve over Mary – Oh, Mary… his beautiful wife. Why the fuck did she have to go so soon? Why the hell did that bastard take her?

The smell became horrible in the house; old beer and liquor wouldn’t quite come out of the carpet no matter how much she scrubbed and scrubbed. The cans wouldn’t go away no matter how many times she’d picked them up. The bills continued to pile and pile and every night she would have to make dinner for a father who didn’t want to eat, nor did he want her there.

Poor, sweet Alyssa was becoming a prisoner of her own home.
​
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?​

It wasn't until one night that Alyssa finally snapped.

“GODDAMNIT, LISSA! WHERE DID YOU HIDE MY FUCKING BEER!?”

“I didn’t put it anywhere, dad. You drank it all this morning.”

“Don’t lie to me, you little bitch. Where are the fucking cans?!”

There had been no reaction to his harsh words; almost as if Alyssa had become her own shell of a woman. No; she’d been used to his slander; used to his harsh touch. It was only a matter of time before he snapped again over her cleaning her own home, or trying to cook him food. No matter how much she wanted to, she hadn’t taken his alcohol. He honestly had consumed it all within the morning hours and it seemed, the moment he’d sobered up, was the moment he realized they were gone. She sat at her kitchen table, nibbling at whichever sandwich she could put together as she dryly eyed a stack of bills that she’d been ignoring the week before.

“Go to bed, dad. You’ve had enough tonight. “ Her voice had been so soft; so quiet and gentle and yet it seemed as if she hadn’t cared in the least. She was going through the motions… Just like she had every other night prior. And yet, no amount of concentration could have kept her eyes on her table as she felt herself lifted and felt the sudden jolt against her shoulder as she came in contact with the wall next to her. The chair had fallen out beneath her somewhere and the table had shifted with an unruly sound against her hardwood floors. Her breath had lifted from her lungs for a temporary moment and all she’d seen was a white flash as her vision slowly returned in her painful shock.

“Don’t give me that shit! Tell me where the fuck they are!” He loomed over her in that moment, leaving her to look up at him with a new resolve through hazy vision as her breath began to fill her lungs again.

“What the hell? Touch me again, dad, and I’m calling the cops! They’ll take you away this time, I promise you!”

“Go ahead, ya little shit. They won’t believe your lying ass anyway.”

On the contrary, his cool and careless words couldn’t be farther from the truth. The police had been quite familiar with Alyssa and her situation with her father. No matter how many times she hadn’t pressed charges, they insisted for her own safety. Without a doubt, they were drooling to get their hands on him. And she’d been right. The moment she called, they’d been there and they were in the least bit gentle, ripping him out of that house.

And once more, she was left to clean up the pieces, aching in his wake.
​
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t someone missing me…​

Within the passing days, Alyssa would come to realize that her father had been guilty of substance abuse on top of his alcoholism. He’d been sentenced to a few weeks in prison and on top of that, would be sent off to rehabilitation. It would only give Alyssa the breather she needed, and the time to actually focus on the debt and mess she was left with.

It wouldn’t be long before she found a job; an odd one at that. Something caught her off guard with the way she wasn’t asked for a resume, nor was she subjected to a background check. It was almost as if they were desperate for help. An in-home maid service. Really, how horrible could that be? But with how quick they were to take her in to at least interview her, Alyssa had an awful feeling that it could very well be one of the worst jobs she’d applied for. Either way, they would pay her far more than anything else that was local would offer, so Alyssa hardly had a choice.

It was Monday morning when she found herself in front of the large oak doors that seemed to dwarf her in a mere second. She'd clutched a portfolio folder to her chest as she faltered for a moment. One moment - she needed an extra moment to make sure she looked professional enough. Her gaze fell to her black pencil skirt that had been ironed neatly and she made sure her white blouse had been buttoned correctly and tucked in her skirt without a wrinkle. Her heart was pounding in her head and yet it felt like it had fallen somewhere on the ground by her feet.

Alright, Alyssa….

One, two, three…

And she knocked.
​
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone...

Alyssa Picture

[Save Me From The Dark] freedomliveson x earlymorninstar

Edit: somehow my intro ended up here. D: Moved it.

[Lather the blood on your hands] 18+ UPDATED [Ignore Post Count]

Bump! :)

[Lather the blood on your hands] 18+ UPDATED [Ignore Post Count]

Bump.

[Beneath a moonless sky] 18+ [Arista x Earlymorninstar]

She still wondered if any of this was all worth it. Why the hell would she continue to put herself through all of this? Was it mere instinct? Was it the deep need to keep her sire alive, despite all of the hell that he’d continued to put her through? It seemed impossible to think that Clara would continue with any of this, and yet there she was, still lying there in hopes that either her blood, Ryanair’s, or even both of them would help save Kieran… She almost felt like a fool- especially now that all of this had caused her to remember every single fucking detail of when he had turned her. Things that she’d forgotten either with time or from lying to herself had all found their way back to her, and all she really wanted to do was throw in the towel.

That familiar empty ache sat deep within her, and Clara either wanted to drown herself in drink, or try to force it all away by slipping to sleep. Either way, her dreams and nightmares would be there to haunt her even further.

Wolff’s words had brought her from her thoughts, thankfully, but she was confused when Ryanair had been directed to stand. He was supposed to be in this with her, so to see them suddenly unplug him and have him sit, she’d come to the realization that only her blood had been compatible…

Well, wasn’t that fucking laughable?

The frown remained on her lips, especially when her bed had been pushed closer to Kieran’s. She’d turned her head so that she didn’t have to look at him, and her eyes shut once more. She was exhausted, that horrible empty feeling mixed with that everlasting anger had been laced with a worry that she still couldn’t shake -- despite all of it.

Even still - Clara remained still, allowing everyone to do as they wished so that Kieran could be saved. As long as sleep would take her - she’d already felt it tugging at her quick enough, then maybe all of this would go by quicker…

@Arista

[Beneath a moonless sky] 18+ [Arista x Earlymorninstar]

Fuck. All of the years she’d tried to forget; she’d been successful in forgetting certain things - numbing that horrible, hollow feeling that somehow clung to what felt like her very soul throughout the years. And yet, as Clara lie there, that ache and that numbness laced with her fear, pain, and absolute betrayal sprung forward in full force. She’d just barely heard Ryanair’s words, and the frown fell upon her lips just as quickly. It was easy to run - fuck it would be so easy to rip that needle out of her arm and run far away from it all - let Kieran die if it really was meant to be. Hell, she had wanted that from the start, hadn’t she?

But Clara knew better than that. She hadn’t exactly had an easy life, and she hadn’t done anything easy thus far…

She felt Ryanair’s touch, and her hand simply stayed within his as she heard him. Regardless of his words, she hadn’t relaxed - she couldn’t relax, the sounds of the ocean, the feel of sand digging into her back - his scent coupled with the salt on the air and that awful empty ache when it was all gone, laced with a god awful pain that consumed her entire body. It brought her immediately back and she wanted it to all go away. She didn’t want to feel it again… she’d done so well to try and forget…

It wasn’t fair- had this had happened a month or so before, Clara wouldn’t have thought twice. She would have simply let him die there and she would have walked away without a thought. Her pain would eventually dissipate, and she would move on. Now… Now things had been different. Not only had things changed, but she also couldn’t leave Ryanair… If she had a chance to fix this, at least for him, she would remain… She would push her way through it and by god if he didn’t live… She didn’t quite know what she would feel. But if he did make it -- shit, he better realize she’s saved him far too many times than he deserved.

God damnit… At least for now she would stay.

@Arista

[Beneath a moonless sky] 18+ [Arista x Earlymorninstar]

Clara didn't know what to do; what to think—her body was stiff as she stood there, the sound of her own pounding heart suddenly in her ears. It was as if, now that everything was presented before her, the thought of him dying was far from as wonderful as she thought it would be. It felt as if someone had a grip on her lungs and for that moment she couldn't breathe even if she tried. She couldn't feel anything, even as she was moved and sat back down near Ryanair. Everyone's words had sounded as if they were far away, and all she could focus on was how lifeless he already looked as they shifted and prodded at him.

Shit. The sudden need to run, to get as far away from any of this as she could was so terribly strong. She wanted to pull at the needle that had suddenly been in her arm – she wanted to be out of that room, out of that mansion, and out of each of their lives. She never asked for any of this – he was the one that did this to her, and now, now he was the one who had caused her such panic. Every bit of anxiety throughout the years; the worthlessness, the sense that she really was something so easily tossed aside had all come flooding forward in her panic and all she wanted to do was hide from it… She needed a drink, she needed to run – she needed to be far away where she couldn't feel it anymore.

Clara had done her best throughout the years to try to forget – but no matter how much she drank or indulged in others, the nightmares always found her. He was always there, one way or another, no matter how those bits and pieces, the facts and truths began to dull with time. She didn't want to remember.

She didn't want to remember how she'd left that night; how she'd run away from home in hopes of starting a new life, somewhere – hell, anywhere where the rules of society did not apply to her. She didn't want to remember how he'd been there- promises drifting on the salty air of the night, carried away by the wind of the ocean. She didn't want to remember how he made her feel like she really did matter… She didn't want to remember his touch; the fire within her and the yearning for something new…

And she didn't want to remember how he had taken it all away just as quickly… The horrible pain of everything within her twisting and clenching; the feel of everything being ripped away and the blinding heat and pain that followed…

She was still when they laid her there, ignorant to the needle that easily drew her own blood from her. She'd only kept her eyes shut tight, willing away the tears that she hardly noticed. She never wanted any of this…

@Arista

[Beneath a moonless sky] 18+ [Arista x Earlymorninstar]

Clara should have known it would have come to an end; she should have known that a simple moment of being carefree just simply wasn't allowed. She couldn't remember a moment after that one night so many centuries back that she'd actually felt alive. Her attention had only been focused on Ryanair, refusing to think of the ceremony that everyone else had decided to attend; refusing to drift even for a moment to all of the negativity that surrounded not only her, but the entire household. She would not think of the looming darkness that was shrouded over them, poised for another blow when they weren't ready for it – or even the anger that she continued to feel over her entire situation – regardless of apologies and perhaps possibly healing wounds.

She had been ready to launch another round towards Ryanair, but the sudden appearance of Vox had given her pause. She'd seen the look on Ryanair's face, she'd felt the sudden blanket of dread wrap around her without fully understanding what it was about. Something felt – off, and she couldn't place her finger on it. However, Ryanair's reaction was all she really needed to confirm her thoughts. His bond with Kieran had been far stronger than hers – probably than hers would ever be.

Something was wrong…

It was a split second later that they were no longer surrounded by snow; no longer blissfully unaware of everything else around them – thrust into the bright light of the room. The smell of copper had been thick on the air and for a quick moment, Clara had been disoriented, her gaze flicking around the room only to pause on Christian who had still lingered in the doorway before her attention had suddenly turned to the problem at hand.

Something within her stomach had twisted at the sight of it – seeing both Lye and Wolff trying to stitch up the wounds that she'd pulled those silver rods from days before. She thought they had healed - thought everything was fine… Hell, he was up that morning… They had an entire conversation the night before!

Clara was trying to grasp the reality of what was happening around her and she swallowed the small lump in her throat, suddenly feeling a sense of urgency that hadn't been there before. "…What the hell happened?" But even as she spoke, her voice didn't even sound as if it had come from her. Her body was rigid and she hadn't dared to move, her gaze still upon the man that she'd been so certain she hated and had sworn up and down that she wanted dead– now suddenly she was almost desperate to save him yet again.

@Arista