lotte karsten {christine daaé} (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} still_lotte) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} bellumlogs, |
Frowning, Lotte looked towards him. The face seemed blurry but there was no doubt in her mind that the man was her father. Beyond him she could their old truck and if she craned her head up past him, the azure sky was without a cloud. That part was wrong, along with him being there and in the back of her mind, she knew it couldn’t be real.
Despite that obvious fact, she threw her arms around him. She wanted to tell him that she’d missed him, terribly and that things were confusing lately. There was no chance to as he slowly peeled her arms from around him, a smile visible through the blur that was his features. (She didn’t understand why it was so difficult, it wasn’t like she’d forgotten what he looked like. Hadn’t she?) He reminded her to be a good girl and that he’d be back in a few hours.
She slowly shook her head. No matter what he was thinking he couldn’t go – he couldn’t leave her again, not after he seemed to just come back. He gave her a little nudge under the chin, telling her to sing while she waited – that way he could hear her as he drove off. It seemed like an odd request for only a moment; they had always sung together, constantly. Even the part of her mind that realized this had to be a dream reasoned that voices couldn’t bother her while like this.
She set her chin as he had guided, watching her father leave her and hop into the truck. He honked the horn and she began to sing the chorus. There wasn’t any reason to doubt herself and she sang to plead. Normally she and her father sang in an upbeat, folk-style round robin, but she sang in a slow, more morose tone as the truck pulled away.
It had driven only twenty feet before she took off after it, gathering the skirt of her nightgown in order to run faster. Though finding it harder to breathe, Lotte still sang until the dust kicked up by the truck’s wheels was too much. It stung at her eyes and made her cough, but she kept running despite what he’d instructed her to do. She wanted to say good-bye, she wanted to be taken along, she didn’t want to be alone.
It wasn’t until she couldn’t see due to her tears and couldn’t run due to her feet stinging, that she stopped. She bent forwards, hands resting on her knees as she tried to calm down and stop crying. Eyes squeezed shut and sniffling, she didn’t notice the new music until her eyes opened and she was no longer in that cornfield.
She blinked, eyes rising to look over the red sky and down to the shattered glass at her feet. Mini-reflections of herself could be seen, red-faced and teary. The back of her hand rubbed at her eyes, looking to the piano player – refusing to look at the figures in the trees. Her body began to shake, though if it was from the crying, the rush from running, or fear Lotte didn’t know. Her eyes shut one more time as she focused on the music; Mozart, who she considered reliable. (Versus what?) Her lips pressed together and she shifted on her feet; they stung from the shards on the ground.
It was reason enough to move forward, as well as the dim knowledge that if she ran it would do little good. She kept walking, the stinging becoming more natural with each step. His humming was accompanied by her own as she got closer, until she stopped walking and humming altogether at three feet from behind him. She didn’t rise on her toes to look over his left shoulder; it didn’t matter what he was playing, simply the fact that he was.