Emilia Kavanagh-Anders (becauseimwrong) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-02-21 21:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | #flashback, #solo, emilia |
hey dad look at me
Who: Emilia and Neil (NPC)
Where: Kavanagh Household
When: 1983
”Where did I leave my notes for Sunday’s sermon…”
Emilia’s head jerked up and she cocked it towards her father, the coloring she had been working on forgotten as she tried to focus on what she had just heard. She had been given special permission to color in her father’s study if she was very, very quiet and she had been keeping to her part of the promise. But now the promise was forgotten because she knew the answer to what he was wondering! The young girl had seen him flipping through them just when they were at dinner – even though mommy had given him a look that said this was something that could wait until after they had eaten – and she would bet he had left them there! She really, really wanted to finish the picture she was working on since it was for Nysa… but she would understand if it was not completely done if she told her why. “Just a second, daddy!” she chirped brightly, dropping the yellow crayon as she hopped up and dashed off through the open door.
“Gotta grab daddy’s notes for his sermon,” she explained as she dashed past Emily and got a curious look. Really she was not supposed to run in the house, but this was important so she was sure that it did not count. After all it was for a sermon. And just like she had thought, the notes were sitting on the edge of the table where Neil had left them. Scooping them up, she turned to run back and stopped, deciding instead to walk so that she did not risk dropping or scattering any of the probably important papers. She smiled at Emily again as she passed, but it was nothing compared to the radiant grin she offered Neil once she entered the study and held up his papers. “Here they are, daddy, you left them on the table.”
Not once had the young girl stopped to listen to the nagging voice in the back of her mind; the one that was telling her ‘no no, don’t do this, remember last time… he didn’t say anything!’ If she had then she would have stayed where she was, coloring the giraffe, and she would have had a nice, quiet night. The whole house would have. But instead she had done what she always did when she heard her father say – outloud or just in his head where she was not supposed to be able to hear – that he needed something; she had gone and got it because she was sure that this was the best thing to do. All that she wanted was for him to smile and pat her on the head, maybe offer to read her a story before bed, and maybe praise her coloring before they went back to their comfortable silence.
The image of that melted away when Emilia saw the look on her father’s face as he looked at what she was holding. Her entire body froze as words zoomed through her mind. Neil’s mouth was not moving, but it was his voice. Muted and fuzzy like a radio station that had gone out of tune, but it was there and she could feel herself shrinking into something close to nothing as time stretched. ”It’s evil!” She knew that, she did! Why did she keep doing it when she knew? The tears were already starting to form when Neil took the papers from her; his movements calm even though his hands were shaking and his brow had started to glisten with a sheen of sweat. ”Thought… done with… got it out… have to… out… OUT!” Emilia flinched and the only thing that kept her from turning and running to her room were the hands that had suddenly closed on her small shoulders. They did not squeeze hard enough to hurt, but just enough to keep her there.
”Has to stop.” “Emilia.” It could be so hard to tell the difference between what he was saying and what he was thinking when her mind acted up like this! It was enough to make Emilia pull her bottom lip in between her teeth to chew on in an attempt to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling over. He would get more upset if she started to cry this soon, like it was an admission of guilt. And she was guilty! Emilia knew that, if her father said that what she did was evil then it was evil and no amount of night-time soothings from her mother to try and stem the flow of tears would erase that from her mind. “Emilia Kavanagh.”
She swallowed hard to try and keep the sob that wanted to come out from sounding in her voice. She was in trouble! He was using that voice. “Yes daddy?”
“How did you know I was looking for my notes?” ”-thing she does.”
Lying was a possibility. They had gone through this so many times now that Emilia knew how much better it would be to lie. The only problem would be that they would both know it was a lie… and she had never lied to Neil. No matter what the little, sensible voice in her head said, she did not want to start now. “Answer me, Emilia.” Neil’s voice was starting to strain.
“Heard you.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Emilia’s throat was starting to ache with effort at keeping her sobs down. “I heard you,” she repeated, the tears starting to fall. “You were w-w-wonder-“
Her voice cut off when Neil gave her a rough shake. “I have told you, Emilia! Time and time again that you can’t hear what I’m thinking. It isn’t you, it’s something else whispering in your ear.”
“B-but it’s not in my ear, it’s right-“
“Don’t you think a demon could put it in your head?” Emilia’s tears started to fall faster and the sobs were working their way past the knot in her throat. “You don’t listen to what you hear! If someone doesn’t say it where you can hear with your ears then it hasn’t been said.” Emilia tried to choke out that she did not try to do it, it just happened and she did not always know that the words had not been said, but the moment she opened her mouth she got another shake, this one hard enough to make her teeth click together. “Answer me, Emilia!”
She tried, really she tried, but all that would come out were quiet sobs that grew louder the longer he looked at her like there was something wrong with her. It had all been said, all been done, before. At least a half dozen times by now and still Emilia’s first reaction when she heard that Neil wanted something was to go and get it for him instead of stopping to think whether he had said or thought it. It was so hard for her to tell the difference! Her mind latched onto a blue-eyed face framed with blonde hair who would have reached out and put an arm around her shoulder, glaring at Neil for daring to shake and shout at her. “I-i-i-I”
“Speak.” Had Emilia been older then she would have recognized the thick note of fear in her father’s voice; but she was not. All that she saw were his disapproving eyes, twisted mouth and sweat beading on his brow. All she felt was her own wave of fear and his fingers digging into her small shoulders. She might have bruises by the morning. Can’t let mom see. She’d be mad. “Now. Say you understand and you’ll stop this evil thing you’re doing.”
Emilia took a deep, shuddering breath and practically screamed it out. “I want Nysa!” Nysa never made her feel bad. Nysa only ever made her feel good. Nysa was one of the few people in the world not directly connected in her mind to Neil. She existed in the outside world and if Neil made her feel bad then Nysa and Nysa’s house could fix it. None of her sister’s ever hurt her, but they were tied right to Neil. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down her cheeks, and she pressed her tightly closed fists to the side of her head - I can still hear your head daddy, and mommy’s right outside too - and started to scream. It was not a one breathe in and let it out scream, either, it felt like it was coming right out of her center and she could feel her head pounding as she kept going.
Even when hands closed around her middle and picked her up, Emilia continued to scream. “What are you doing?!” Someone hissed. It sounded like her mother. But had she said it? Or had Emilia heard it in her head? How was she supposed to know?! Her small fists pressed so hard into her ears that they started to ache like her throat as she felt herself carried out of the room. She was being shushed and soothed, a familiar hand rubbing her back and when she took in a choking gasp she knew. Mommy. Her hands came up and clung to Emily tightly as she stopped screaming and started sobbing again instead.
She had to stop, she had to. “How do I stop?” she asked weakly, unable to open her eyes as her body gave way to exhaustion, snuggling under the blanket that had been drawn to her chin. “Mommy… how do I stop?”
Emilia never heard the answer she was given; drifting off with her hands still clutching at her mother.