Forming Scars
Word count: 1029
Ship: N/A
Setting: New York, 1890 (pre-canon)
AU: N/A
Triggers: Abandonment (if you want any added because I am forgetful please just tell me)
Prompt: The forming of a scar, a physical or mental one.
Explanation: The day Morris and Oscar Delanceyâs parents abandoned them.
A/N: Iâm not good at writing and got bored towards the end so that why it speeds up at the end. But enjoy!
New York, 1890
As summer slowly turned into autumn, the world began to change around New York. The temperate started to dip as the wind blew harsher, the leaves started changing colours and falling to the ground, and animals started preparing for the long, cold days ahead. It just so happens that this story is that of a similar pattern.
On a surprisingly warm day in late August, sunlight begins to creep in the Delancey family home. And although the day had just begun, the house has been alive for a few hours now. Mr and Mrs Delancey have been shouting and arguing in the kitchen since the sun rose, and yet, whatever problem seems to be plaguing them was nowhere near resolved. At first, the married couple had tried to keep the noise down, as to not wake the two sleeping boys upstairs, but as the clock ticked, so did their patience. The more heated the argument became, the louder the got. They were just hoping they werenât going to wake up their sons.
Unfortunately, they had done just that. Morris Delancey, the older of the two brothers, had woken up about 10 minutes ago to the sound of his parents arguing. Sadly, this isnât the first time he had woken up this way. The eight-year-old boy was seemingly the only one to notice his parents' neverending arguing. A more mature, caring, part of him was glad his five-year-old brother - Oscar - hadnât noticed the sudden change in their parent's relationship, but yet, Morris felt helpless. He couldnât get involved.
Or could he?
That was the singular question that would swim through his mind for the rest of his life.
Suddenly, the loud arguing stops. This caused Morris to freeze and his heart to drop. Then, he began to hear footsteps coming up the stairs timidly. As the footsteps came to a halt on the opposite side of the bedroom door, he quickly pretends that heâs asleep; he shuts his eyes just as the door creaks open.
âMorris. Oscar. Itâs time to get up, my darlings,â Mrs Delanceyâs soft voice filled the room as the warm and bright beams of light pooled in, illuminating the brotherâs shared bedroom. Morris wanted to smile at the sound of his motherâs voice but found himself frowning instead. Mrs Delanceyâs voice had soundedâŠdifferent. Like she had been crying, âCome on, boys. Weâre going on an exciting trip this morning!â the mention of a trip made Oscar practically jump out of his bed, the poor piece of furniture sounding like it was about ready to collapse at any point, and Morris simply pretended to just be waking up, trying to look grumpy and not worried.
âWhere to, mama!?â Oscar asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Oscar had always been the more energetic and louder one of the two brothers, probably since he was younger.
âWeâre going to Uncle Wieselâs house!â Mrs Delancey had tried to say it like they were going to Paris or Rome, but that didnât stop the groans that came from her two young sons. There was one thing everybody in their four-member family had in common: nobody liked going to Uncle Wieselâs. Even Mr Delancey would only go see his brother if it was necessary.
âWhy are we going there, mama?â Morris asked, which made his mother frown sadly. What possible reason would they have to go visit their uncle for? It wasnât anybody's birthday, nor Christmas. Morris wondered if it was because of money. You see, the family, like most in New York, barely had enough money to survive. Uncle Wiesel wasnât rich by any means. If he was, he wouldnât be working at the distribution window for The World but was certainly better off than they were.
âBecause,â Mrs Delancey had to clear her throat and redo her fake smile before continuing, âBecause itâs important you see your uncle. So please get ready and umâŠpack a bag. Weâll be there for most the day,â she said before quickly leaving the room, leaving both boys frowning.
Still, the brothers did as they were told. They got dressed and packed one bag between them that Morris carried downstairs because Oscar had decided that he needed to bring a certain toy that made the whole bag noticeably heavier.
The walk to Uncle Wieselâs house had been almost completely silent, which was unusual for the family. Usually, Oscar was talking everybody's ears off about nothing in particular or Mr Delancey was blabbing on about the recent news. And as they approached Wieselâs door, Morris could see tears beginning to form in his motherâs beautiful eyes.
Uncle Wiesel opened the door and began a conversation with his brother, the two men talking quietly and loudly at the same time. Mrs Delancey turned to her sons as the tears fell down her face. Simply upon seeing his mother cry, Oscar burst into tears. He never could handle seeing people upset.
âIâm so, so sorry, my darlings. Please forgive me.â she cried, hugging and kissing them both on the cheek. Morrisâ heart began to race. God, he was so confused.
âWhatâs happening, mama?â Oscar asked, his small voice shaking as more and more tears fell. Mr Delancey turned to them now, sadness breaking onto his constantly stern face.
âYouâre both going to be staying with your uncle for a while,â he spoke, trying to keep the stern look on his face, but instead, it made him somehow look all the more vulnerable. Scoffing, their uncle pulled the two boys into the house harshly, muttering something about how the family was too sentimental and closed the door. Morris tightly grabbed onto Oscarâs hand, as though he might disappear, as the brothers heard their mother cry, âWeâll come back, I promise.â
So the boys waited, and waited, and waited. And still, 9 years later, they hadnât seen their parents since that day.