+ @mockeryofreason | v: some truths are fire.
For as long as Heather could remember, it had just been her and ‘the Reverend’ (otherwise known as ‘Dad’) Matthew Lisinski. Nearly the entire town of New Bern was quite familiar with his work, charity and ‘good deeds’ and otherwise. He was a prominent figure head, the man she looked up to more than any, and all she had left within this brutish world. They were two peas in a pod, father and daughter, Reverend and perfectionist. That’s right. Heather Lisinksi was the world’s biggest perfectionist! Ok well, if not ‘the world’s’ then she was certainly close to fitting the title. She could receive a 95% on an exam and demand the educator re-look over her paper, or ask for extra credit to make up for the one so called incorrect answer. She was audacious and fiery and at times inconsolable. But most would not have it any other way (particularly her father), because it was what made Heather, Heather. A special kind of snowflake. With a loud GRUNT, Heather pushed her way through the double doors of the (all too familiar) beautiful building -- her icy blues were far too consumed with frustrated and hot tears to truly take in the wonder of said pathway as she stumbled in not-so-quietly (or as quietly as her father would have preferred). Because of it, whomever may be in the middle of prayer or Bible class would obviously/probably be interrupted. But the brunette could care less. She was wasted in a selfish haze filtered in vexation (and dare she admit it) hatred for certain so-called ‘philosophers’ of the arts. In other words, her tech-shop and biochemistry teachers. Science was NOT that hard. Not when she considered herself somewhat of a ‘genius’ in her own right...but, they truly pushed her to her limitations, which she understood was because they ‘expected the best out of her’ and blah blah blah blaaah!! With something a-kin to a snarl, she tossed her book bag onto one of the nearest pews, it was only then, when she looked up to see the perturbed expression upon her father’s features did she even herself out, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ears. She struggled to speak as he shook his head, sighing whilst he headed into the shadows (and probably down the hallway to his office). Heather wasn’t certain if it were an invitation for her to follow, or if he were merely reveling in his annoyance with his daughter’s attitude. Whatever the case, the teen became more startled at the fact that there had indeed been someone present at the time of her entry -- and she felt a bit foolish to be standing there with tears brimming against her pupils. Quickly, she removed them from off her face as they trickled downward. She also cleared her throat, smoothing palms along the fabric of her outfit. Then, her brow furrowed as she surveyed this being. He was new. She could tell, at least not someone she rightly knew...and she thought she had known most everyone in that God-forsaken (ha-ironic) town. And, he was handsome.
Mortified, Heather weighed out her choices. She could just run away after her father and pretend as if she hadn’t just made a fool out of herself (and him) with her show of angst, or she could be polite, introduce herself?? --- or she could just...stand there awkwardly...staring??? Finally, she came-to, rapidly removing her glance. “Uh--um...” she struggled to speak. “Sorry...” it was all she could muster on such short notice.













