dawn wright.
I’ll remain tender inside
like the pulp of some fruit of the desert,
or like the Devil immobilized in God. er nurse for ridefm.
written by dee.
(intro.)
𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖌𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖔 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝖜𝖆𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝖎𝖙? two minutes in and they were already fighting. it isn’t unusual for them. whether their off or on their relationship remained intense— and messy. this was the messier side. one where he didn’t know when to leave well enough alone after shutting her out for weeks. but he wasn’t about to simply leave and let this lie. fingers move quickly, wrapping around her wrist before she could pull away after poking him in the chest. “ and i made the WRONG choice. is that what you want to hear? that i fucked up and shouldn’t have pushed you away— again. ” he releases her then, even removes his other hand from the door. “ i miss you. and i’ll keep saying it whether you like it or not. even if you’re DONE. ” there is emphasis on that final word. because that is the feeling he’s getting now. that after six years of this she may actually have had enough. enough of him. and he wants to hear her say it before he leaves tonight.
dawn stilled. there it was: the words she’d thought she’d longed to hear. it was bittersweet almost, how a dream sequence come to life hardly ever felt like one hoped it would. dawn dropped her hand and pushed the lingering ghost of his touch to the back of her mind. in her silence, she’d hoped that the right words to say would fill her mouth and spill into the empty space between them. she’d hoped that her hands would come unbound and fall into the familiarity of shared muscle memory. she’d hoped for this and more, but reality had a funny way of coming up short. what could she say that he didn’t already know? dawn’s lips had parted, as if to say i love you, i miss you, you have nothing to fear. in another time, she may have extended him that very branch, but now? now it felt as though dawn had to play her cards carefully. she couldn’t afford the same freedom. finally, dawn peeled her gaze from the intensity of his own. she looked elsewhere — anywhere but at him — and took a step back, granting him entrance to a place he was always welcome to call home. her expression grew sheepish, pink and all. “you still wanna come in?”
dawn loved the fair. everything about it was exhilarating. the sea of people, eating one’s weight in sweets, and even the endearingly janky rides. she loved it all. where some saw an endless array of health code and safety violations, dawn simply saw unabashed charm. she hooked her finger into one of the hollow balls before them, patiently watching as their fellow contestants tried and failed to land theirs in one of the few colored cups. goblet pitch was a simple game, but even more so when the rules were bent. with so few chances left, and even fewer wins under their belts, dawn was tired of playing shy.
“okay, new game plan.” dawn wrapped her stuffed neon serpent around her neck like a scarf, and leaned into her partner. she smelled sweet; a mixture of perfume and a particularly choice funnel cake. “try hittin’ someone else’s ball before the girls can clear the board up. that way it’ll fall in easier--like pool, or whatever.” she smiled then, genuine and true. dawn went every year with one mission in mind: to win. the prizes were never much, but they meant magnitudes more to those she’d gift them to in the pediatric ward. it was all about the little things, right? “watch this.”
the whole point of fairs were to go big or go home. needless to say, mostly everyone had their eye on the red cup, which signified the largest prize. easy enough. dawn took a moment to feel it out before she gave it a light toss, watching as her ball ricocheted off another and into its target cup. “boom. what’d i say, huh?” her joy was written all over her face then, illuminated by the bright lights surrounding them. if she kept it up any longer, her cheeks would start to hurt eventually. “that one’s for you, baby. go ahead and pick your prize.”
this would be the third time in a long 12 hours that allegra had attempted to swallow her pride & ask for help. the sheer thought of it alone made her insides crawl. the first two times she simply refused to speak, hating herself more each time for the weakness taking over her ability to withhold pain. this third time however, an involuntarily loud sharp inhale escaped her lips as she glanced down at the gruesome wound that had re-opened at her torso due to the vigorous tasks given to the prospect recently - that, or the fights she gladly placed herself in. it was infected; she didn’t have to be a doctor to realize that. ignoring it, much like the mental wounds that terrorized her at this time of night, was her way of coping.
cold-sweat poured over her forehead as she stammered for the right words to say through the burner phone, shaking both in consuming pain & anger. “dawn,” was finally uttered louder than expected, trying to compensate from the weakness she felt. “i… i nee—” she couldn’t. “are you working right now?”
dawn blinked into the endless night. for hours she’d been restless: tossing and turning, mind unable to succumb to a much needed rest. it was a miserable affair disrupted by none other than the sound of a familiar voice. she sat up and brushed her too-warm comforter to the side. “no, i’m—i’m home right now.” dawn’s voice came out slow, unsure. she’d received too many late night calls to not assume the worst, and allegra’s eager work ethic didn’t help. it was a reality she’d long learned to accept ever since she started getting cosy with stratford’s most wanted.
she moved towards the edge of the bed and reached for the light switch. whatever it was, dawn knew that allegra wasn’t calling because she wanted a chatty distraction. she could hear everything that allegra failed to say; a talent honed by the time they’d spent together. “where are you?” a simple enough question—a necessary one, too. dawn knew better than to push her, and she certainly thought too much of her to put her in a position to beg. silently, dawn thought of her makeshift emergency bag and what could possibly be awaiting her on the other side of the line. pain was pain. it couldn’t be masked—not wholly, at least. she bit down on her lip, and picked her words carefully. “you think maybe i should come over?”
𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖑, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘. the dawn he knew and loved. a firecracker ready to give him a well deserved tongue-lashing. which wasn’t something he tended to take in stride. now very well likely wouldn’t be any different. cal didn’t move, hand firmly planted on the door. he wasn’t about to budge and let her off easily. “ damned if i do, damned if i don’t, huh? you’re pissed when i don’t want to talk and now you’re pissed when i do. make up your fucking mind, woman! ” he is making things worse. he knows it as the words come out of his mouth, yet he doesn’t stop. “ you really just going to stand there and act like you don’t miss me? come on, dawn. we both know better than that. ”
dawn’s shock splashed all over her face. she’d grown pink with embarrassment, and warm with vexation. of course he’d pull that card. dawn quickly snapped her mouth shut. “you don’t get to do that. in fact, you don’t get to say a god damn thing about anyone missing anyone. you made a choice,” -- a dainty finger slipped from underneath her sweater to poke him square in his chest -- “and unlike you, i am trying to live with that. that’s it. that’s all it ever fucking is.”
𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖆 𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊. deep down he wasn’t expecting her to open the door, not even a crack. but she did. and he’s greeted by wide blue eyes and cooper-red hair. it is almost like a punch to gut, he honest to god didn’t realize how much he missed her until she was staring at him dead in the eyes. “ to see you. ” he answers after a beat of silence between the two. the blunt, honest truth. but now it isn’t enough just to look at her. he wants in. wants to talk. about what? fuck if he knows, they could talk about the weather for all he cares as long as it is with her. “ you look good— as usual. you gonna let me in? ” cal steps closer. hand on the door before she can tell him no and slam the door in his face. “ please? i just want to talk. no funny business, i promise. ”
it was her turn to be silent then. which did she tackle first: the nonchalance, or his presumption? dawn eyed the shrinking distance between them, but made no effort to move. she didn’t want to have to be the one to budge, or yield. not there, and certainly not then. “wow. ain’t it funny.. how we only get to do that when you want to?” her hand tightened around the door handle, while the other, bunched in none other than a sweater paw, gesticulated her growing frustration. he wanted to talk. to talk, he said! fucking rich. “the only way i get to hear anythin’ at all about you these days is through what everybody else has to say, and all of a sudden you’re here? cos you wanna talk? nah.” dawn shook her head. where was that same willingness when everything had gone to shit? “go home, cal. nobody asked you to come. you’ve seen me, you’ve talked to me; you’re good.” she huffed, still unbelieving of just how -- how okay he’d been about it all. “now, get your hand off the door.”
𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖇𝖆𝖉 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆. cal knew that good and well before he even drove over here. they hadn’t talked in awhile— not since their latest breakup. his fault, the not talking ( although the breakup is his fault too if he cared to be honest with himself ) he has a knack for shutting her out the moment they fall apart. cal knows it hurts her, and maybe that’s why he does it. some childish way to make himself feel better for a fleeting moment. or a self-destructive hope that she won’t take him back, because really she shouldn’t. six years of this same song and dance, she should have told him to FUCK OFF for good a long time ago. but she didn’t and he couldn’t find it in himself to stay away even if he wanted to. which is exactly how cal finds himself knocking on her front door right at this very moment. he isn’t sure what he’s going to say— it isn’t like he came here armed with an apology and looking to get back together. really, he just wants to see her. even if she ends up slamming the door in his face. “ dawn, hey, it’s me. open up? ”
she was half-way to the door when she’d heard it: a voice that was as crushing as it was familiar. if dawn had any sense at all, she’d have left him there to wait, just as he’d left her there before. yet that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? there was never any sense involved when it came to cal. she wasn’t capable of turning away, and treating those that she loved like strangers. he knew her better than anyone. try as he may, that was something neither of them could change. accepting that there was no other choice to be made, dawn neared the door. she was dressed simply, in a sweater and cotton shorts. it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but still. she was nervous, drenched in a sense of foreboding. sweaty palms smoothed her hair down. fuck it. dawn unlocked the door and opened it just enough for them to see each other. her expression was as even as she could muster, but her eyes, wide and all, told a different story. “what d’you want?”
– “Look I really need you to pay these dues. My boss is having a fit over all these missing books and she thinks that I, for some reason, having a better chance of getting you to pay.” Irey said as she played around with a knife in her hand. She’s been watching YouTube videos on butterfly knife tricks and she wanted to learn how to do it.
“Ain’t no Christmas spirit to be had around here, huh?” Dawn had never really been much of a reader. Words on a page were all but captivating to her. She’d been making an effort to change that as of late, starting with a few choice books on psychology and the like. Truthfully, it was a poor effort—seeing as they’d mostly just adorned her coffee table—but it was an effort all the same. Dawn leaned her forearms against the counter, fingertips resting on yet another book that was bound to meet the same fate. “How about if we just renew 'em? Gives me more time and gets your boss off your back." She shot her a hopeful look, pointedly avoiding the toy in her hands. "Boom; win-win for us both, baby."
( jessica chastain. forty. cis female. she/her. ) in stratford, dawn wright is more commonly known as red. they’ve been living in stratford for thirty years and currently work as a nurse. some say they are malapert & rancorous but i’m more inclined to believe those that say they’re ballsy & dependable. if you walk by their house, you can sometimes hear cloudbusting by kate bush playing from their window. ( the sting of comments better left unsaid, driving with the windows down, subjecting oneself to the unknown, and never knowing when to stop. )
hello, all! i’m dee, your local goblin whose hands are shaking as they type this! :-) i hope everyone’s having a good evening / morning / day. here’s to writing some good shit together!
disclaimer: i have dawn’s stats here, which hopefully gives you all the need-to-know info at a glance. the second section has death & suicide mentions, so please steer clear of that if need be.
if dawn is anything, it’s restless. she’s always felt like a bird about to take flight, or like she’s looming on the edge of some great cliff. it’s like some current flowing through her bones, or some itch that can’t be scratched. she yearns for more & hates that nothing is ever wholly enough for her.
dawn grew up trailer trash & she still was trailer trash when she moved to stratford after the death of her mother. her dad, nathaniel, was a drunken tradesman who'd never known what to do with the life he’d been given. he was hardly a father when diane was around & even less so after her passing. despite their blood relation, however, he & dawn were more akin to roommates than anything else. nathaniel provided the “essentials” [ bits of clothes every couple of months, piss-poor cooking, a place to sleep ] and little else. he wasn’t warm or particularly kind--not like he was to the girlfriends that’d come in and out of their lives. he didn’t know how to speak to children or how to be the mentor that dawn needed. he’d tried, but it wasn’t like dawn knew how to be the daughter he’d wanted either. she wasn’t diane. she wasn’t warm, obedient, and kind. she was gritty & spoke back, even when it wasn’t smart to.
growing up, dawn was hardly ever home. a majority of her adolescence was spent being a wild cat. as a kid, she’d get up to shenanigans with other kids from school or the neighborhood. she was a tomboy through-and-through, covered in various scars and bruises from climbing & doing things she shouldn’t have. she was an okay student, but her report cards always made a note to mention attention + behavioral issues.
as a teenager, she was even worse. it was then that she learned the careful craft of chasing cheap thrills. always slipping from crowd to crowd, dawn was a social butterfly. she’d slip her way into any group that would have her, reveling in any and all attention cast her way.
dawn was poor-poor. like, having frequent sleepovers at friends houses, because you want an actual real meal levels of poor.
above all, dawn’s childhood taught her how to be hungry & that feeling’s never left her.
it was a particularly persistent set of teachers that really pushed dawn to be more than what she was setting herself up for. her chemistry teacher really made a point to speak to her in frank terms + helped her fill out college application forms when that time of year came around. at the time, dawn had brushed it off, as she did with most things, but she’s always been grateful. it was nice to feel seen for once. she kept in touch & got their recommendation when admissions opened up for nursing school.
going to college & being in a new environment really forced dawn to get it together. she couldn’t just be a little shithead anymore--she had actual responsibilities & appearances now. she mellowed out some afterward, doing everything that she thought people were supposed to do. she got her own place, paid her bills, & worked like she actually cared about what she was doing--which she did, for once.
somewhere along the way, getting stuck in that grind & facing the fears that rose from losing her father started to really get to her. that restlessness had come back in full force, & dawn didn’t know how to handle it. she fell into a bit of a destructive rut that resembled that of her teenage years, and sought help only when her boss gave her an ultimatum. she’s better now, but not quite how she was.
dawn is unflinching. it’s extremely hard to unsettle her. are your guts falling out? is someone throwing shit + breaking chairs? is there a literal fire happening? well, you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at dawn. she loves fixing things & finds it really easy to keep a cool head when shit hits the fan. she’s focused & nonjudgemental. she won’t question why you look like shit or why she has to stitch up a stab wound.
dawn yearns to feel needed & is uncomfortable when she isn’t. that want is what fuels her friendliness. she wants to be in a group, she wants to be something to someone. she goes out of her way for others not out of an innate altruism, but as a result of her deliberate choice to be good. she wants people to feel that she cares for them, so they may in turn care for her, too.
that being said, dawn’s decision-making isn’t immaculate. she has a blinding rage that’s a blight on her progress. it’s regressive & ugly & irresistible. dawn takes things too far sometimes & keeps pushing. she digs her fingers into wounds she knows are fresh & always keeps her knives close. she’s capable of a lot of good and love, but she’s also capable of a very white-hot rage.
some random bits are that dawn is a karaoke queen. she’s a heavy-weight, but doesn’t like alcohol. she’s an excellent hugger. she has an excellent memory & remembers the little things that people tell her. terrible at accepting gifts. she takes life one day at a time. total chatterbox. thinks she has a great pokerface, but her eyes are a straight window to that which lies behind. she’s definitely not a very good driver. writes notes on her hands and wrists.
some songs that make me think of her are
rock city
i bet on losing dogs
disorder
hounds of love
some wanted connection ideas !
a childhood memory -- maybe these two were a couple of ragtag misfits up to no good. maybe your muse’s parents felt bad for dawn, and would invite her over for dinner, regardless of how your muse felt about it. maybe they grew up in the same trailer park. maybe your muse’s mom dated her dad at one point. idk!!
teenage escapades -- did they used to drive around without a care in the world, swearing they were gonna live forever? did they try to use their fake id’s to buy cheap liquor & then haul ass after the cashier wasn’t having it? did dawn manage to weasel her way into your muse’s life & fuck it up somehow?
it’s a sibling thing -- are they related? no. does that stop them from acting like actual siblings? also no. dawn would do anything for this person, including, but not limited to, annoying them to death. silly, serious, and self-less.
frenemies -- they say you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. either way, these two are relatively close. do they even remember why they sometimes-kind-of-but-not-really-but-also-kind-of hate each other? maybe, maybe not.
best buds -- everyone needs a best friend &, believe it or not, dawn has a lot of love to give. being her best friend includes unlimited venting sessions, on-call assistance, & free snacks. truly a once in a lifetime deal.
playing doctor -- listen, dawn doesn’t wear those scrubs because she thinks they’re sexy. she knows her shit & who else are you going to call at ass o’clock because you’re bleeding all over your carpet floor? besides, at least when you call her, you don’t get reamed with a 2k bill after.
we don’t talk about that -- sometimes, dawn is off being a lovey-dovey bitch, which is embarrassing, but when she’s not? well.. she wouldn’t be opposed to a rebound, or one night stands that maybe never should have happened to begin with.
BUT REALLY I’M DOWN FOR ANYTHING AND THIS IS ALREADY SO DANG LONG SO IM GONNA END IT HERE AND SAY THAT ILY AND WANT TO DO ALL OF THE PLOTS WITH EVERYONE THANK U BYE SMOOCHES
