Due to popular request, Begin Again is back! There will be some changes made as it has been awhile since I’ve written up. I’m truly hoping that you guys enjoy and feedback is very welcomed! tw: death.
"Momma, momma, momma! Please?! Please, can I go?!" The sound of a cheerful four year old’s voice filled the room, her hands were clasped together and her blue eyes were wide. Camri Raine had been begging to go to her best friend's birthday party for three days now. Her mother, Taylor, had been hesitant because they had made special plans for that day to go to the zoo, both her and Joe were off work for quite some time and wanted soak in every free moment as a family of three. Camri loved to see the animals, her favorites being the ducks, so Taylor was shocked when she said she preferred to attend the birthday party.
"Camz, are you absolutely positive you don't want to go to the zoo instead to spend some time with daddy and I?” Taylor asked, running her fingers through her daughters curly, light blonde hair. Camri just smiled and looked up at her daddy. Joe looked back at Taylor, then nodded. "Let her go." He said, and Taylor finally — reluctantly — agreed.
Sometimes we regret the things we say. Something as simple as the word yes being uttered can change life forever. When Taylor saw her daughter off as the other young girls mother picked her up for the party she never expected that it would be the last time she would see the innocent little girls face happy and abrasion free, she didn't realize that her saying "Bye mummy!" would be the last time the angelic and happy voice would ring through her ears.
No one knows why death comes, but it does. No one knows why it exists, why it's a thing, but it does and it is. Taylor and Joe don't know why the Lord decided to take their daughter from them so soon, but he did.
Jennie's mom was driving her and her best friend, Camri, to the birthday party. The car had been filled with the excited squeals of two little girls who couldn’t wait to attend the princess birthday party. Everything was fine one minute, the next everyone’s world seemed to crumble. A massive eighteen wheeler carelessly ran a red light and smashed into the side of the car, the side in which Camri sat eagerly and the blow was too much for her tiny body to handle.
"Unfortunately, we could not do anything. You daughter passed away on the scene,” The doctor spoke as tears fell freely from Taylor and Joe’s eyes, a look of utter devastation across both of their faces. The news had been broken. The world had collapsed around them, it was silent. There were no screams, no sobs; they were numb. Taylor wasn’t sure how to handle the news. Her world, her whole world, was laying alone in a hospital room, lifeless. “I’ll give you two some privacy,” the doctor speaks and exits the small room. It was as if his leaving set off a button inside of the young couple and their emotions showed heavily as they fell apart in each others arms.
Three years have passed now, three years since the dark day Taylor and Joe had found out about the loss of their daughter. Three years and one day since Taylor had said yes.
The couple walked hand in hand on the sand, the ocean breeze blowing Taylor's hair back. Her face was pale, her eyes puffy. In her hand, she held a yellow balloon. Yellow was Camri's favorite color and the color of her favorite animal, a duck. Joe was leading the two, walking slightly ahead. His toes reached the water first and he squeezed Taylor's hand at the sudden icy feeling on his bare feet. His face was pale as well, eyes puffy. It had been a quiet day, only a few words from their parents and a few words to each other. Both had decided to stay off of social media, not wanting to see the posts of their little girl who would be seven now.
"Let's do it." Taylor whispers, looking up at her husband with tears in her blue eyes. He nodded and squeezed her hand again. They prayed together and said a few words, speaking to their angel up in heaven. Delicately, they held their hands together and released the yellow balloon into the air. Their eyes never left the floating object, not until it was out of sight and when it was they turned towards each other.
Taylor's arms wrapped around her husband's waist and she could no longer hold in the tears or the sobs, she fell apart in his arms just like she had done three years before to that day. And Joe’s tears fell hard atop his wife's hair as he held her tight just like he had done three years before to that day.
Rating: K
Words: 262
Ship: Barry x Iris
Contents: westallen, fluff
Summary: just a deleted bit from the fic I'm working on.
Notes: this scene didn't flow well with what was going to happen but it's so cute i still wanted to share it. :)
Iris bites her lips unsure whether or not she should tell him. He gets so weird whenever she brings it up. ‘The Flash was actually on my list.’
‘Your list? Like the list?’ Barry laughs, shaking his head and then after a moment’s beat asks; ‘Who’s on your list now?’
She sighs. ‘Idris Elba and Bruce Wayne.’
Pausing, he opens his mouth to speak and fumbles over his words. ‘Okay,’ he finally says. ‘I get Idris Elba but Bruce Wayne? What happened to Oliver?’
‘We know Oliver now. It’s weird,’ Iris points out. ‘Beside Bruce Wayne is charitable and cute.’ She glares when Barry lets out a snort of laughter. ‘Okay like you can talk, who’s on your list?’
Barry sends her the sickliest sweetest smile he could muster. ‘Only you,’ he says smugly and leans down to pull her into a kiss.
‘Doesn’t work like that,’ she whispers against his lips before allowing herself to fall into them. It’s been so long and she missed the feel of him, the taste of him. Iris doesn’t think she ever wants to let go.
Reluctantly he breaks the kiss. ‘If I tell you the first person on my list, you promise not to judge?’
‘Of course,’ Iris lies, crossing her fingers. ‘I promise.’
Rubbing his face into his hands, Barry exhales. ‘Sigourney Weaver.’
‘Sigourney Weaver?’ Iris laughs. ‘I knew no normal teenager watches Aliens that much.’
‘You promised!’ he cries, feigning offense. ‘It’s a good movie!’
She stands from her chair and kisses his cheek. ‘You’re such a nerd. I love you.’
funny things happen when you teach a child how to love.
01. she learns how to love you back, how to scream the words at the top of her lungs when you’re dropping her off at daycare for the first time because she’s never been taught to be afraid of the feeling. hugs come easily and she smiles like the sun when you hold hands crossing the street. you tuck her into bed and she doesn’t flinch when you press a kiss to her forehead.
02. she learns how to love the world around her, how to be fascinated with the stars and the flowers in equal measure without fearing the loss of them -- the first time you take her stargazing, she brings her stuffed bear along and insists that he gets a turn. art teaches her how to observe, music teaches her how to listen and reading teaches her a thousand different ways to love a world she already adores.
03. she learns how to love the people around her, her best friend and her first crush and the girl that helps her with her history homework and the boy with the pink in his hair. she falls in love a hundred times a day and she’s never afraid of hitting the ground, never scared that she might not survive the falling. you watch her break her heart and you help her pick up the pieces, but once they’ve settled back into place inside her rib cage she charges off again, flying and falling and flying again like a bird with soft cotton wings.
04. she learns how to love herself and it’s the hardest lesson she ever learns, but it’s the most important. she learns how to look in the mirror without shaking, without tearing apart imperfections and drowning herself in criticism. her brown hair is beautiful and her mind is brilliant and her hands don’t shake when she presents her art to the world and you’re so proud when you realize she’s finally starting to see herself the way you’ve always seen her.
when you teach a child how to love, she grows up strong and kind and intelligent and beautiful and brave and most importantly, she grows up unafraid of love. sometimes you see children who weren’t so lucky, the way they shake and shout and tremor at the thought of the word you use so easily and you find yourself grateful that you gave her what she needed.
you find yourself heartbroken by the idea of a universe where you didn’t.
