“Chase!” Stacy eagerly waved at him from afar, standing on a hill in the distance. Her appearance seemed a little difficult to make out, but from where Chase stood, he could vaguely see her wearing a light blue sun hat, nearly identical to the one Chase had bought her on their first date.
“Stacy?”
“Chase! I’m so glad you made it!”
“I..You are?” Chase asks, walking towards her.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Stacy responds, sitting down on the bed of flowers that’d formed around the tree, she pats the spot next to her, encouraging Chase to sit next to her
“Oh, uh, no reason, I guess..” Stacy gently places her hand on top of his and Chase's heart soars, feelings that he’d assumed had long died off seemed to reignite inside of him.
He smiles at her, carefully taking off her sun hat and setting it aside. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and lovingly gazes into her green.. no, brown, wait no- blue? Hazel maybe?
Chase looks back at Stacy, and recoils in fear when she stares back at him with emptied eye sockets.. He hastily screws his eyes shut
He wasn’t forgetting.. Was he? Of course not. How could he ever forget his wife? How could he ever forget Stacy's gorgeous waist- no, shoulder length?.. Brown? Blonde? Red? Hair.. He couldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget.
Stacy's hands become stiff and frigid, her skin turning white as ivory.
Chase hesitantly opens his eyes, only to find that Stacy herself was rapidly disappearing, slowly dissolving into a cluster of flowers
“STACY WAIT, DON’T GO! PLEASE!” Chase grips her hands tightly, tears clouding his vision
“Please.. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..”
Despite Chase's sorrowful pleas, all that remained was a small pile of pale blue flowers, stained by his tears.
He holds them close to his chest, but the wind soon picks up, carrying every last one of the beautiful flowers and Stacy's hat into the distance. He makes an attempt to follow, but fails, only being able to watch as they fade..
Chase awakens to the bright lights of his cell inside of the facility shining directly into his eyes as always. He sits up with a gasp, finding himself on the same cold hard metal frame that the scientists called a bed.
He sighs and, sits up, moving to get out of bed, but stops, noticing something had fallen off of him.
Hey y’all! I tried something different today and for my English class portfolio, I wrote a literary analysis about everybody’s favorite sad dad, Chase! I’m not that great at it yet, since this was my first time ever writing a literary analysis, but I think I did decent! ^^
If you’d like to read it, go here!
Marvin the magnificent is a die-hard Panic! At the Disco fan. Whenever he goes out for karaoke (which is often) he chooses Pray For The Wicked, and has gotten pretty good at singing it. At any given time in the Septic household, Marvin can be heard belting out lyrics while doing laundry, taking a shower, doing dishes, studying magic, cooking, etc. (He is no longer allowed to cook.) One time Chase walked into the living room to find all the furniture moved aside and Marvin dancing hard core to I Write Sins Not Tragedies. Marvin got embarrassed, but Chase just joined in. Anti was secretly recording the whole thing.
