#omniscient-winter

[turpificatum-blog]

Documented Staff: omniscient-winter 

Current date was **/**/***;10:32 p.m. He wasn’t supposed to be seen, but he suppose it could be worse. It could be his parents. his mother maybe. Not that she knew he was alive. His father would be upset if he discovered his little escape. Much to his boredom and interest he found a maid of the manor; one of them at least. The surprise she must be feeling to know he exist around the halls.

“I want to play a game.”

[brown-eyed-trickster-archive]

omniscient-winter

Jack was suppose to be out gathering fire wood that morning. But as usual he had gotten distracted. This time his distraction came in the form of a bunny. Jack had developed the habit that he had to chase every single bunny he came in contact with. In the hopes that they were the Easter Bunny. Thus far Jack had been unsuccessful, but he figured it was fun to try. Right now he was running after a rather small brown bunny when they disappeared inside a rabbit hole. Jack panted out of breath as he knelt down on the ground, craning his neck to try and see inside.

[hopelessly--bound]

❥

❥ — a childhood memory

TV buzzing in the background, he pulled the soft, blue blanket closer. The couch and television accompaniment had become somewhat of a nightly comforting ritual. His mother having been absent for two weeks now, still on her very important business trip, (No time to call and check on her only child, of course. ) left him plenty of time to talk to the shadows that danced in the corner of his eyes. Thunder roared from outside and he reached for the remote, clicking it up 10 bars of volume higher. Simon pulled the blanket over his head and closed his eyes, praying that sleep would overtake him before the fear of thunder did. It had rained quite a lot since his mother left, leaving only a note and a couple bags of groceries. There had been a bit of flooding down the road the other day on his walk to Grundskola, but hopefully it wouldn’t rise to his neighborhood. He tried to focus on the rising water in the forested area or school or really anything other than the cracks of thunder that continued on ahead. As he closed his eyes tighter, his hands brushed against some left over cracker crumbs. His stomach grumbled and he plucked a piece of discarded cracker from his earlier dinner off of the plush sofa and popped it into his mouth. Still hungry. His white noise of colorful cartoon characters suddenly died as bright light flashed and left. The storm had taken his only auditory comfort, leaving him utterly alone in the eerily dark and quiet house. “Nej, nej…” He whimpered and peaked out from the navy fabric, making out the familiar shape of the now dead television set as  the porch light bounced off of it. “Nej, nej, snälla…” His brown eyes lined with tears at the realization of how alone he was in the storm…and how mad his mom would be if she got back and saw the television was broken. as he pleaded for it to turn back on.