Hi Kids! Wanna Learn About Fear? @untitled-childrens-show - Tumblr Blog

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

“no.” he insists, holding back tears. “not me, not me. i don’t wanna be.”

"You don't want to be a good person?"

She only half understands it.

“i dunno.” he mutters. “it’s complicated.”

"That's alright."

She gets complicated.

"Just do the best you can. Okay?"

“okay.” he whispers. “i guess i can do that.”

She opens her arms for a hug. He doesn't have to take it, but it's worth offering, isn't it?

he pales, taking a step away.

“no, i- no. no thanks.”

what child doesn’t want a hug?

"That's alright."

Sometimes they don't like that. And it matters to her that children are heard.

“i’m sorry.” he mumbles, flushed. “i just- i don’t like- sorry.”

"You're okay. I don't always like hugs either."

Mostly they're good. Sometimes they make her feel like she's being electrocuted. It's a bit wishy-washy.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

“no.” he insists, holding back tears. “not me, not me. i don’t wanna be.”

"You don't want to be a good person?"

She only half understands it.

“i dunno.” he mutters. “it’s complicated.”

"That's alright."

She gets complicated.

"Just do the best you can. Okay?"

“okay.” he whispers. “i guess i can do that.”

She opens her arms for a hug. He doesn't have to take it, but it's worth offering, isn't it?

he pales, taking a step away.

“no, i- no. no thanks.”

what child doesn’t want a hug?

"That's alright."

Sometimes they don't like that. And it matters to her that children are heard.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

“no.” he insists, holding back tears. “not me, not me. i don’t wanna be.”

"You don't want to be a good person?"

She only half understands it.

“i dunno.” he mutters. “it’s complicated.”

"That's alright."

She gets complicated.

"Just do the best you can. Okay?"

“okay.” he whispers. “i guess i can do that.”

She opens her arms for a hug. He doesn't have to take it, but it's worth offering, isn't it?

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

“no.” he insists, holding back tears. “not me, not me. i don’t wanna be.”

"You don't want to be a good person?"

She only half understands it.

“i dunno.” he mutters. “it’s complicated.”

"That's alright."

She gets complicated.

"Just do the best you can. Okay?"

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

“no.” he insists, holding back tears. “not me, not me. i don’t wanna be.”

"You don't want to be a good person?"

She only half understands it.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

something wrong sits deep inside him.

“not me.” he whispers, gripping the bottom of his shirt a bit too tight. “not me.”

"Yes, you. Everybody."

She doesn't know what's wrong, but she has to make it better.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

“oh.” he mumbles. “i don’t know about that. i don’t think i’m all that good.”

#lee galihai #tma rp #martha

"Maybe you're not. But you're good enough."

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

#lee galihai #tma rp #martha #rp chain #((ignore the prior empty reblog

"You're right. It's not fair at all."

None of this has been.

"This isn't a good place. So being a good person feels awful. But I think you're good enough."

She hopes she's good enough too.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

"i guess." he mumbles. he doesn't really understand what that means. "i dunno. it's- it sucks. it's not fair."

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

“no.” he mumbles. “i can’t learn it. the letters just walk off of the pages.”

It'd be quite a funny image if not for the pain in his face.

"It takes too long for this world to learn around you, doesn't it?"

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

“oh.” he hums. “being sick is no fun. i’m not like a normal sick, but one of my homes told me i was sick in the head cause i can’t read right. they also said that cause i liked bracelets, though, so i don’t think they were right.”

She laughs, but she doesn't sound happy.

"Well, sometimes it takes people a little longer to learn."

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

“you’re sick?” he squeaks, concerned. “well you should- you should sit down, um, i can find you a bench, or something, man i wish you told me you were sick earlier, i’m sorry, are you okay?”

She gratefully flops down onto the nearest remotely seat-adjacent thing with a little huff.

"I think I will be in a little while."

No more static to hide in. She just has to be patient.

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

“um, okay.” he says, looking at her warily. “but like, you’re an adult, so i should be fine. right?”

"Well - well, yes, but I'm not - I'm not strong right now. Physically. I'm very sick."

That's the best way she can think to describe being sent reeling by being surprisingly wrenched back into mortal flesh for the first time in generations.

"I'm not sure how big a help I am."

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."

“should… what?” he asks, a bit confused. “go in a store or call my mom or both? i mean, i figure it would be okay now, cause i could pretend that you were my mom and then the car would go away cause they usually don’t stay when the kid is with an adult.”

"Both. Just so she knows."

Knows he's safe, or knows he's not?

Martha's feet keep scratching on the concrete. It hurts, but the pain is grounding. It reminds her she is not alone anymore.

What'll she do now, now that she's her, now that she knows what she knows?

She sees a car, and a child, and has an answer.

@untitled-childrens-show

lee is walking home, a car driving a bit too slow next to him. he doesn’t pay it any mind. nor does he pay any mind to the woman following him. he just plods on with a sigh, scrolling on his iPod. he puts in his earbuds and starts listening to music, looking much more relaxed once he does.

She has put out so, so many stranger danger PSAs in her lifetime. She knows how this goes.

"Excuse me-"

She slips and skins her knee. She's bleeding.

Is that really blood?

his eyes widen. “oh my gosh, are you okay?” he squeaks, taking out his headphones and rushing back to her. “do you need help? i think i’ve got a bandaid in here somewhere..”

"That would be nice."

She watches, and is wary.

"What's your name?"

“my name’s lee! what’s yours?” he asks as he fishes a bandaid out of his bag. “here ya go. you can prob’ly put it on yourself, seeing as you’re old. i mean grown, not old. a little old.”

She laughs, and is startled by the sound of her own voice echoing back.

"I'm Martha. And Mary, sometimes. Not always."

That makes no sense. She thinks it's okay.

lee smiles. “cool! i’ll just call you martha.” he decides. “were you following me like that car was?”

"I was following the car, mostly."

Fearing it, more truthfully. But when has she ever been truthful?

“why?” he wonders, tilting his head. “i was gonna go into a store to call my mom if it started turning where i turned.”

That would probably have saved his neck. Still. She's a fearful animal, at the start and end of it.

"I still think you should. Just in case."