{a thousand slowly dying sunsets} {savvy}

[ellie]

“So, this would what it’d feel like to only have one arm…” she murmured thoughtfully to herself, “I feel bad for those who have to have a limb amputated,” she whispered sympathetically then as she quickly peered into the mirror in the hallway by the front door. Her father had done nothing to help and it’d been a friend’s mother who had driven her to the Hospital to have her arm checked out and placed in a cast and a sling. Trust her bastard of a father not to take her after he was the one who had drunkenly pushed her aside and caused her to fall and land on her arm and break it.

The reason he had pushed her was because he’d taken her phone away from her and upon seeing her brother’s name flashing up on the screen her father had bitterly snatched her phone and wandered out into the back yard, threatening to drop it against the concrete slabs and break it. After angrily trying to swipe the phone back her father had pushed her and instead broken her arm. Well, in actual fact, he broke her phone moments after, stomped his boot down on it and hollered away drunkenly before staggering back in doors to grab another beer whilst he left his daughter crying out in pain.

She’d managed to help herself up and wander back indoors only to find her father crashed out on the sofa and so with that she had called her friend for help. She explained that it’d merely been an accident to the nurse at the Hospital, explained she had tripped whilst in the back yard and fallen awkwardly onto her arm before explaining her father had been at work. They bought it, just like everyone else did. Turns out Eliza was pretty good at making a few white lies. She wasn’t doing it to protect her father, oh no, she did it so she could keep a safe over her head and avoid being put in care. She didn’t know when or if her brother would be back from London, all contact had been cut off from him and she doubted she could rely on any friend to give her a place to stay for several years from now.

There was simply nobody to turn to or nowhere to go, so she was stuck with a raging alcoholic of a father who spent most his time drinking and yelling at his daughter or sleeping in random areas in the house. Whenever she slept, Eliza crept out of the house but when she came home he was usually wide awake and drunk waiting to send her to her room and threatening to ruin her belongings. He’d smashed her phone beyond repair and even kicked and smashed the screen of her laptop. No phone, no laptop… she had no contact with anybody now apart from friends at school.

They often asked why she hadn’t texted or called and she was forever trying to find excuses but they didn’t buy it and it was started to get on their nerves but Eliza was determined to keep her alcoholic father under wraps, she couldn’t face being put into care, she couldn’t face seeing him go to prison or anything of the sort because she’d be alone, she’d have nobody. She could risk a few more broken limbs to keep the roof over her head. She still attended school bright and early every week day; she even had a part time job as a waitress. Eliza was the one bringing the money and putting food on the table, she’d learnt to cook and she cleaned every day and she had money kept in the bank from previous Birthdays and Christmas, it was the only way to keep her home, her father didn’t work.

He hadn’t worked for several months now. He was bitter; always bitter… he never used to be. She knew that the death of her mother had been hard on him but it’d been hard on Eliza and her brother too. Eliza wasn’t naive but she didn’t seem to realize that she really could end up with several more broken limbs or something much worse; she didn’t seem to realize what her alcoholic father was capable of yet… It was a Saturday morning and her father was up and about, shuffling about and yelling angrily about nothing upstairs.

“ELIZA!” he bellowed, appearing at the top of the stairs.

“Oh, there you are,” he was relatively sober, but bitter… always bitter… no ‘hello sweetheart, how’re you this morning?’ just a quiet grunt of acknowledgement that she was alive and in the house. “Are you making breakfast?”

“I’ve already had breakfast… you were asleep, I tried to wake y—”

“You had breakfast without me?” he sounded angry, very angry. “Fucking Hell, Eliza,” he snarled and disappeared from view, dragging himself into the bathroom. He continued to angrily grumble away behind the closed door and Eliza glanced at the front door wanting to make a quick escape. As she reached for the door handle she heard a heavy thud of footsteps and saw her father ambling downstairs.

“Don’t even think about going anywhere. You didn’t wish the dishes from last night,” he growled. “So you can go wash ‘em before you think about going anywhere,” and with that he disappeared into the living area threw himself onto the couch and turned the TV on with the remote.

Eliza really did have the patience of a saint but she had to, if she yelled back she’d probably have no useable arms. “Right… okay…” she murmured quietly and made her way obediently into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later she was hovering sheepishly by the doorway that lead from the kitchen into the living area, “dishes are done.”

Her father waved his hand dismissively at her to hush her, almost hypnotized by the game of soccer he was watching.

“Dad, can I go out now?”

“Where the Hell do you want to go now?! What’re you going to do with a broken arm?!”

“Well, I can do plenty… I did just wash the dishes with a broken arm…” Eliza mumbled.

“Don’t speak to me like that!” he roared, throwing the remote at the ground and glaring over in his daughter’s direction. “You can go back to your room if you’re gonna talk like that,” he sighed heavily, eyes moving back to the screen, “have we got another more beer left?”

“Go and check yourself you bastard,” Eliza snarled then and her heart went rampant in her chest when her father lunged from his seat and moved toward her threateningly. She tried to move anywhere but his arm swung out and the back of his hand caught her on the cheek swiftly, the ring he wore on his finger cutting the skin there and making it bleed profusely. Muffling a yelp, Eliza shrunk away from him as he stormed past her into the kitchen. Darting forward then she snatched the keys from the coffee table and bolted for the door and within seconds she was safely outside with the door locked behind her whilst her father bellowed her name.

She could feel her cheek flush, blood rushing to the bruised and bleeding area. She was starting to realize what her father was capable of, but like she’d acknowledged so many times… she had nowhere to go, this was her home, her broken home, the home that she was trying her best to keep together, the house she was paying for. Not only that but she had to pay for her own horse too and she swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back burning tears at the thought that she may just have to sell him. Gadget… she couldn’t give him up, she didn’t know how. She had to see him, maybe for the last time, she didn’t quite know yet but she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

Within an hour she was in Gadget’s stall, curled up beside him as he lay in the sawdust with his legs neatly tucked under him. He almost seemed to sense something was wrong as Ellie huddled against him silent but helpless. “I’ll miss you…” she whispered, “I wish I could take you for one last gallop, but… I… can’t, sorry,” she glanced down at her useless, broken arm and bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t want to sell you,” she whispered, “we’re a team you and I,” she smiled a watery smile then as the chestnut gelding craned his head and blew gently across her hand and whickered quietly as though in agreement. “Team Gadget,” she smiled, resting her head against the gelding’s shoulder, her eyes slipping shut.

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, her guess was about thirty minutes, she heard shuffling and sat bolt upright and watched as Gadget rose to his feet and peered over the stable door where a strangely familiar face stood. The boy’s shadow stretched across the hay and sawdust and fell over her face. Hesitantly, Eliza rose to her feet and studied him quickly, she almost forgot the injury on her cheek but a burning, throbbing pain quickly reminded her it was there. “Hey,” she said uncertainly, “do I know you…?”

status; complete
reservation; savvy and chris
notes; *sniff* ;___; try and ignore length please o.o; so much museee.

[chris]

"Hey Amy, just callin' to let you know I'm back in town." He sounded tired which made sense seeing as how he was actually tired. He'd just returned from his rather lengthy vacation in Australia, why he had decided to go there was beyond comprehension. Perhaps it was because the weather was pleasant or maybe it was the sense of danger that the continent held. Nah, it was just a luxury rich people had. The luxury of being able to travel to random places for no reason at all - besides it being a spur of the moment thing.

"How was the flight?" His sister didn't sound the least bit interested, but he figured he would enlighten her anyway. "Long as fuck. Honestly, I thought it'd never end. I felt like a sardine and I was flying FIRST CLASS!" He hated flying and airlines and practically everything that involved planes in general. He wasn't afraid of flying, oh no, he merely hated the people involved with flying. Chris doubted he'd be able to survive nineteen hour flight without going postal. "Well… that's what you get for flying… honestly, you should have booked a cruise."

He scoffed at his sister's suggestion. A cruise?! Humph, how absurd - who in their right mind would take a cruise to Australia of all places?! Flying was the fastest and easiest option. "Hm, I could have - but that would've taken far longer. I reckon' I could have used dad's yacht - but I haven't spoken to him for several months." Eh, the yacht would be the same as a cruise 'cept he'd have the boat to himself - minus the captain and the odd maid or two. "Ha! I doubt dad would let you take it, especially if you planned to sail it."

"I wouldn't be sailing it! Jasper would, honestly I'm not that stupid. I'd wreck the thing if I were to operate it alone."

"Right, well I still doubt it'd happen - even if Jasper went." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked toward the barn. "Well it doesn't matter now, I flew and hated every minute of it. My god, you'd think they'd make these planes less cramped!" Leave it to Chris to bitch about flying first class and having enough room to sit an elephant next to him.

"My god, Chris! You whine more than a tween pop star, honestly I think you should have been born with the vagina in our family."

"Whatever, all I gotta say is that you better start sleeping with one eye open." He heard his sister chuckle on the other end and couldn't help but smile. "Bring it! I look forward to seeing what you can dish out." Oh he'd dish out a lot, he could promise her that. Chris took pride in being the family prankster. He and his sister had been quite the team when they were kids - and they were constantly trying to one-up each other. "Ha! You better be careful what you wish for. Anyway, I'm almost to the barn - I'll holler at you later."

He disconnected the call and slid his phone into the back pocket of his washed out jeans. He'd arranged for some stable hands to help exercise and care for his horses - but he couldn't help but feel that they probably screwed up. One by one, he visited each horse and gave them a few minutes of attention before moving on. His mare Zero was the last on his list and he eagerly made his way over to her stall.

Chris couldn't help but smile as the mare whinnied a greeting to him and stuck her beautiful head out over the stall door to greet him. "Hey girl, I've missed you." He gently rubbed the palm of his hand against her forehead before giving her a carrot.

He went to enter her stall when he glanced over into the one next to hers. A girl was sleeping by a finely built gelding, and he couldn't help but think that he'd met her before. Chris was about to return to his task when the girl woke up and spoke to him. “do I know you…?” "I'm not sure? I'm Christian Bell, though I'd prefer if you called me Chris… and you are?"

done :3
ha! he really should have been born with the vagina xD who else complains about flying first class? lucky hoe xD