JUDE
the light of dawn is coming
Jude has grown accustomed to slapping a note on his apartment door with his daily whereabouts and estimated return. Not that he has visitors - it’s entirely to ensure his beloved cat will be taken care of if he spontaneously vanishes or dies like people tend to do in Caido.
People like his dad apparently.
His dad who is dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
It’s news nobody is ever prepared to hear, and certainly not this young. Devastating, all-consuming news.
Except…it doesn’t feel devastating?
Jude had received the news at his doorstep with a wooden expression. He vaguely remembers thanking the courier before making dinner and going to bed. He hasn’t cried; isn’t sure he needs to - isn’t sure he wants to? Jude has lost each parent twice over, grief is a familiar friend. But there was mercy in uncertainty then - never this sort of finality. There is no search to start or hope to hold out. It simply is. It simply hurts.
So he runs, because it’s the only way to cope with pain that his family ever taught him. But he doesn’t run far, because Jude never inherited their ease of abandonment.
Currently struggling against a child-sized flytrap with teeth, Jude kicks at its stem as he scuffles and curses - both hands shoving the massive head away from him. The stem cracks and it jolts sideways, sending Jude to the ground with a yelp - harassed but alive. Skittering backward until he’s safely out of range, Jude stares blankly at the wilted plant.
The pounding of his heart won’t slow even after the danger has passed. Why? Why? He’s fine. He’s alive, and it’s just a stupid, mindless plant. He needs to stand up and move on.
Fisting the rocks and bony shards beneath his hands Jude hurls them and screams. “Fuck you! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Flushed and wild-eyed, he turns and rips violently at the ferns beside him, hands scraping and bleeding immediately on their rough veins as he yanks them from the earth and throws them too. Lurching to his feet, half-blinded by curls stick to his damp, dirt-streaked forehead, Jude tears at anything within reach as sweat stings his eyes. “Fuck you all! I hope you rot! I hope you -” the skeleton-shale beneath his feet crumbles and he slides down the embankment toward the water’s edge, bone dust and plant carnage sent flying in his wake and settling in his hair. On his back with the summer sun in his eyes, Jude lays where he lands and finally cries.
People like his dad apparently.
His dad who is dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
It’s news nobody is ever prepared to hear, and certainly not this young. Devastating, all-consuming news.
Except…it doesn’t feel devastating?
Jude had received the news at his doorstep with a wooden expression. He vaguely remembers thanking the courier before making dinner and going to bed. He hasn’t cried; isn’t sure he needs to - isn’t sure he wants to? Jude has lost each parent twice over, grief is a familiar friend. But there was mercy in uncertainty then - never this sort of finality. There is no search to start or hope to hold out. It simply is. It simply hurts.
So he runs, because it’s the only way to cope with pain that his family ever taught him. But he doesn’t run far, because Jude never inherited their ease of abandonment.
Currently struggling against a child-sized flytrap with teeth, Jude kicks at its stem as he scuffles and curses - both hands shoving the massive head away from him. The stem cracks and it jolts sideways, sending Jude to the ground with a yelp - harassed but alive. Skittering backward until he’s safely out of range, Jude stares blankly at the wilted plant.
The pounding of his heart won’t slow even after the danger has passed. Why? Why? He’s fine. He’s alive, and it’s just a stupid, mindless plant. He needs to stand up and move on.
Fisting the rocks and bony shards beneath his hands Jude hurls them and screams. “Fuck you! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Flushed and wild-eyed, he turns and rips violently at the ferns beside him, hands scraping and bleeding immediately on their rough veins as he yanks them from the earth and throws them too. Lurching to his feet, half-blinded by curls stick to his damp, dirt-streaked forehead, Jude tears at anything within reach as sweat stings his eyes. “Fuck you all! I hope you rot! I hope you -” the skeleton-shale beneath his feet crumbles and he slides down the embankment toward the water’s edge, bone dust and plant carnage sent flying in his wake and settling in his hair. On his back with the summer sun in his eyes, Jude lays where he lands and finally cries.
ready to return everything the darkness stole
