PHOEBE
Phoebe applied the burn cream with a gentle touch, making sure to fully cover each bit of hurt skin. She cleaned off her hands on a damp rag before beginning to wrap his torso in bandages. Whatever he was worried about her seeing seemed to be lost on the midwife, present but not at the same time. ”These will need to be changed at least once a day until the burn heals more.” she said to him quietly, handing him an extra roll of bandages and a container with the cream in it.”People keep telling me that – I’m young – like it is supposed to mean something.” she said quietly, looking down at her hands with a little bit of a glare. ”I’m young, so of course I’m spineless and weak? I’m young, so of course whatever unflattering description of me you’d like to pick is true? I’d like to point out that most of the people here are young but just because I don’t have a two at the beginning of my age I am somehow viewed as infantile, incapable, and unfit. No one takes me seriously. No one takes my problems seriously. It’s always, hush, hush, Phoebe, you’re just young. What does that even mean?” she said, clenching her hands into fists.
”Why is it that everything I want is so inconceivable to people because of my age? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to want to settle down. Old enough to raise three orphans but not old enough to have children of my own. Old enough to run a clinic, a college, befriend a god, fight off a pack of wolves, drag a half dead man through the snow and help nurse him back to health, fight off a squid monster and save people from a cave in, call upon a powerful fae to save a dying Undine but not old enough to be treated as anything more than an overgrown child?!” she said, fists shaking as her voice rose as loud as she dared with the boys sleeping not so far away. ”What else do I have to do that I am worthy of people’s respect? What more must I do for my emotions to be taken seriously instead of cast aside as weakness or infantile infatuation? How am I supposed to raise these three children when people think nothing more of me than ’She’s young’??”
Cause getting your dreams
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
It's strange, but it seems
A little - well - complicated
There's a kind of a sort of : cost
There's a couple of things get: lost
There are bridges you cross
You didn't know you crossed
Until you've crossed
And if that joy, that thrill
Doesn't thrill you like you think it will
Still, why am I not happier?
