|
Post by EMMA LOUISE RHODES on Nov 26, 2012 21:05:49 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][cs=2] | ONLY HANGING ON BY A THIN THREAD ----------------------------------------------------------
[style= overflow: auto; width: 220px; height: 275px; padding:5px; font-size: 13px; background-color: #0e0e0e; border: 5px solid #0e0e0e;]She gripped her cup of tea with one hand while running the free one down the side of her neck. Gazing out the kitchen window, she bit her lip. She was always worried about him and what he was doing out there while she hung around the house and taught the limited amount of children in the area. She blinked a few times, looking down at her tea before sighing and leaving the window before she worked herself back up again. Evelyn was sleeping and had been for a half hour or so. Things were boring, but stressful all at the same time. The house had been spotless and always was. Whenever Emma was angry, upset, stressed or sad she tended to clean things, it was just one of the many strange things did to hide her feelings so she didn't have to lash out at people. She was the silent type, the fuming in the dark kind of girl who never raised her voice and would cry before she'd hit something. The woman had never wanted to be like this, but it was something she couldn't help and it had stayed with her since childhood. She was never the 'tough' chick, the one who could back herself up when some girl in school made fun of her. She was never the one who would stand up and knock someone out for tripping her, instead she left the scene and made sure no one was around before she started to cry. Before she'd met John the only other person she'd cry in front of was her father. She hated to cry, that was why she pushed other emotions in front of that, followed by the weird things she'd do to try to focus on something else than waterworks. Crying was weak, and that was the last thing she wanted to be at a time like this.
Barefoot, she crept down the wooden hallway to her daughter's room. Peeking around the corner of the door Emma watched her daughter's angelic face as her chest rose and fell softly and her soft snoring filled the room. Evelyn had been the current rock keeping Emma from falling apart. She was doing this for her daughter, she had to stay strong for her baby girl. If not god knows what would happen. She watched for a moment or two longer before closing the door and padding softly back down the hallway to the kitchen. Taking a sip from her tea, Emma finally let go of the white cup, setting it down on the polished clean table. Pulling out a chair she slid her petite frame onto it and laid her head in her hands, dark curls tumbling around her face and grazing the table top softly.
Sammy came trotting in, a low meow escaping him before he rubbed his orange body against her leg, tail twitching and a purr erupting from his throat. He hopped up on the chair next to her, then up onto the table to rub his face against her arm. He sniffed at her tea, sneezed and then let himself drop on the table and roll over for her to pet him. Emma looked up and sighed, picking him up and placing him on the floor. "No table." She said shortly, eyeing him while he gazed up at her with his big green eyes. With a sideways smile she rubbed behind his ear and then went to the sink to gaze out the window again....
[/style] |
|
|
|
Post by JOHN STEVEN RHODES on Dec 5, 2012 1:42:34 GMT -5
[style=font-size: 20px; text-align: left; color:#007935; text-transform: uppercase;][style=font-size: 60px; float: left; margin-left: 25px; margin-top: -10px; line-height: 60px; ]W
e hear the call to carry on,[/style] we'll carry on. And though you're dead and gone, your memory will carry on, we'll carry on. And though you're broken and defeated, your weary widow marches on. ------------------------------ Despite the ache in his muscles, John was happy to be home... well, as close to home as he was going to get. Not only that, but John was lucky to be alive. Earlier that day, he thought for sure that he wouldn't see his little girl and wife ever again. Perhaps it was that thought that got him out alive. Out of all the raids John had been in, that had been the worst.
Slipping in through the front door, John was as quiet as possible, in case Evelyn was asleep. The young man was a sight to see. Having been up since the crack of dawn, dark circles loomed under his blue eyes and a drop of blood was running down from his nose. His body was adorned with a number of scratches and bruises, but nothing too serious. The front of John's white tee shirt was splattered with red and there were some tears in his jeans. Still, he was alive.
As he entered the kitchen, John slipped out of his black leather jacket, leaving footprints on the clean floor from his dirty boots. His hair was tousled from the wind and his face lightly flushed from the chilled air outside. "She sleeping?" he asked, dropping his jacket on the back of a chair before crossing the kitchen and grabbing a towel to hold against his bleeding nose.
When the group had returned to the safe haven, a number of people insisted that John should go to the medical center to be looked over, but he had refused. He was a persistent and determined man. The idea of going to the medical center for such minor wounds was just absurd to him. Looking down as he pressed to towel to his face, John could see that he not only left footprints all over the floor, but drops of blood as well. He would clean it up... after he sat down for a bit to rest his aching body. With a groan, he sank into one of the kitchen chairs.
For a moment, his eyes rested on his wife. There may have been stress in their marriage, but that didn't mean John didn't love the woman he married. He wouldn't have worked his ass off if he didn't and he sure as hell wouldn't have been risking his life the way he did. (402 words) (emma) (i haven't listened to mcr in forever) [/style]
|
|
|
Post by EMMA LOUISE RHODES on Dec 6, 2012 12:20:22 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][cs=2] | ONLY HANGING ON BY A THIN THREAD ----------------------------------------------------------
[style= overflow: auto; width: 220px; height: 275px; padding:5px; font-size: 13px; background-color: #0e0e0e; border: 5px solid #0e0e0e;]With a whirl of her curls, Emma turned her head to see her husband walking through into the kitchen. She hadn't even seen the dirt he tracked in at first, it was the mess he had on himself that she saw first. Her minty green eyes widened slightly and she opened her mouth to say something, but found no words. He was the first one to say something, and with her mind racing it took her a second to register his question. "Yes. She's been sleeping for an hour or so." She said, now looking to her clean floor and seeing the mud and blood that was now blemishing the clean floor. If this had been her home before the infected had taken over, she would have been a bit more angry, but the fact that she didn't know if he was going to come through the door alive or if she'd be seeing another man coming up to her doorstep to tell her the news of her husband she wasn't going to say anything about it.
Her eyes followed him as he grabbed a towel, she sighed and didn't know where to start. She watched him sink down into a chair and then looked up at her with the towel under his nose. She held his gaze for a moment, then she bit her lip and broke it, turning toward the laundry room where she kept the mop and bucket. She started filling it when she came back out into the kitchen and wet another cloth with warm water, her delicate hands squeezing out the excess water before approaching her husband. "Hold still.." She cooed, pulling his hand away from his nose gently before wiping his dirty face clean with the warm rag so she could see where the rest of his cuts were. She realized how noticeable the rings under his eyes were and she wanted to break down and tell him not to go back out anymore, she knew this would start and argument so she decided against it. She gave him the warm rag to hold under his nose and took his leather jacket and now dirty rag toward the washer. Pulling the bucket and mop out, she let it rest by the counter first and then she turned back toward him. She had stayed quiet about the subject, but it was slowly eating away at her. "I worry so much when your out there." Those words seemed to slice through the silence between them. Her eyes darted away and wouldn't meet her husbands.
She made her way over to the oven to boil some water for him. She planned to give him herbal tea to help him sleep. He looked like he needed it anyway. While she waited for what he had to say she played with her wedding ring, twisting it around her fingers and looking out the window....
[/style] |
|
|
|
Post by JOHN STEVEN RHODES on Dec 7, 2012 0:48:56 GMT -5
[style=font-size: 20px; text-align: left; color:#007935; text-transform: uppercase;][style=font-size: 60px; float: left; margin-left: 25px; margin-top: -10px; line-height: 60px; ]W
e hear the call to carry on,[/style] we'll carry on. And though you're dead and gone, your memory will carry on, we'll carry on. And though you're broken and defeated, your weary widow marches on. ------------------------------ John did as he was told and held still while his wife cleaned off his face. She was gentle and, for a moment, he allowed himself to relax. It had been so long since he had done even that. He had forgotten just how gentle her touch was along with the softness of her hands. That wasn't exactly something he could blame on the spreading virus. All too soon, she was gone and he was pressing the rag against his nose again. His eyes followed her as he let her slip away from him.
He wasn't expecting her to say this and, as she did, he looked away. "What do you expect me to do, Emma?" he asked, pulling the rag away from his nose. "Sit by and twiddle my thumbs when my family needs to be taken care of?" He was almost annoyed by her statement. Sure, all she had said was that she was worried, but he knew what was behind those simple words. They had been through all of it before. He didn't know what else he could do to convince Emma that he did what he did for her and the baby.
A drop of blood ran from his nose and, feeling it, he once again pressed the rag up to his face. "Em, you know I just want to take care of you and the baby. You don't need to worry about me."
John's nose had finally stopped bleeding and he got up, discarding of the bloody rag in the laundry room. He knew he must have sounded rather harsh when he snapped at his wife and, with a heavy sigh, he turned back to her and gently took her upper arms in his strong hands. "Look, you have nothing to worry about..." His blue eyes stared down at her, searching her expression. (402 words) (emma) (i haven't listened to mcr in forever) [/style]
|
|
|
Post by EMMA LOUISE RHODES on Dec 12, 2012 10:21:27 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][cs=2] | ONLY HANGING ON BY A THIN THREAD ----------------------------------------------------------
[style= overflow: auto; width: 220px; height: 275px; padding:5px; font-size: 13px; background-color: #0e0e0e; border: 5px solid #0e0e0e;]Emma clutched the mug she had ready for him and the water started to boil when he spoke. She parted his lips to speak, but he was then talking again, his tone exactly as she expected it. The only time her eyes met him was when she flicked them over toward him after he spoke about protecting his family. She felt that small bubbling of anger in her stomach, but she held it down. Letting out a small sigh she turned away from him when he stood up so she could get his tea ready without saying something she shouldn't. While he was ridding himself of the bloody towel, she had his tea resting on the table top and was biting her lip as she tried to even out her breathing.
He took her arm in his hands and she for once was frozen with a confused air about her. She wanted to cave in and hold onto him and not let him go until he had to leave the next time, but at the same time she wanted to drive the point home. It was one thing when he was working before the virus had spread, sure he was never around but at least she knew he would come home in one piece. Now, it was the same thing but she didn't know if he would come home alive or not. She felt the bubbling feeling again and she pulled away from his hands, instantly wishing she hadn't, but she wasn't agreeing with what he was saying at all. "You don't want me to worry about you?" She said, her minty green eyes flaring slightly. "You go out and come home more beaten down than the last time John. What's going to happen when you don't come home at all?" She said this with a lower tone, her face solemn. She looked at his face now, her frail frame met his tall sturdy one. "If you keep this up, you WILL die out there. Then what will you be protecting?" She said this with more venom than she ever though possible. Her eyes teared up slightly and she let out a shaky breath. "You can take care of us some other way, but please..." She swallowed and did her best not to let those tears fall down her cheeks, "Don't go back out there.". Even the thought of him going back outside the walls made her shake uncontrollably....
[/style] |
|
|
|
Post by JOHN STEVEN RHODES on Dec 13, 2012 2:54:57 GMT -5
[style=font-size: 20px; text-align: left; color:#007935; text-transform: uppercase;][style=font-size: 60px; float: left; margin-left: 25px; margin-top: -10px; line-height: 60px; ]W
e hear the call to carry on,[/style] we'll carry on. And though you're dead and gone, your memory will carry on, we'll carry on. And though you're broken and defeated, your weary widow marches on. ------------------------------ Frustrated, John twined his fingers together atop his head. He knew instantly, from the sound of her voice, what was coming. Something inside of him deflated as she spoke and he could see her fighting back tears. It tore his heart open to see her so... broken. "Em..." he said letting his hands fall. He stepped toward her, pulling her in close. He held her tight, his arms wrapping around her almost protectively. He wished he could hold her and never let go.
Taking in the smell of her hair and the feel of her body against his, he thought of what it would be like to lose her to one of those monsters. He wouldn't be able to bare it. "Every one of those... things... that falls gives us an even better chance at getting out of this mess alive." Stroking her hair, he pressed his lips against the top of her head. "If we could give Evie even the slightest chance of eventually having a normal life.. wouldn't you want to?"
Looking down at his wife, he lifted her chin so that she would look into his eyes. They gleamed with sincerity. "I can't promise that I won't go back out there Emma. I have to do it... for you and the baby. But will promise you that no matter what happens, I will do anything and everything within my power to come back to you in one piece."
Smiling softly, he kissed her on the forehead. "Do you trust me?" he asked her, feeling his heart tug the slightest bit. He would love to give in to her every demand... to just stay with her inside the gates forever, but life wasn't so simple or easy. (402 words) (emma) (i haven't listened to mcr in forever) [/style]
|
|
|
Post by EMMA LOUISE RHODES on Dec 13, 2012 10:49:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][cs=2] | ONLY HANGING ON BY A THIN THREAD ----------------------------------------------------------
[style= overflow: auto; width: 220px; height: 275px; padding:5px; font-size: 13px; background-color: #0e0e0e; border: 5px solid #0e0e0e;]Emma swallowed and her eyes darted away when he called to her. She wrapped her arms around herself and then he came to her. He always seemed to do that at the right time. He folded around her and fit like a puzzle piece and she closed her eyes, only a few tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. She pulled up her delicate hand to wipe them away while he spoke. She let out a shaky sigh, knowing she wasn't going to win the battle she wanted to win so badly. As much as she wanted it, and as much as she hated to admit he was right, he was. She felt as if she was loosing it in this small town. She wanted to be doing something, but instead was stuck inside the walls. Her green eyes opened to look down the hall at her daughter's room. She wasn't just doing nothing, she was caring for her daughter as well, but it didn't feel enough.
She allowed him to lift her chin and she stared directly into his face while he spoke. She thought about what he said and she looked away, calming down some what. "I trust you." She said in a small voice, blinking when she felt his lips on her forehead. Her hands came up to his chest and she let them sway for a few more seconds before she heard the familiar sounds of Evie's voice from her room. She took a deep breath and looked up to her husband, "Drink your tea." and with that she pulled away from him and slipped down the hallway..
Not more than a minute later the energetic little Evelyn came wobbling down the hallway. Emma followed behind her, but once the little girl caught sight of dad, she quickened her pace with a smile plastered on her face. She screeched daddy while Emma let the first real smile of the day wash over her. It lit up her features more than she could ever realize and she leaned against the arched doorway of the kitchen while she watched John and Evie.
[/style] |
|
|