Not On The Wheel (Bill Cipher x Reader)

Prologue: From The Ashes

"Please! Mom, please! Let me back in!" The small girl slammed her fists against the cabin door. Small splinters were breaking into her hands and arms as she desperately pushed herself against the door, trying to open it in vain. From inside the house, she could hear heavy and uncoordinated footsteps heading further away.

The winter wind ripped through her thin pajamas as loud sobs wracked her petite figure. She was shaking horribly; nearly hunched over as waterfalls of tears escaped sad puddles of light, streaming down a delicate face and dripping off her rounded cheeks. Bruises and scars littered her exposed arms and ankles. She sunk to the floor, her sobs quieting to little whimpers. Huddling into a ball, she brought her knees to her chest, trying to conserve any warmth between herself and thin clothes. She rested her cheek on her knees, tinted red by the harsh winds. Her hair was jet black; an ocean of dark waves falling over a warm tanned shore, where two tidal pools continued to leak salty tears. She angrily rubbed at her face, pulling her hair over her arms to drape over her in some sort of blanket.

From scattered strands of matted hair, she looked up to the sky, sniffling loudly. Through the glossiness of her eyes, she could barely make out the starry night.

She and her recently widowed mother resided in a small cabin surrounded by forest. It sat upon a large hill of green, with a large gravel path curving down to the main road. The foliage spanned for miles; the nearest town was maybe 20 minutes away by car— residential houses only a tiny bit closer. All the company the girl had were the towering trees and occasional squirrel or deer that wandered close to the small abode. And when she ventured little ways past the trees, she had a small pond filled with fish. Since they were so far from cities and towns, the sky always looked surreal, teeming with stars.

The tops of trees framed the night sky. Normally a pitch black, it was mixed with deep purples and dark blues; the hues mixing together to form something almost ethereal. Stars glittered: shimmering specs of light that often sparked hope within the small girl. But as another strong wind chilled her to her bones, the large flame of hope was slowly extinguished.

Another wave of salty tears boiled over as she sat on the porch. She tried to repress the strangled cry that bubbled in the back of her throat, almost embarrassed of her overflowing sadness.

"Oh, what do I do?" She asked softly, her voice low and sore. It wasn't the first time her drunk mother kicked her out of the house, but it was the first time she hadn't come back in at least 10 minutes.

She turned her eyes back to the sky, trying to find some comfort with the beautiful sight in front of her. "Dad," she croaked, another sob shaking her small figure. "What do I do? Why is Mom doing this?"

She looked to the sky as if waiting for an answer bestowed from the stars. Nothing was going to come from it— she knew that much— but she was desperate.

She shook violently, as a rather loud gust of wind tossed her hair from her arms. It was so harsh it garnered a few more tears from the girl's bleary eyes.

Her eyes were still trained on the sky, holding out for a sign of some sort. When her dog died a year earlier, her father had told her that he had joined the millions of twinkling lights in the sky. Her father surely was up there too, right? He was never far from his trusty dog; when he died he must have gone right up to look for him. The ghost of a smile tugged at her chapped lips at the thought; her father— or at least, the tall and warm figure she remembered as her father— running around the cosmos chasing after Jasper; tossing stars as frisbees and small meteors as balls.

A minute or so passed, and the girl considered trying to slam her feeble body against the door again when a shooting star caught her eyes. It lasted a second; in fact, she almost missed it. If she had blinked, it certainly would have passed her by. But her observant eyes quickly caught the small dying light dancing past its stationary brothers. To the girl, it was an answer: a potential wish that could come true.