❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ❞ - 𝗿. 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗻

chapter one: what the fuck john b

august 6, 2020

— THORA JACKSON HATED STORMS. no matter the kind. rain, snow, (although she never saw much of that) thunder, hurricane. she could live without them. and yes, she knew the whole "but they allow mother nature to balance out!" spiel. she didn't care.

it didn't help that this disliking was not easily avoidable for her. living in a shack where the roof and walls rattled when the wind blew a bit too hard made it quite hard for thora to block out the storms.

but as she grew up she settled into a system. close the windows, turn off the lights, tuck under the covers, and fantasize about a story where she lived lavishly until sleep overtook her for the day.

the after-effects of a storm were much more likable. the air seemed so much crisper the morning after a big rainstorm with the land still covered in lingering water droplets. the quiet while citizens were assessing the damage a bitch of a hurricane had done to their properties. the fish that come up to the surface after a lightning storm.

currently, thora was still trying to get through the storm itself. she knew it wasn't realistic to dislike something as natural as a rainstorm as much as she did, but nothing she did ever made the dislike ease.

huddled underneath her miles and miles of blankets, she watched the flame of her candle dance around as rain slammed onto the roof of her home. the more she stared, the more she felt her eyes drooping in exhaustion. slowly, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

⸻⸻⸻ 𓆉 ⸻⸻⸻

august 7, 2020

despite being one of the poorest people on the island, which on the cut that was saying something, thora seemed pretty well off after the storm. the rain had done minimal damage to her home, only knocking down a few rotting trees. 

after taking a walk through the neighborhoods, it was clear others were not so lucky. she passed mrs. sawyer, a widow who already had a tough time getting by, inspecting the side of her house.

"everything okay mrs. s? need any help?" she called out, stopping by the paint-chipped fence.

"oh, i'm okay dear. the rain seemed to have come down a bit too hard for this old thing s'all. feel free to stop by for some biscuits later," mrs. sawyer replied with a wave.

calling out a "will do!" thora continued making her way down to the convenience store. occasionally stopping to say hello to more of her neighbors. she was liked by others, her reputation of being kind and helping out despite her own conditions well known throughout the cut.

on figure eight though, where are the rich families lived, she was just another low-life pogue: scum of the earth.

drifting off as she made her way down the main street of the cut, she was cut out of her thoughts as a body slammed into her and knocked her off her feet.

"whoa!"

"what the fuck?" thora groaned as the male body, she now recognized, hastily tried to get off her. she found herself getting hauled back up and came face to face with john b routledge.

"shit, look, i'm really sorry i fell onto you like that jackson, that rope came out of nowhere. but i'm kinda on the run so as long as you're ok, i gotta go." he rushed out, looking to the side of her more than actually talking to her.

still confused on what the fuck just happened she jumbled out something of a "yeah i'm good. um sure yeah have fun with being a fugitive i guess."

with that, he quickly picked his bike back up and sped off. looking around, thora saw a few other people loitering around the street. most likely just as baffled as she was.

she guessed she shouldn't be that surprised though. john b, also somewhat known as the king of the pogues, was always off with his best friend jj getting into some sort of trouble. especially now that his dad was declared dead, he really had no one keeping an eye on him.

she could relate to that. the people of kildare never really cares what happens to those who live on the cut, and after her parents died in a boating accident four years ago, no one had gone to check on her living conditions at fifteen years old. her life stayed the same though, just trying to pay the bills except for the whole y'know dead parents thing. to be fair, she supposed, she had also lied to the sheriff after the funeral and said she had an older sister who helped her keep the house running.

but it was fine. she liked living alone, having no responsibilities besides showing up to work on time, and doing what she wants whenever she wants. it also meant no disagreements with how she wanted to decorate the house. not that she could afford many decorations.

after grabbing the few groceries she needed, thora headed back to the house. before getting ready for her work shift later that evening. she wasn't expecting the restaurant to be busy, as it usually never was after a storm, but she still needed to be punctual. which meant her chores to upkeep the house needed to be done before she left.

she also wanted to check out the rager john b and his friends were supposedly throwing later that night. though with the king of the pogues seemingly in deep shit, she didn't hold up much hope for the party. after an hour, she finally finished and got ready for her shift. closing the front door, she headed to the main cross between kooks and pogues on the island: the wreck.

— AUTHOR SPEAKS
- rafe and thora meet
cute next chapter???
- hope you enjoyed!🫶