Charlize Theron Imagines

Past and Present - Andromache

TW: Suicide, Homophobia

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1863: The American Civil War

"Y/n, get away from that.. that... monster." my father shouts, pushing Andy away from me. I look around, confused. Suddenly, two pairs of hands grab at my arms, and they start pulling my back. "No, what are you-" I try, my heart rate increasing. "You may have had our dear Y/n fooled with your boyish looks, but we know what you are, you homosexual. Stay away from our daughter with your sins." my father projects, spit particles glinting in the sunlight.

I try wrestle out of the hands holding me back. "Y/n, please. We're trying to help you." one of my brothers tells. I look behind me, still wriggling. "Help? How is this helping?" I cry. My father pushes Andy back again. "Get out of my sight, and stay away from Y/n's innocence, or I will kill you." he threatens. Andy's eyes meet mine. "No, no, Andy please." I beg. Andy nods. "I'm sorry, Y/n." she replies. She turns her back to us, to me, and begins to walk away. "Andy, please, don't go!" I shout, finally breaking from the grasp holding me away.

I sprint as fast as my legs can go, but my father grabs me. "Stop this madness, Y/n. She's a woman. Being with her would be a sin, and your mother and I will not allow it." he says. "Andy, I love you, come back!" I scream. Andy's steps don't falter as she continues away from me. I look at my father, tears leaking from my eyes. His frown softens and he pulls me into a hug. "I'm sorry, but I did what had to be done."

Glancing back in the direction Andy went, a sob escapes me as I notice she's gone. My mother walks to me, pulling me from my fathers arms and into hers. Tears continue to stream from my eyes as I bury my face into her shoulder. She strokes my hair, gently, not saying a word. I can feel my brothers' gazes on my back. My posture straightens as I break from my mothers embrace. Shakily, I take a deep breath. "Y/n, you have to understand-" my mother starts. I walk away.

Night falls and I don't shift from my position against the bedroom door. "Y/n, you must eat." one of my two brothers calls from the other side. I don't reply. He sighs. "I'll make sure mother leaves you bread and butter in case you decide to eat later tonight." More tears pool in my eyes. I push myself up, my back sliding against the rough wood of the door, and I start towards the window.

As I gaze out the grimy glass, a sense of dread washes over me. "I refuse to live like this." I think to myself. Reaching over to my bed, I grab my cloak, as well as a pair of boots. While I lace them, tears drop from my face. I sniffle and wipe my nose. I pry open the window and the chill, evening air causes goosebumps to race up my arms. I clamber onto the ledge outside, careful not to lose my footing. "Careful, Y/n." I whisper to myself as I close the window behind me.

I manage to, somewhat quietly and slightly painfully, drop myself to the ground. I grunt as I stand. Limping, I take off into the woods. The deeper I go, the darker it gets. A twig snaps to my left. I glance in the direction of the sound as I stumble to the right. My back hits a tree. I scramble away. "I should've brought a lantern." I say aloud. I reach into my pocket and my fingers curl around a box. I pull it out, confused, and open it. My fingers roam the inside. "Matches?" I think to myself, a relieved smile on my face. A strike one and it lights instantly. I sigh

I set fire to a small pile of dried leaves and twigs, as I work my best to create a torch. I stomp out the remainder of the fire, the torch now being my only source of lighting. I continue through the woods and the relief wears off, leaving me with the all-to-familiar sense of dread. Other than the sounds of my footsteps and the torch crackling, the sound of running water catches my attention. I look around but see nothing of the sort. I follow the sound, but it leads me to a ledge. I look down. Not a ledge, a cliff. A wave of panic hits me and I step back, but slip as I stand on a rounded rock. I lose all balance and tumble to the ground, clawing at the dirt, hoping to grab onto something. My fist closes around a root. I sigh, but drop the torch.