Only Half Bad (ON HOLD)

The Past Haunts

"Kamski." A harsh voice hisses. My attention is drawn to it, eyes looking up from the coloring book in my hands.

"Mrs. Oliver?" A dark haired man spoke. His skin was as pale as a vampire I had seen on TV days before, his hair pulled back to show the shaven parts of it on either side. Under the white coat he wore was a dark toned shirt. It had a skull on it. I had asked him why he wore that shirt so much. He had answered with a 'because I feel like it.'

Beside him stood a women I knew very well, my mother. She was short and tan as could be. Dark hair fell over her shoulders in waves I loved to play with. As I couldn't play with my own hair, I had taken a liking to hers quit quickly.

"Do not Mrs. Oliver me! You told me her wounds would heal by now." My mother hisses once more, something she only seemed to do when Kamski was around. The taller man didn't seem to be bothered, however, as he bent down beside me.

His face breaks out in a smile, hand reaching for the page I had been coloring. A clipboard lay limp in his lap. Something always seemed to, anyway.

"What is this hm?" Kamski asks me softly. His eyes flicker to me, soft blue clashing against my own as he watched me closely. Kamski was always nice to me. Food was always a word away and any toy was just a yard. More than that, he always paid attention to me.

Mom had always sucked at that.

"It's us!" My voice was high pitched and excited, something faked down to the last accent at the end. Emotion had never been my strong suit. Kamski has assured me that would change in the coming weeks.

"Oh really?" Kamski chuckles, his thumb rubbing over the thin paper I had wasted ten minutes on. In the picture we're three people. Two were tall and red, eyes bright and health practically radiating even from the childish picture. Between them stood a purple figure. It was shorter than them, yet both red figures held onto it's hand seemingly happily. Each wore a large smile, at least.

"I'm not done with it yet!" I say with a smile, grabbing the paper and picking up a blue crayon. My small hand wraps around the small drawing utensil before scribbling in the back of the page with a vibrant blue.

"Oh, is that the sky?" Kamski asks softly. I could feel his eyes on me, watching every move I made.

"No." I chirp, the crayon skipping over a few places in the page. My hands were moving side to side clumsily. Yet even as they do they seem to have purpose. By the time I was done, well, Kamski could see the reason behind it.

Ingrained in the blue 'sky' were white letters. I had spaces out the white spaces perfectly, with precision. Now? You could clearly read words.

Create Jericho

"...It's amazing (Y/N)."

-
For a moment, it was peaceful. My eyes fluttered open to capture the moving sunlight against a glass window. Rain fell lightly down against the ground in silent pitter patters, shapes and blues of color blazing past in the background. The scene was beautiful and relaxing. No fear or confusion ran through me in that moment.

Even if for a moment, everything seemed alright.

However nothing like that ever seems to last.

"(Y/N)?" A familiar voice shocks me slightly, making me jump. I sit up from my spot leaning against the side of Hank's window. In front of me? Reality faces me head-on. Hank had a hand on the steering wheel, his head tilted up as he looked at me through the rear view mirror. He had been the one to speak. Concern was evident in the way he watches me closely.