Roses and Shadows a DreamTale Frisk x Nightmare! Sans

Chapter 1

Frisk

(warning: contains abuse, bullying and harassment. Read at own risk)

I shivered, pulling my scrap of a blanket closer in a poor attempt to ward of the cold that tried vainly to sap my limited strength. From my position in the back corner of the room, I had perfect view of the wooden door across from me. A crash shattered the silence from somewhere deeper in the building, making me jump. The man of the house was home. I debated trying to hide, but I knew it was useless. I shivered, trying to make myself smaller, wishing I could just slip into the shadows and disappear. I watched in horror as the tarnished gold knob of the door slowly turned, dim light crept into my room. A tall shadow loomed, cutting through the orange, flickering light like a black knife, something that you would think to be out of a horror movie. I shrank into myself, no longer feeling the bite of the cold. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. Fear I duly noted. It was the same story, every night. The smell of sweat and booze, soon mixed with the copper tang of blood. Beating, starving, insults and little sleep. A bronze bottle gleamed and sparkled, followed by a thick, meaty, scarred hand. Attached to the hand was an arm clad in a worn, light blue jumpsuit. Heavy black boots hit the ground with a heavy thump, a light layer of dust rising from the impact. I didn't dare look up, keeping my eyes trained on the worn leather toes of the shoes. On the hand that gripped the half empty beer bottle with such force his knuckles were white. He came to a stop a few feet from me, the silence hanging in the air like a weighted net, only making me feel like I was drowning. I wished that it was over already. Slowly, his knees bent, and his torso came into view, along with his chin that was covered in a few scraggly hairs. The worn name tag on the left half of his threadbare uniform read Jack in bold, red, curly letters. He crouched in front of me, and I could feel his cold gaze raking over me. Digging into me. A huff of breath that shifted through my short, messy hair before he hauled himself back up. "Useless." He spat down at me, his iron gaze never faltering. Before I could react or prepare myself, he kicked me square in the jaw. My head snapped back, and I slumped to the ground. "Pathetic." He hissed, kicking me again in the side. I barley contained a whimper, squeezing my eyes shut and willing my tears to go away. "Ugly." He snapped, before lifting the bottle up to his mouth. I pushed myself up slightly, but his hand fisted in my hair, hauling me up, forcing me to look at him. Blue bell eyes stared at me, but there was nothing beautiful about them. Loathing and despise was all I could see. His strong jaw jutted out as he looked me over. "Fat. Selfish. Waste of money." He shook me. My frail hands shooting up to claw at his wrist, his hand. "Weak." He spat, tossing me back into my corner like I weighed nothing more than a doll. I probably didn't. "It's all your fault!" He roared. "She would still be here! I wouldn't have to care for your useless miserable excuse of your existence!" Spit flew from his mouth as he rained blows down on my back, head, arms, stomach, sides. Anywhere he could hit. I groaned slightly, blood trickling down my lip. He talked of my mother, who died giving birth to me. "Go clean yourself up. You have school tomorrow." He growled, storming out and slamming the door. I staggered to my feet, silently hobbling over and opening the door. I walked down the hall and into the bathroom, turning on the shower. Freezing water met my fingertips, so I undressed and climbed in, only taking the time to make myself seem presentable. I was out quickly, dripping wet. I used my old clothes as a towel before putting them back on and heading to my room. I took off my clothes and folded them up, putting them in my drawer, pulling out my thin sleeping tee shirt and fraying leggings and slipping them on. I grabbed my blanket and slipped out my small window, sliding down the wall until my bare feet hit the ground. I walked silently through the night, through the mostly empty streets until I reached the park in the center of town. Hunger raved in my stomach, but I ignored it as I walked down the dimly lit paths of the park until I reached the center. There it was. A huge oak tree, standing tall and proud in the night. One side had beautiful light green leaves that never fell, and a strong, sturdy trunk. It's branches held huge, ripe golden apples. The other side was leafless, dark, burned looking and sad. It's bare branches held black apples that seemed just... wrong. Quietly I went to the black, dark side of the tree and climbed up until I reached my spot. A branch so thick that I could comfortably lay down and have little fear of rolling off. I curled up, a small smile on my face as I tucked my arm beneath my head and gazed at the stars. I slipped into a deep sleep, dreams nothing but a word in my vocabulary.

A warm, gentle breeze woke me. Dawn was just barley creeping over the horizon, and the town was still silent. A small smile blossomed on my face as I gazed at the area surrounding me, before I lifted my blanket and got onto my knees. I reached below me, searching for a minute before drawing my hand back. In my grasp was a black sketchbook and a dark violet drawstring bag of colored pencils. I opened the bag and drew out three pencils of the colors I needed, before flipping through the page of vibrant color and pictures that seemed to be alive on the pages. I stopped at the unfinished tree. It was the very tree I sat on that covered the page, but I just couldn't get the light side to look right! I frowned slightly. I knew the dark side like the back of my hand. I knew every nook and cranny, but I barley ever even touched the light side, and it didn't look right. I frowned and chewed on the end of a golden colored pencil as I thought. I erased a part and redrew it, but still felt unhappy. With a huff I closed the book and tucked it back into its hiding spot before grabbing my blanket and climbing down. People were just starting to emerge from houses and buildings, so I quickened my pace, my bare feet slapping against the sidewalk. I scrambled over my windowsill and dropped to the ground quietly, quickly taking off my clothes and changing into a long sleeve black shirt and a pair of light blue jean shorts. On quiet footsteps I ran out to the kitchen and started preparing a simple breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and coffee for the man of the house. I rarely let myself call him a father, because he sure didn't act like a father. I heard his heavy footsteps down the hall, so I hurried up, placing the toast and eggs on a plate while the bacon finished cooking. He slid into his chair with a thump and a sigh, making me flinch slightly. I poured a cup of coffee and silently passed it to him, along with his plate and three painkillers. Grabbing my backpack and slipping on my old blue tennis shoes, I prepared to leave, but when I went to walk away he grabbed me by the elbow. "What's our rule?" He demanded. I swallowed nervously. "What happens in the house, stays in the house." I said quietly. "Good. And before you go, remember. You run, I will always find you." He growled. Fear tightened around my throat like an invisible noose, and I nodded quickly, bracing myself for any blow he would rain upon me. But he just let me go and turned back to his breakfast. I scurried out the door, relief flowing through me. 

Enjoy! Bye bye for now! ~ OpalPheonix ♡