AlisaMarie24

Someone is coming home! Quentin thought as a plane flew by his window as he sat on the window sill which was oddly covered in bars. Well, not oddly, odd that they have to do that but not odd that they decided that, in a building full of insane and suicidal people coming in and out, they thought that putting bars on all the windows was a good idea. It was part of a cycle for him at this point. He would feel very depressed and instead of talking to someone about it, he would go to the nearest mental hospital, he’d stay the weekend, tell them that he feels fine and that he has never been a threat to anyone or himself, then he goes home and to normal life. Wash, rinse, and repeat. His experience with it all was like when pregnant women complain about being pregnant and then soon after the child is born they say it was the best experience ever and want another. Quentin hated it when he was there but longed for the structure and certainty of the hospital. He hated being there, when he was

It was another day that we had woken up before the sun had. It has only been till recently that we had. Mom started to seem frantic in “training” me, like we were losing time. Those were the days we worked from sunup to sundown. Thankfully Stan would bring us food, well I assumed. I was constantly centering and reading the ephemeris, which I swear was fading more and more somehow. “What do you see?” She asked, never an uncommon phrase whenever we finished decoding the last thing I saw. “Nothing. It is still nothing.” I said, which we common response from me. “Look at the stars-” “I know. There is nothing!” “Do the constellations look right?” “I-I don’t know!” I said and uncentered, rubbing my head. “Rhoma, you need to know that! If you want to be a good seer you must.” “What if I don’t want to? What if I want to be like Dad and farm Narclams the rest of my life?” “Rhoma, that won't happen.” “You can’t choose my life.” “But the stars have.” “And what did they, Mom?” “I can’t-” “Say?

Everyone was there, every single one of them. Well, almost. He felt the void before he knew it. “Where's Q?” Eliot said. He somehow was able to form words before he was able to open his eyes. Quinten was there, just not the way he could see him. Penny 40 did him some favours before he left, He watched Eliot wake up, he saw the tribute and everything between. Then he walked through his life one last time, memory after memory, good and bad flashed around him. Then a doorway appeared, his happy place. “Okay, here is the plan” Eliot started, “For what?” Margo asked. “I was going to get Q back,” “Honey, Quinten is dead.” “Not with this!” he said, handing her a couple pieces of paper. “This is a spell for a golem.” “And the next one is-” “A suspension spell that grants someone immortality for a while. That would have been helpful a couple of times. What does all of this have to do with anything?” “Since Q doesn't have a body, we make a golem. Then I travel to the underworld and retrieve

“This fucking game!” Arin yelled as he mashed buttons on the controller. “Try and calm down.” I said, “It is just a game, and you have made so much progress!” “Just a game?” Arin mocked. He died another time. In a fit of rage he stood up “I am fucking done with this game!” he yelled and threw the controller. I cuddled into the blanket that was wrapped around me. “Please don’t use the belt, sir.” I whimpered as an almost immediate response to Arin’s obvious anger. I didn't even realize i said it until a second later. Arin looked back at me, a little confused, no longer angry, more concerned. “What?” he asked, obviously wanting me to clarify what he heard. “What?” I said. “I didn’t say anything.” I lied. “Are you sure?” He asked and i nodded. “Okay. Let’s not play this game for a while, okay?” “Well, if you want to it’s okay.” “Let’s eat some lunch before we do that, okay?” Arin suggested and I nodded in agreement. 🎤 “Dan, go to bed.” Arin said and i sat up. “Do i really have to, sir?”