As a follow-up to yesterday's drabble, I present Judith's side of the story. It's about as depressing as you can imagine, the missed chances. I'm going to go have a good cry now.Title:
Illusion (A follow-up to Card
Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter (master list here
Judith, Anitafanfic100 Prompt:
99 -- Writer's ChoiceWord Count:
Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Only the story is my own.Rating:
Set immediately before Card
. Judith thinks about her nine-year-old stepdaughter, Anita, on Mother's Day. (Just assume that Paul is Anita's father's name)~~*~~
It was Mother's Day, the second since Judith had married Paul, and she didn't know how she was going to survive it.
When she had accepted Paul's marriage proposal, two years after his first wife's unfortunate death, she had been so excited. Andrea would finally have a sister, and she'd have another daughter, little Anita.
That delusion hadn't lasted long. Andrea started showing off immediately. Judith knew it was because she was scared of the new situation, but Anita didn't react well to her new step-sister. At all. She'd withdrawn immediately, pulled back from her father, becoming secretive, sullen.
No, not sullen, Judith corrected. There was a strange stillness about the girl some days, something Judith couldn't explain. It was almost frightening.
Then the stillness left, and Anita went back to being her tiny, quiet self.
Any way Judith looked at it, there was no way Anita would let Judith into her heart.
Overhead, two sets of footsteps pounded down the stairs as Judith came to a decision. She'd tried for two years, putting herself out there and having every advance refused. Maybe it was time to give up the illusion of having another daughter. She'd never be Anita's mother.~~*~~
And while I'm at it, my first offering for firefly100
Joss Whedon et al. own all things Firefly. Only the story is my own.Rating:
Set after the BDM, no real spoilers.~~*~~
River was better now.
People came and went, with whispering eyes and dancing tongues, and River alone remained untouched.
She heard things, strange things, from all the people Serenity touched. Their secrets wandered through her head, like she wandered through the ship, never getting too close. If one touches the fire, it burns, and all her secrets would burn like ash up to heaven.
Simon worried when she tried to explain, so she stopped, stopped talking, stopped dancing, stopped everything. She hoarded her secrets to her breast like a lover, waiting to be left alone.
Secrets never left her alone.