bury me face down ;

❛ - Ah, actually...❜ she began, but before she could articulate further, the bathroom door swung open with vigor. Dolores, having overheard the conversation, propelled herself from the sink, rushing to Elsie's side. There was no way she would permit her to sit anywhere near that man, and her approach was considerably less diplomatic than her sister Loo's.

❛ - Ah-ah! Elsie, my sweet, come with me. You and I have so much catching up to do, huh? ❜ Dolores declared, practically lifting the red-haired woman off the chair and enveloping her in a hug. She distracted Elsie with a flurry of hair strokes and compliments.

Elsie was secretly relieved at this intervention, responding willingly to prolong their conversation and to remain as distanced and detached from her father for as long as possible.

❛ - Gosh, Dol, you've gotten so...❜ Elsie began.

❛ - Big? Yeah, someone out here has to protect you little ones, eh? ❜ Dolores retorted jokingly, playfully nudging George's shoulder with her fist, an intensity only he could discern.

❛ – Aye! Aye, 'tis a great idea! ❜ said the Irishwoman, and ran to get another glass for Elsie.

❛ – Loo if ye bring her somethin' to drink the poor lass is gonna need an ambulance. ❜ added Dougal.

The discomfort in the air would continue even as Elsie was dragged off to sit on the opposite side of the table. She'd very frequently catch some distasteful looks George gave her. He made them out at random to make it invisible to most of the people there. But he was sure she could basically feel his stare.

As time passed and all of them were heavily intoxicated with the drops of alcohol and the taste of fun, it became more tense. And as soon as he noticed go to the bathroom, he would wait a few minutes, before going right after her.

No one seemed to notice, and that was good. Plus, they were so loud that it served only as more privacy for them to talk.

Dolores was leaned against the counter, her head swaying from the effects of alcohol.

❛ - Fuck, Jeez - Loo. I dinna' believe I got bested by a lassie!❜ she exclaimed, peeling herself off the counter and swaying towards the exit, holding onto the walls for support.

As she stood near the entrance, a tall, frail woman walked in, carrying a basket covered with a thin blanket to keep the baked pastries warm. It was Elsie, Mr. Sinclair's orphan daughter and Kiera's granddaughter.

Dolores stood frozen, unable to believe what she was witnessing. Elsie's unexpected presence was as surprising to her as hers was to them, thinking she was visiting her grandmother alone.

❛ - Ah, Auntie Dolores! I wasn't expecting to see you,❜ explained Elsie, embracing the large woman. Dolores, still shocked, gently pushed her away.

❛ - Uff--Hold on, Darling, I'm gonna be sick,❜ Dolores said while pushing Elsie away and hurrying to the bathroom, finding solace at the sink, even though the real drinking hadn't even started yet.

Elsie stood by the door, glancing back momentarily at her father. Her heart sank. It had been a while since they spoke, since that ill-fated trip together.

Walking past him with her head low in shame, she made her way to her grandmother's arms. Initially planning a longer visit, seeing him there made her decide to leave the gift and go.

Kiera turned around, happily reaching out to her eldest grandchild. Unaware of the unfolding events, only known by some of the siblings present there - Kiera was currently the happiest woman alive.

❛ - Sweetheart! Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better! ❜ Kiera exclaimed.

❛ - Ah, Gramms, I can't stay for too long. I've—❜ Elsie started, but Kiera interrupted, grabbing her hand and dragging her back to her father's side. Where time would halt again.

❛ - Stay for dinner, lovely! Look at the two of ya! Ya were always so pale, just like each other!❜ Kiera said playfully, pinching Elsie's nose and patting the man's shoulder before setting up two chairs for them side by side.

Unbeknownst to her, this was the same chair where a gruesome event unfolded many years ago when Elsie was just a little girl.

Uncomfortably, George decided to go along with it, and sat down. But at her given smile he couldn't respond with the same. In all honesty, he felt even worse now especially when he saw the uncomfortable stares of Dougal and Loo.

They knew.

He averted his eyes from Elsie and cleared his throat as he began to cut up the piece of meat on his plate.

❛ – Hello, Elsie. ❜

He said finally, but it was clear he wasn't open to a lot of conversation. But there wasn't any chance for it anyways-- because Loo had stood up the moment George spoke to her.

Going around the table, the auburn haired woman would lean in to Elsie's side, taking her by the hand.

❛ – Elsie, lass! Come sit with me, Dougal, and Angus, why don't ye? We're so happy to see ye! ❜

She said, wanting to take her away from her father. After what she told her that night, she had never been able to look at him the same. Elsie was one of the reasons she threw that damn curse in the first place. She would never tell her that, though.

❛ – Come, tha chicken's closer on this side of tha table. ❜

She played it naturally.

As much as George didn't want to be next to Elsie, he was very spiteful and had cleared his throat to catch Loo's and Elsie's attention.

❛ – I think you've interrupted us. She's happy where she is, aren't you, Elsie? ❜

Dolores nodded in agreement. Her chin pressed playfully against her chest, tongue bitten, while she nudged her sister with her shoulders, silently communicating that they had successfully kicked him out of the kitchen. This left the two alone to catch up and chit-chat without the interference of a menacing presence.

In the kitchen, Kiera, their mother, was already setting up the table. The old porcelain, adorned with beautiful, detailed flowers, clicked against the table as she arranged it. Keira had opted for her finest cutlery for such occasions. Not because it was her birthday – she had too many of those to celebrate each one – but because all of her kids had gathered. A rare moment that, though often turning bitter due to escalating fights, Kiera tried to control with small details like vintage plates. Hopefully, they were too pretty to be thrown across the room, as often happened when the O'Briens were drunk.

❛ - Ah, Darling, ❜

She called out to her older son, just before the entrance door creaked open behind her, catching her attention. It was her two other sons, born one after the other and closest in age, Dougal and Angus.

Angus, the shorter one, burst in first, already half drunk from their earlier celebration at the bar. His large steps brought him to his mother, where he wrapped his arms around her with a wide smile, planting a strong kiss on the side of her cheek.

❛ - Ma! ❜

He exclaimed with excitement, bending down to pick up the small red-haired boy from the floor and twirl him around playfully. As usual, George didn't even get a glance or any attention from him. It was as if he were a ghost in the room, someone everyone preferred to ignore.

❛ - Angus, dear, would you mind helping out with the plates? ❜ Kiera asked, handing him an array of unspotted plates, to which he obliged.

❛ - George, help your brother out, please. I'll go check on the girls! ❜

She squeaked with excitement, her broad smile evident as she passed George, pinching his shoulders on her way to the kitchen. This left the four brothers alone.

And for some odd reason-- he couldn't help but feel this was going to be the last family gathering he'd be attending.

He couldn't tell if this anxiety was from the expectations, or from the drug withdrawals he was experiencing, or from the pounding migraine against his temples. His doctor had been prescribing him pain medication with a higher dosage, and he was starting to feel the scary effects of addiction creeping up on him.

❛ – I ain't that lil' now. ❜ said Callum, who had grown to about 13 years of physical age now.

❛ – Then why're ye still so short? ❜ joked Dougal and had ruffled his hair as well.

❛ – I'm taller than you when you were my age. Mom said. ❜

❛ – Height isna important. 'Tis the size of yer balls, Callum. Ask tha' prick over there-- ❜ , he gestured to Angus playfully, ❛ – Man is the tallest in our family but still has no bollocks. ❜

Amongst the laughing and joking, George slipped away to go upstairs to the bathroom. He would remain there for quite some time and most likely until the other guests arrived as well. He had crushed up his medicine using his metro card and had snorted two of the pills to get a stronger effect. He's stopped swallowing them for a few months now, finding that snorting them was a much more effective technique. This clouded his senses and for the next fourty to fourty-five minutes he was completely stuck in the bathroom. His head felt heavy from the medication and the mixture of alcohol hence he couldn't instantly go down without fainting on the ground. Callum had gone to check on him, but was told he'd come down in a minute. And that minute turned into fourty-five.

And finally after he felt better he managed to finally go down where he would see other people had already seated themselves. By now his other brothers arrived as well. People he hadn't seen in a bit too long and people he didn't wish to see ever, in all honesty.

But out of respect for his mother, he walked down and sat besides her. He looked pale and sick, as he was, but had quickly reached to pour himself a glass of brandy to restore some color to his face. He could tell a fair amount of them were already drunk now. He wondered how much he'd missed while he was getting himself ready upstairs.

What he could see, however was that Loo seemed to be having a drinking contest with Dolores. There was two giant pints for each of them. And instead of beer it seemed to be filled with whiskey, or burbon. That seemed like a hazzard waiting to happen.

❛ – I hope Dol has enough money ta' refund yer bets. ❜

She nodded.

❛ - A lot of things you keep hidden from her would weigh on her heart too. Don't you agree? ❜

Dolores stated. Only the two of them knew the true meaning of that.

Her head perked up at the sound of heels tapping against the floor. It was indeed Loo, their sister. Although barely anyone, besides their mother, acknowledged George as part of the family. Dolores's grin once again shone brightly, deliberate footsteps dragging her large frame to the door, where she leaned with her broad shoulders. Arms released from their previously crossed position, inviting for an embrace.

❛ - Loo! My darling, ❜ she hummed with joy, peering back from her shoulder at the man behind her.

❛ - I was just teaching George, the almighty over here, how to cut a chicken. Crazy how spoiled people are nowadays, eh? ❜

And speak of the Devil, there was one of those people.

❛ – Ye keep getting bigger each time I see ye, ye need to cut it on tha' steroids, a ghrá. ❜

She joked with a laugh, but that would very quickly sour and as she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at not only the name but the familiar face behind them, seated with his pipe. And most importantly-- alive. She lived peacefully knowing that he had been under ground for over 13 years, so now she couldn't possibly riddle herself the fact that he was sitting there and breathing and existing. In truth, they had all kept his murder hushed, under cover, and enjoyed the very fact of it. Because just like Lewis was gone for good they had assumed he would be too, never to return.

❛ – Hello Lúnasa. ❜ said George coldly.

She didn't reply to him, but she looked to Dolores with concerned eyes. Why's he sitting there?

She had unresolved issues with him that included, of course, tormenting her child, being wrongfully sentenced to prison several times, being starved for decades on end because of England's greedy overtake of the agriculture, the death of her brother, the suffering of her sister, and so much more. During the suffragette times, it occurred to her just how deranged this man was when he'd attempted to assault her during her prison stay. She was saved by the fact that she'd bitten his hand and the fact that in that exact moment someone had passed their cell door, and had called upon him on an urgent matter. She wonders if the circumstances were different-- how would she have ever been able to live with herself.

❛ – Who invited ye? ❜ asked Loo.

❛ – I believe the same person that invited you. ❜ he replied.

She shook her head in disbelief and pursed her lips in frustration. She decided to bite her tongue this time, because she was about ready to make a mess here already. She looked to Dolores with a frown.

❛ – I'm going tha' get tha alcohol from tha cellar, a ghrá. See ye at tha table. ❜

Please sit next to me, her eyes conveyed, and without throwing him a second glance she would head out of the room and to occupy herself with something else until their brothers arrived as well. It was going to be uncomfortable sitting at the table with a "dead man", especially when it was important to keep quiet the entire time about what they'd all been through. That included George. He was biting his tongue about the most recent events as well.

After his pipe was out, he stood up.

❛ – Right then, I'll leave you to that. Seems you don't need my help here. ❜

She delicately rested the wooden carving on the table, her body's weight leaning against the edge of the stall, frustration palpable as her tongue explored the recesses of her mouth.

Her head tilted, forcing a venomous smile that curled the corners of her lips into a sinister grin as she faced him.

❛ - That's where the issue lies, you see, ❜

Dolores remarked, leaning forward to select a clean glass for herself and gracefully pouring the liquid into it.

❛ - You seem to believe I do what I do, ❜ she paused, taking a sip while locking eyes with him through the thickness of her furrowed brows,

❛ - To prove myself somehow. My worth, capabilities. I assume you do this because it's the way you see the world, havin' to prove your greatness, and assume others do too - I don't. ❜

She asserted, her voice resonating with confidence. Dolores' hand reached for the kitchen knife. The two of them were tasked by their mother to assist in the kitchen during the family reunion. Otherwise, Dolores found any conversation with this man utterly meaningless, had there been no need to.

The knife's blade sliced into the uncooked chicken. Several hours remained before the rest of their extensive family gathered for dinner, and despite appearances, Dolores, other than her mother, was the only woman in the house. Thus, it fell upon her to handle the cooking.

❛ - I dinna' find any meaning in finding myself in a book, praising me for a woman I am ultimately not," ❜

She continued,

❛ - For example, cleaning a chicken. Let's start with that. Do you know how to clean a chicken, George?" ❜

She asked with a sly grin, extending her hand to pass him the knife.

❛ - You are a man with great talents, are you not? I'm not doubting that. Let's see how you are with the basics of life. ❜

She stated, leaning back into the counter, taking another sip of her drink before folding her arms into a cross, observing him.

❛ - Then maybe my name can get in the books. As a sister who taught the great how to prepare a meal. ❜

❛ – My talents do not lie in the pursuits traditionally deemed suitable for women... I assume that's why mama called upon you to do it. ❜

He argued as he backed away from the counter, and sat himself down in the chair opposite of the counter where she worked.

Unlike Dolores and all of the other siblings that were arriving today, he hadn't cooked since the Roman Empire. And even then he was tasked with much simpler foods that for today's standards were not acceptable as full course meals. So-- no-- he didn't know how to clean a chicken, nor how to cut it, nor how long it should be in the oven.

❛ – I've told that woman to hire someone around here but she never seems to listen. She's getting too old for that backwards attitude. ❜

He clicked his tongue as he attempted to change the subject from his cooking abilities, or his lack of life skills in general, therefore. He was an amazing military man, he was great at chess, academics, he knew the Bible with his eyes closed. He knew the first 100 numbers of pi by heart. He could recite you the entire periodic table. He's read more books than he can recall. But the basics of making his bed, dressing himself, cleaning his own house, making his own food, and even shopping, was far away from his calibre.

Even as the new age dawned on them, and the 21st century was at their doorsteps, he believed the importance of servants and gendered roles around the house. Then again, none of his wives did have to cook. They were as much served as he was.

❛ – Mark me, Dolores, ❜

He drank the rest of the drink and now focused on filling his pipe with nicotine. ❛ – I'd appreciate if we kept this communication to a minimum. I'm only here today because of that woman's birthday-- not to make amends with you people. I've decided to keep quiet about what you've done. I think it would afflict her tender heart to know the reason behind my absence. However, let not my silence give you the idea that I've excused what you've done. I hope it weighs heavy on you. ❜

“why do you have that look on your face?”

“finish what you’re doing, we have to talk.”

“what have you done to yourself?”

“did you do something different with your hair?”

“it doesn’t do any good to get worked up.”

“when was the last time we had a real conversation.”

“are you in the witness protection program, or what?”

“there’s something wrong with me.”

“no, i don’t hate you.”

“hey stupid.”

“we’re aren’t them.”

“looks like i’ll live long enough to make you pay.”

“you know you’re wrong.”

“i don’t understand, why are you doing this?”

“now, before i say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm.”

“what makes me so special?”

“you have no idea what i’ve been through.”

“you really don’t have to do that, not for me.”

“did you really think you’d get a second chance?”

“how about we don’t do that.”

“i have a lot going for me, but humility is not one of them.”

“you’re the worst.”

“i don’t need you right now.”

“don’t just stand there, looking at me.”

“i thought you were supposed to call me.”

“take my hand.”

“i need you.”

“you’re allowed to need help sometimes.”

“for someone who doesn’t like to feel things, you sure feel a lot of it out loud.”

“when this is all over, i want it to be you and me.”

“why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“you don’t know what this means to me.

“i know it doesn’t make sense.”

“i’m trying really hard to keep it together.”

“i know you’re new, but we do things a little differently here.”

“your voice is putting me to sleep.”

“did you find what you were looking for?”

“you knew and you didn’t even warn me?”

“well, i guess that’s broken.”

“i thought it was part of the act.”

“you think u don’t know you’re only here because they sent you?”

“you promised to call me if you didn’t know what to wear.”

“you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

“how could you do this to me?”

“put the gun down, dearest. i have news!”

“i know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but you need to know something.”

“if you’re here to tell me what happened last night, someone beat you to it.”

“people think i’m weird.”

“i think i’m losing myself again.”

“you can’t be here.”

“i wish you’d come to the funeral.”

“do you know what today is?”

“so, you broke my favourite mug… and you’re breaking up with me?”

“i need to get out.”

“it’s like i’m cursed or something.”

“you are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?”

“you gonna eat that?”

“sir, the pony rides are for children only.”

“i don’t want you to worry about that anymore.”

“we’ll never make it in time.”

“you’d be late for your own funeral.”

“you should have seen it coming.”

“oh, good, you’re here! hold this.”

“why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?”

“is this how you flirt with everyone?”

“how much longer till we’re there?”

“what have you done?”

“it’s time for you to repay that debt you owe me.”

“where did you get that? who gave it to you?”

“what kind of mother has thoughts like that?”

“i know I haven’t been what you needed, but i’m here, and i wanna help.”

“i never want to hear you say that again.”

“you’re all i have.”

“i know it’s not perfect, but i did follow the recipe this time.”

“i was doing so well until you showed up.”

“don’t eat that! i made it ‘specially for our guest.”

“it’s not that i don’t like my life, it’s that i don’t have the energy to enjoy it.”

“how can you stand this place?”

“don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”

“you need to stop.”

“i don’t like that look, what happened?”

“is that seriously your password?”

“what’s your problem?”

“you had no right to use it without asking.”

“oh, wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“i couldn’t trust my own parents to protect me.”

“i’m surprised you haven’t been arrested yet. wait, no, i’m not.”

“why do you want to help me?”

“ten bucks for that piece of crap?”

“we have to hurry, they’re coming!”

“hey, look what came in the mail!”

“do you want to get a drink or something?”

“please tell me you didn’t eat that.”

“the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

“if i wanted help, i would have asked.”

“wanna tell me what’s going on with your grades?”

“you need to leave.”

“talk to me, okay? i need to know what’s going on.”

“i do blame you.”

“sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.”

“you’re no longer useful to me.”

a hall of hushed prayers and whispered hymns

❛  how could you do that? i thought we were friends!  ❜ ❛  the world would be a better place without you in it.  ❜ ❛  don't even think about trying to beg for forgiveness.  ❜ ❛  do you have any idea how much harm you've caused?  ❜ ❛  i don't ever want to see your face again!  ❜ ❛  i promise you i'm going to make your life a living hell.  ❜ ❛  the others may be able to ignore the past, but i surely won't.  ❜ ❛  if you ever hurt them, i swear, i won't hesitate to punch you.  ❜ ❛  don't even try and act friendly with me.  ❜ ❛  that's not a threat. it's a promise.  ❜ ❛  i'm not the same helpless little girl i used to be. now i can finally defend myself against you.  ❜ ❛  you lay one hand on me and it'll be the last thing you ever do.  ❜ ❛  it's about time you finally get what's been coming to you for years.  ❜ ❛  actually, you're not as bad as people say. you are so much worse.  ❜ ❛  tell me one good reason why i should believe anything you say.  ❜ ❛  oh look, it's the useless one again.  ❜ ❛  i'm glad to see you're not letting your education get in the way of your ignorance.  ❜ ❛  how anyone can stand being in the same room as you is beyond me.  ❜ ❛  that's a low blow. even for you.  ❜ ❛  unless you want to end up with my fist in your face, i'd rather shut my mouth.  ❜ ❛  i wish i could be there when you finally get what's coming to you.  ❜ ❛  i wish you'd never been born!  ❜ ❛  fuck you! this is all your fault!  ❜ ❛  have you lost your mind?!  ❜ ❛  you betrayed us and still you think you can think you can just waltz back in here like nothing ever happened?  ❜ ❛  no! i've had enough with you. go to hell!  ❜ ❛  i want you to go and never come back. and if you do, i promise you'll regret it.  ❜ ❛  do you have another clever idea to get us killed?  ❜ ❛  name one good reason why i shouldn't hurt you right now.  ❜ ❛  next time we see each other i won't be so nice.  ❜ ❛  is this supposed to scare me?  ❜ ❛  i can't believe i ever trusted you ...  ❜ ❛  you should have killed me when you had the chance.  ❜ ❛  come any closer and you'll regret it.  ❜ ❛  you may win this time ... but i will get my revenge sooner or later.  ❜ ❛  are you threatening me?  ❜ ❛  and you can go to hell for all i care.  ❜ ❛  lay one hand on them and i'll make sure you won't ever be able to lay a hand on anyone ever again.  ❜ ❛  i'm not your friend! i never was, i never will be.  ❜ ❛  i'll make you regret the day you were born.  ❜

“ am i not good enough? ”  

“ you’ve been so quiet. what’s on your mind? ”  

“ why did you help me? ”  

“ who do you fight for? ”  

“ why do you hate me? ”  

“ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ”  

“ you’re not dating anyone, are you? ”  

“ i’ve got your back, okay? ”  

“ where do you think you’re going? ”  

“ how long have i been asleep? ”  

“ are you going to kill me? ”  

“ why can’t i come with you? ”  

“ we all have secrets, don’t we? ”  

“ did you want to be alone? ”  

“ why should i trust you? ”  

“ wait. did you hear that? ”  

“ promise me? ”  

“ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ”  

“ do you remember anything at all? ”  

“ what? no witty remark? nothing clever to say? ”  

“ you wanna know what your problem is? ”  

“ may i have this dance? ”  

“ can i ask… what happened? ”  

“ how many people have you killed? how many? ”  

“ do you ever hear yourself? ”  

“ would you run away with me? ”  

“ could you be happy here with me? ”  

“ you can’t or you won’t? ”  

“ you slept with them, didn’t you? ”  

“ well, how do i look? ”  

“ after all you’ve done how can i possibly trust you? ”  

“ why can’t you let me in? what are you so afraid of? ”  

“ what did they do to you? ”  

“ so why’s it so important anyway? ”  

“ where have you been? ”  

“ why are you looking at me like that? ”  

“ why did you come? ”  

“ what are you doing out here by yourself? ”  

“ is… that my shirt you’re wearing? ”  

“ you… don’t like me very much, do you? ”  

“ why does it always have to be a fight with you? ”

“ why can’t you look me in the eye? ”  

“ can you forgive me? ”  

“ what if i never see you again? ”  

“ you were going to leave without saying goodbye? ”  

“ how about a little midnight snack? ”  

“ are you… smelling me? ”  

“ how did you get this scar? ”  

“ what do you want in exchange for it? ”  

source unknown