(AS OF JUNE 2020, I'm only here to cross-post my works and boost my commissions. For immediate contact, I can be found as @iatetheramen almost anywhere.-- PLEASE contact me if you want your triggers tagged! - - 25. Bay Area, CA. Future veterinarian. Musician. AAR, FOB, MCR, ATL, ADTR, Dethklok, SPG, etc. Into anime, science, animals, otome, and a handful of other random stuff.
I will be permanently leaving Tumblr and deleting this blog on September 2, 2021 due to irreconcilable feelings about Tumblrâs rules regarding NSFW content, among other grievances about the website. For any questions, please feel free to contact me!
If youâd like to stay connected on any other social media -- Twitter, Reddit, Discord, Pillowfort, literally anything except FB -- feel free to send a DM! I really love anime, science, pop punk bands who peaked in the 2000s, fandom, and books.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
You can see it. Itâs lurking right below the waterâs surface, but itâs too dark to tell what it is.Â
Its swimming pattern is just a tactic meant to confuse you, and yet you fall for it every time. As always, you take your chances and haphazardly cast your line.
Damn, way too far off the mark.
You reel back in and cast again, this time landing in the perfect spot.
Before you know it, the creature is drawn in. You can see it testing out the bobber, regardless of the fact that you have no lure or bait. You hold your breath, waiting for the silhouette to believe that thereâs nothing to fear.Â
Suddenly, your bobber plunges below the water. Thereâs no time to waste on playing with this catch. With no hook at all, you wrestle to get the beast out of the water. The two of you struggle back and forth, but the splashing signals that youâve already won the fight.
In one swift move, you yank on your rod and reach out to catch the unknown creature. The rod snaps in two, but it just might be worth it. When your catch plops into your hand, your eyes widen and your heart races. Curses are desperate to spill from your lips. You can only force a sarcastic smile to hide what youâre truly feeling -- sheer horror, anguish, and convoluted hatred. The color drains from your face, unlike the cheerful pastel hues of your catch.
You fall for it every time.
Thatâs an egg, not a fish...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Â
A/N: This ficlet was written out of a desperate need to create in the middle of hard times. I hope you can all enjoy it for what it is. This work has been cross-posted over a variety of websites under the authorâs username. The cover image used was specifically created for this work by nezmakesart. Please feel to leave feedback/criticism here or on a  site of your choosing.
Fun fact: If my younger sister was in a car accident and desperately needed a blood transfusion to live, and I was the only person on Earth who could donate blood to save her, and even though donating blood is a relatively easy, safe, and quick procedure no one can force me to give blood. Yes, even to save the life of a fully grown person, it would be ILLEGAL to FORCE me to donate blood if I didnât want to.
See, we have this concept called âbodily autonomy.â Itâs thisâŚ.cultural notion that a personâs control over their own body is above all important and must not be infringed upon.Â
Like, we canât even take LIFE SAVING organs from CORPSES unless the person whose corpse it is gave consent before their death. Even corpses get bodily autonomy.Â
To tell people that they MUST sacrifice their bodily autonomy for 9 months against their will in an incredibly expensive, invasive, difficult process to save what YOU view as another human life (a debatable claim in the early stages of pregnancy when the VAST majority of abortions are performed) is desperately unethical. You canât even ask people to sacrifice bodily autonomy to give up organs they arenât using anymore after they have died.Â
Youâre asking people who can become pregnant to accept less bodily autonomy than we grant to dead bodies.Â
But, assuming the mother wasnât raped, the choice to HAVE a baby and risk sacrificing their âbodily autonomyâ is a choice that the mother made. YOu donât have to have sex with someone. Cases of rape aside, it isnât ethical to say abortion is justified. The unborn baby has rights, too.Â
First point: Bodily autonomy can be preserved, even if another life is dependent on it. See again the example about the blood donation.Â
And hereâs another point: When you say that ârape is the exceptionâ you betray something FUNDAMENTALLY BROKEN about your own argument.
Because a fetus produced from sexual assault is biologically NO DIFFERENT than a fetus produced from consensual sex. No difference at all.
If one is alive, so is the other. If one is a person, so is the other. If one has a soul, then so does the other. If one is a little blessing that happened for a reason and must be protected, then so is the other.Â
When you say that âRape is the exceptionâ what you betray is this: It isnât about a life. This isnât about the little soul sitting inside some personâs womb, because if it was you wouldnât care about HOW it got there, only that it is a little life that needs protecting.
When you say ârape is the exceptionâ what you say is this: You are treating pregnancy as a punishment. You are PUNISHING people who have had CONSENSUAL SEX but donât want to go through a pregnancy. People who DARED to have consensual sex without the goal of procreation in mind, and this is their âconsequence.âÂ
From my teenage years into my mid-20s, you haven't left my side, no matter how much I change. I never have to pretend to be someone else when I'm with you, even when I forget to take my Lactaid. Thank you for these past seven years, Porter.â I STILL don't know why you choose to stay, but I'm tired of trying to figure it out. I'll chalk it up to us being gross together. đđ¨â â #breadiful https://www.instagram.com/p/B3ta3oyJOpR/?igshid=l2cavnxbkc8k
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
When Hunk gets homesick, he tries to recreate his motherâs banana cake, but itâs not at all turning out the way he planned. What is it that made his momâs cooking so special? Is there anything Pidge can do to help?
Rated: G; fluff, friendship, and romance
Set approx. the same time as S8E7. Please beware potential spoilers! (The cover image used was specifically created for this work by nezmakesart.)
A/N, intro: This work has been cross-posted over a variety of websites under the authorâs username. Please feel to leave feedback/criticism here or on a site of your choosing.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Blegh.
Hunk couldnât stop himself from spitting up the food into his napkin. Despite his best efforts, he didnât understand what was going wrong. Banana cake, completely devoid of any alien ingredients, shouldnât have been difficult to make. The three full baking pans sitting on his kitchen counter proved otherwise. If anyone took a taste from a pan at random, they would most likely comment on the tastiness of the dish. But it wasnât good enough for Hunk.
He tried everything. Normally, he would cook by eyeballing his measurements, but it came out wrong. He then tried following the recipe to the T, modifying it by using alternate ingredients, and even checking the expiration dates on the packaging. The cakes just didnât taste the way his mother used to make them.
It was the middle of the night, and all he wanted was to indulge himself in a comforting snack. He was in the middle of planning his fourth attempt  -- substituting papaya for banana -- when a woosh from the door interrupted his concentration.
âYou couldnât sleep either, huh?â Pidge stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a plastic cup from the cabinet.
âKinda,â Hunk said. He untied his apron and tossed it onto the counter. âAs soon as I got into bed, a little homesickness hit me. I thought that whipping out one of my family recipes would help me feel better. Itâs not really working the way I planned, though.â Defeated, he sank into a nearby chair. âWhat about you? What kept you up?â
The smaller paladin began filling her cup with a bit of water. âI actually went to bed a few hours ago, but then I woke up and couldnât get back to sleep.â She finished the drink in a few gulps. âI was thinking of getting some work done, but figured that my mind needed just as much rest as my body. I started wandering around and heard something happening in the cafeteria. Now, here we are.â Pidge pointed at the counter, and with Hunkâs nod of approval, hopped up to sit on it.
âWell, at least your brain gets to take a break,â Hunk said. âIâm overworking mine just trying to figure this stuff out.â
âHmm⌠Not that I doubt your culinary skills, but maybe you could use another set of eyes?â Pidge picked up a whisk and scrutinized it as if it were an ancient tool unearthed from an archaeological dig. âWhenever something isnât working out for me, I always ask Matt or Dad for help.â She took a look around at the used bowls and utensils.
As far as Hunk knew, he had nothing to lose. He shrugged his shoulders and playfully smirked. âSure, why not? Couldnât hurt to try!â
In a surprisingly quick agreement for sleep-deprived teenagers, they set to work.
Pidgeâs first thought was to wonder why Hunk didnât just inject banana bits into a loaf of bread. She then assumed that there was no difference between banana bread and banana cake. At this point, Hunk decided to give her simpler tasks like mixing and measuring. It wouldnât be until later when Pidge would admit that her only successful cooking experience amounted to boiling a pot of water.
They read the recipe together, both taking their time and keeping a serious attitude. Every action one person made was announced out loud for the other to verify that it was correct. Pidge was disappointed that she couldnât be of more help, but the repeating motions of her tasks put her in a meditative state. Hunk was as present as ever, allowing himself to be vulnerable by again following the preparation instructions exactly as they were written.
More than two hours later, the frosted cake was chilling on a shelf in the walk-in refrigerator. It would take at least another half an hour for the frosting to set.
Hunk wiped his brow with the back of his hand. âThanks for helping me out! I really -- geez, you look exhausted.â
The excitement from baking had finally subsided, and Pidgeâs fatigue punctuated its presence with a yawn.
âYou can head to bed if you want,â Hunk assured, âIâll let you know how it turns out.â
In response, she hastily shook her head. âNo, Iâll wait with you!â she yelped. âIâm a little worn down, but I wanna know how it tastes myself, while itâs still fresh. Besides, we still have to clean up this mess,â she said motioning to the counters. And so they did.
Their area of the IGF Atlas, aside from the idle beeping and occasional personnel walking through the hallways, was relatively still. The peacefulness was a stark contrast from the constant activity that they normally encountered when everyone else was awake. It was refreshing, to say the least.
âYou know,â Pidge started, âI used to help my mom bake stuff when I was little, but I had no idea that it could be so physically taxing. And I know youâve been doing food stuff since forever.â She began scraping off excess batter from the sides of a large mixing bowl. âWhat made you want to learn how to cook when you were so little?â
Hunk occupied himself with dividing his failed attempts into single-serving pieces for the crew. âI donât know, there were a lot of reasons,â he shrugged. âYou already know how much I love my family. When I was little, I wanted to get involved with the grown ups, and it just so happened that the thing they did most often was cook.â
âItâs important to you, and you never gave up on it,â Pidge mused. âIf you were so invested in cooking, why didnât you focus on becoming a chef? What made you go to the Garrison?â
The boy chuckled at her. âI was like anyone else living in the modern world -- tech was a part of everyday life. Being the curious guy I was, I wanted to learn more,â Hunk stated matter-of-factly. âIt was fun to show kids my age that I was smart, and then I kind of just got addicted to building up the knowledge.â He paused to think as he carefully put the pieces of cake into sealed containers.
âAs fun and challenging as engineering is, sometimes it can feel too constricting. Like when you add two and two, it has to be four; thereâs no other option,â he said as he put the containers away. âCooking is my escape from that. I can treat recipes as guidelines instead of clear-cut rules. Iâm allowed to tweak ingredients and do whatever I want. Itâs a total game changer that lets me cater to specific tastes.â Hunk walked over and placed the now empty baking pans in the dishwasher. âI can make things the way people like.â
âThe way people like, huh?â Pidge contemplated his words as she added cutlery to the load. âIn that case,â she muttered, âwhat do you like about your cooking?â
Hunkâs face grew warm, and he wasnât sure why. âMe? Well...â He moved to sit at the nearest cafeteria table and rubbed his arm. âIf I had to pick one thing, Iâd say that I like when my cooking can make people feel like theyâre home, wherever they are. As long as people are happy when they eat my food, then I can be happy too.â
Pidge plopped next to him and straddled the metal bench. âYeah?â
âYup, thatâs why I wanted to make this cake.â Hunk placed his arms on the table and rested his head on top of them. âIt reminds me a lot of the happy times I spent with my family. Gosh, I miss them so much, you have no idea--â
He immediately bit his tongue. The apology fumbled to escape his mouth as quickly as possible. âIâm so sorry, I forgot! I have no right to complain, youâve been through so much with your family, even before we met, and I--â
âHey, hey!â Pidge smiled and waved her hand dismissively. âDonât worry about it! Thatâs all over now, so itâs okay.â She used the nail of her thumb to trace the benchâs tiny nooks. âIt was a horrible thing to experience, not knowing where Matt and Dad were, or what could have happened to them. I missed them so much, and my momâŚâ Possessed with sudden conviction, she looked up and said, âBut if I knew that this was where weâd end up, I wouldnât change that experience for anything.â She returned her attention to the bench after giving him a firm nod. âIâm happy that all that bad stuff brought me here, to this very moment.â
Hunk lifted his head to look back at her. She was smiling.
âAnd besides,â she reminded with a nudge, âI couldnât have found my family without the help of my new family.â
The two beamed and bumped fists.
Hunk couldnât help himself from chuckling. âVery true.â
âI mean, look at us,â Pidge motioned between them. âYou and I can be really different at times, but at the core, weâre the same. I picked up an interest in tech for the same reason that you picked up cooking -- it made me feel connected to my family. My relationship with computers and machinery helped me get closer to my brother⌠It even helped me get closer to youâŚâ
She wasnât sure what made her do it, but Pidge closed her eyes, leaned forward, and rested her forehead on Hunkâs upper arm. âItâs been ages since we had a chance to talk like this. Outside of my family, youâve always been the easiest person for me to talk to, even when we were Garrison newbies. I never really need to think about what to say or how Iâm going to say it⌠It all might have just been a coincidence, but Iâm glad engineering brought us together.â
âMe too,â he sighed serenely. âI always say that cooking brings people together, but technology was able to do that for the two of us.â
A few moments passed, with the pair simply enjoying each otherâs company.
The older teen feared that his heart could be heard on the other side of the galaxy. He wondered if she could hear it too.
The other gently took off the glasses dangling from her ears and pocketed them. She couldâve fallen asleep that way, with how comfortable and safe it felt.
But neither of them were brave enough to move further or closer. They didnât want it to end. This was a bubble of nirvana in the middle of a war.
Regrettably, they couldnât stay that way forever. Pidge was the first to break the peace. âThis⌠This was really nice.â
âYeahâŚâ Hunk nodded. âIt felt good to make something with you, without any interruptions or disagreements.â
âCanât help it,â she shrugged. âThatâs just what happens when you work with someone who even considers single-modulation.â
âOh shut up!â
The pair had to quiet their laughter in consideration of those who were asleep, which accounted for most of the crew. Unfortunately, the giggles had already grabbed hold of them. The more they tried to stifle the noise, the harder it got. Inside the cafeteria, their tittering crescendoed into outrageous howling. For no reason, cackles spurred on even more cackles, and their hilarity bounced off of everything in the cafeteria, fully enveloping them. Bits of their mirth managed to escape the closed doors, but thankfully, at the volume of whispers.
Their laughter was disrupted by an abrupt beeping. The timer signaled that the cake was ready to be served. An ominous mood was suddenly born from the soft, high-pitched cries. The procession to the refrigerator and back again was precarious -- aside from their footsteps, silence thickened the air.
Carefully cutting a square piece for herself, Pidge sampled their creation. Much to Hunkâs dismay, she gagged. âDSH ISH DUHDSHISH!â
âI knew it!â he cried out. The apron he had always pridefully adorned was taken off, crumpled up, and thrown to the floor. âI canât do it! This is the one thing I miss most besides my family, and now itâs even worse than tasting different -- it tastes disgusting!â
Once Pidgeâs aggressive coughing had been reduced to throat clearing, she grinned and cut out a slice five times the size of her original serving. âI guess thatâs what I get for trying to talk and eat at the same time, but man oh man! I said, this is delicious!â She took a few gulps of water to wash out any offending crumbs that remained. âYour mom is a genius, and youâre incredible! I canât believe we made this together!â
Hunk raised his brow at the latest creation, unsure of whether or not to grant it his trust. Seeing Pidge unashamedly eating nearly a third of the original cake allowed him to give it a chance. When he took his first bite, Hunk could hear the sizzle of sapasui and the cacophony of his familyâs laughter. Where he held his fork, he felt the smooth taro leaves used for Uncle Filoâs pork lau lau. The euphoria embraced him the way his mother did when he first cooked a meal without her help.
It tasted like home.
~ ~ ~
âPlease tell me what it is.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
The next day, Hunkâs face was practically pressed to the screen of his tablet; his supplementary gesticulations were frantic. âCâmon mom, you canât hold out on me forever. I know you! You mustâve purposely left something out, like a specific method or a secret ingredient, in case our family recipes fell into the wrong hands.â With his fingers, he drew an X over his chest. âI promise -- I wonât write it down, and I wonât tell anyone, but I need to know!â
âFirst of all,â she said, âthose recipes are for food thatâs meant to be shared, Hunk. And I swear, I didnât leave anything out! In fact, I added as much detail as possible so that you could make it exactly as I do.â She frowned, unsure of how to remedy the issue.
Hunk only groaned in response. âMoooom, I told you. Following the recipe, including exact measurements, was one of the first things that I did. And it didnât come out right at all!â
Hunkâs mother closed her eyes in thought, then jabbed her finger accusingly. âYou didnât accidentally confuse milliliters and liters again, did you?â
âNo mom, I didnât. I havenât messed up like that since I was a kid!â Hunk sighed. âBesides, I couldnât have made any mistakes this time because Pidge was here to help me. She double-checked everything.â He threw up his hands in defeat and slumped in his chair. âWhatever, maybe it was just a fluke. No one in the universe makes banana cake like you can.â
His mother let out a short giggle at the compliment. âMaybe so. I really do wish I could help you out, honey. I honestly havenât made banana cake since the last time I saw you.â
âWait, what!? How is that possible? You love baking it all the time. Why would you stop?â
âI donât know! I never noticed.â She nonchalantly scratched her chin with a finger. âMost of the time, I just saved it for you because it felt easier to put together when I knew youâd be there to enjoy it... Cooking isnât the same when youâre just doing it for yourself, you know? It made me feel better, knowing that the one I loved the most was smiling because of my labor.â Nostalgia washed over her. âI remember ever since you were little, and Iâd be exhausted after coming home from work, but when I knew how happy the cake made you, it gave me some kind of hidden strength. I guess you could say that it was like your smiles helped my cooking taste better.â She flashed her son a grin. âGosh, that reminds me, remember that one time when you -- Hunk wait, where are you going!?â
But Hunk had already bolted to find Pidge. He wondered if she liked cannolis.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N, outro: This fic was meant to be a 5-minute drabble inspired by a June 2019 prompt from /r/FanFiction. Instead, I got emotionally invested due to recent irl experiences. ;__;
Iâd like to thank my little brother for keeping me company during most of my process; my boyfriend, for being the inspiration for almost all my stories; and you, the reader! Thank you for taking the time to read through this work -- I truly appreciate it. If thereâs anything you think I can do to improve, please feel free to let me know!
I would v much appreciate a boost if anyone can, I really need help. The fandoms that I donât have listed could still be accepted â Iâve just been commissioned to tackle a short Boku No Hero Academia fic!
I would v much appreciate a boost if anyone can, I really need help. The fandoms that I donât have listed could still be accepted -- Iâve just been commissioned to tackle a short Boku No Hero Academia fic!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Iâm sad and disappointed that Tumblr continues to work against practically everyone. I was initially so upset about the changes that I didnât even want to cross-post my Instagram posts; it still holds true.
However, Iâm going to keep my Tumblr up for two reasons:
I want to hold onto all my posts. I started this blog way back when I was in high school, and I like to sometimes use the archive to reflect on who I was x years ago. If there ever becomes a way to archive posts off of Tumblr, Iâd be more comfortable deleting my account sooner.Â
I want to reduce the chances of getting plagiarized by cross-posting my DeviantArt works here. Tweens have led me to become overly cautious and afraid of their presence around fanfiction. (Truth be told, Iâm afraid of tweens in general.) Iâve been lucky enough to have this username available for practically everything Iâve digitally done, so Iâd like to use this Tumblr handle to my advantage. As of right now, I create a maximum of one piece per month.
Aside from my cross-posting, I donât see myself posting here any time soon -- itâs been almost four months and Iâm still fuckinâ pissed. If youâd like to keep up with whatever Iâm doing, feel free to find me on almost any site under the same username.
Clowns are creatures that need to clown. They were not meant to be domesticated and profited from as pets. They are highly active creatures that will self harm from stress in such confined spaces. Circus Clowns are delightful to keep in groups, though they are fine on their own, but every 1 clown adds 30 square feet to the space needed. They need multiple props and performance areas in order to replicate their natural environment. These are examples of proper Circus Clown or other basic clown enclosures.
Candee Fluff is a horrible brand of cotton candy, I used to feed it to my clowns and they would just throw it back up. The sugar is all unprocessed, when clowns need highly refined white sugar, just because itâs cheaper. Which is something they donât list on the packaging to fool clown owners. Ideally you should only feed your clown freshly whipped cotton candy. Large mixers may be expensive but a simple childrens make-your-own candy floss machine will suffice if your budget is tight.
Clowns shouldnât be confined to a car. (Especially a childrens car..?) Clowns are curious creatures that need to jump, tumble, honk and play to be healthy. Keeping them locked in a car 24/7 as a toy for your kids will stress them out in much the same way as a hamster in a ball. Clowns do enjoy having access to a clown car, especially in groups, but their car should provide 1 square foot per clown and their enjoyment comes primarily from exiting the vehicle in large numbers. Keeping them locked inside can reduce their lifespan by up to 10 years. A small human-sized compact car may be suitable for larger groups of clowns.
Iâm cringing at that rainbow collection of âmy mommy got me a cute clownâ balloon sticks. These are creatures that need to run around with helium balloons. They need to bounce and float away when released. Air-filled balloons on sticks are not a suitable replacement. This is the proper set up for a clown or more modern jesters.
Clowns get stressed from any foot confinement under size 16. Clown shoes are the worst item for being sold to kids as âaccessoriesâ in human foot sizes. When kept like that the clown will die a horribly stressed life within a year when they can live for 60 or more. They need colourful shoes or boots with plenty of toe-space and loud squeakers. Clowns are so intelligent that they actually play with you, and they need podiatric stimulation to live healthy. These are proper clown shoes.
Never change the natural markings of a clown. This should go without saying, but I see people buying halloween store âclown makeupâ and attempting to alter their clownâs faces. Clowns use their facial markings to identify one another, and altering it may cause stress, and even endager the clown if you keep several in the same tent.
Who the fuck would even feed an omnivorous clown pellet foodâŚ? Do they want a sick clown? If clown stores even bothered to care about the keeping of clowns, they would know that shit is bad for them. If you canât feed fresh peanuts and hot dogs then you shouldnât own a clown in the first place. Pellet food isnât even real food, itâs chemically made with preservatives.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Your story is good as it is! Sure, it may not be not up to par yet. But if you keep working at it, you can make it great the way youâre dreaming of. You just canât do that if youâre not writing.
Paisley Paver is well known for her hatred of nature and her mission to pave over it. But what made Paisley despise nature so much in the first place?
A/N: This is a work of fan fiction that uses some characters from the animated series âWild Krattsâ, owned by the Kratt Brothers Company. This work has been cross-posted over a variety of websites under the authorâs username. Please feel to leave feedback/criticism here or on a site of your choosing. Image drawn by batmanand16sodiums.
If they hadn't been in the middle of nowhere, this wouldn't have happened.
"Everything will be fine, Paisley. You'll see." Rex tried to whisper comforting thoughts to his best friend. He leaned over as best as he could in his booster seat.
Sitting next to him in a booster seat of her own, Paisley twiddled her thumbs and stared at the dirt on her jeans. She remembered she had bought the pair while out shopping with her mother. She was insistent on purchasing the medium to match Rex's size, and her father wound up altering the length by the end of that same day.
While speeding down the freeway, Paisley looked out the window and was mesmerized by the streetlights. The ebb and flow of their off-white glow put her in a mild trance, leaving her thoughts blank for an instant.
"How much longer?" she asked no one in particular.
"We're almost there, honey. I promise." Rex's father glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "I'm driving as fast as I'm allowed t-"
"No, I mean, how many minutes?" she rasped. Her monotonic tone carried an unmistakable hint of fatigue.
Rex's mother couldn't help but smile a bit. Tossing an "almost there" would have easily been acceptable enough for her son, but never Paisley. She looked at the time on the dashboard. "About five minutes or so. We'll be at the hospital before you know it," she said. She reached into the tote bag at her feet. "Did you want any water?"
Paisley shook her head. "No thank you, I'm okay. Just please keep going as fast as you can."
No one in the car understood how she could be okay. She had spent so much time screaming, her voice could be mistaken for that of a long-time smoker.
Still, Paisley's eyes remained captivated by the passing lights. She thought that she would be able to quell her worries for even a few moments. Try as she might, her mind couldn't help but wander and replay the horrid memories of the few hours that had passed.
If they had all stayed home, this wouldn't have happened.
It was just supposed to be a fun camping trip. Paisley's family and Rex's family made the drive together every year, so this year shouldn't have been any different.
One day, as the sun was setting, the two families set off on different hiking trails. During the Pavers' hike, when the sun had long gone, Paisley's mother attempted to take a photograph of a cliffside flower that had bloomed. She reached far and contorted her body for the best angle. It happened in an instant. She successfully captured the plant's beauty under the moonlight's illumination, but the earth beneath one of her feet had crumbled. With a brief cry, she disappeared into the ravine below. Thud.
A lump made its way into Paisley's throat. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn't swallow it back down. "M-mommy?"
Paisley's father rushed to where her mother last stood. He let out a string of curses; hearing them come from his mouth was so foreign to Paisley, it made her hairs stand on end. Her father swiftly, but carefully, attempted to make his way down to her mother. He had made considerable progress for a few seconds. To Paisley's horror, he too slipped and couldn't regain his footing. Thud.
When Paisley cautiously peeked over the edge, she could barely make out the outline of her father on top of her mother. Both laid still.
Paisley could feel her heart pounding in her ears. "Mommy? Daddy?" She quickly stood up to look and listen all around her. She strained her eyes to get a quick glimpse of her surroundings, but the moonlight could only help her see so far. She searched for any hint or sign that would help her parents. All she could hear was her rapid breathing and... whimpering? She looked down into the ravine once more. Paisley's heart raced. "MOMMY! DADDY!"
Another whimper from her mother.
The little girl spun around to face the forest behind her. She knew all too well that she would easily get lost if she attempted to navigate the trail on her own. Even if she could find her way, the thought of leaving her parents behind terrified her even more. Paisley finally came to the most logical solution any child could think up - she screamed.
"HHEEEELLLLLPP!"
For nearly twenty minutes, Paisley screamed and screamed until her throat was hoarse. She could feel the gritty strain in her throat. Still, she didn't give up. She couldn't give up. When she started crying, she couldn't recall, but her despair was so intense that it was just as loud as any of her screams.
Rex and his family erupted through the trees and came running towards her sobs. Paisley blurted out all that had transpired. Rex's father immediately ran back to the campsite to call for help on his satellite phone. Their tents turned out to be less than half a kilometer away. For safety's sake, Rex's mother instructed the children to stand far from the edge. Paisley attempted to join her, to assist her somehow, but Rex held Paisley back. Rex's devotion to Paisley had always been doubtless and bulletproof, but he knew better than to disobey his own mother in such dire moments. Paisley wanted to resist him, but thought twice and decided against it - she had done her part, and had ruined her voice as a result. Rex's mother called out to the Pavers in the ravine, but Paisley's mother was no longer whimpering. They remained still and silent.
When help arrived, the scene became a chaotic blur for Paisley. Before Paisley knew it, flashing lights came in and chased away the darkness. Coupled with the commotion, the sudden influx of noise brought in by the sirens' shrieks made Paisley and Rex both wail in fear. Police cars, ambulances, and park ranger jeeps rushed into the area. The people pouring out of the vehicles had all come to help Paisley's parents.
If her mother hadn't been so obsessed with nature, this wouldn't have happened.
Paisley was desperate to stay. She wouldn't abandon her parents so easily. But the police insisted that Paisley, Rex, and his family leave immediately and get to the nearest hospital before them. Rex's parents immediately understood that it was primarily to make the rescue more fluid, but it was also meant to protect Paisley from what she might see. Failing to fight back her tears, Paisley begged to stay with the authorities and to somehow aid her parents. All through her hiccuping sobs and whispery voice, she tried to maintain respect with excessive "pleases", "ma'ams," and "sirs." The police were firm with what they wanted, but in return tried to be as gentle as possible. They assured her that they were working hard to rescue her parents, and that they were doing their best. Paisley knew she wanted nothing but the best for her mother and father right then. She quickly became aware of the fact that her efforts were possibly hindering the officers. Paisley reluctantly complied, but on the condition that Rex and his family move as quickly as possible,
In Paisley's mind, the entire ordeal was recollected in a matter of seconds. In the forest, help arrived after what felt like several lifetimes.
Paisley looked up at the clock for what seemed the millionth time that night. Two hours had passed since they arrived at the hospital. She couldn't help but wonder what would make her parents this late. Rex's parents had already spoken to various doctors and nurses multiple times, but none of them had any answers. Paisley noticed that Rex's mother mostly sat still and cradled her face in her hands. Rex's father, on the other hand, could hardly stop pacing as he tossed occasional glances at the children.
Rex, aware of the situation's mood, tried to find quiet amusement by kicking his legs back and forth in his chair. When they first arrived, he had tried to constantly reassure Paisley. She could fool any grown up with her stoicism. If there was anything he knew, it was how she truly felt. He knew that deep down she was terrified. Paisley herself wasn't even aware of how afraid she was; her logical mindset had deceived her into putting her feelings aside. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't think of how else to help her besides offer comforting words. After being dismissed by his friend several times, Rex thought it best to simply stay by her side.
Paisley looked up at the clock again, and felt betrayal at the single minute that had passed. She scowled at its face, blaming it for her parents' tardiness.
"Excuse me," a man said. His voice interrupted Paisley's anger as her attention turned to his stethoscope. "Are you the family that accompanied the Pavers?"
"Yes, yes we are," said Rex's mother. She quickly stood up and moved to be by her husband. "Are they here now?"
"I'm afraid we can't tell you that. Would you happen to know any family members of the Pavers that we can contact?"
Rex's father gently threw up his hands in defeat. "That little girl over there - Paisley - she's their daughter. There's no one else," he said. "Please... Please. We just want to know if everything is alright. Are they finally here?"
The doctor opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. He moved to be by Paisley's side and decided to squat next to her. "Hi, I'm Doctor Wells. Are you Paisley Paver?"
Paisley, desperate to see her parents again, silently nodded. He motioned towards Rex's parents. "Are these the people that were with you when you were camping?" he asked,"Are they very close with your parents?" Again, Paisley nodded.
"Okay," he said, "Thank you for letting me know. Can you please stay here with your friend?"
"I will, but when can I see my parents?" Paisley looked right into the doctor's eyes, hoping that he would somehow be able to sense her desperation. Dr. Wells pursed his lips once more. It had been a long while since the last time he'd met such a straightforward child. He gave Paisley a small smile before standing up to walk towards the nurses station.
He whispered something to a nurse, and the nurse warmly smiled at Paisley. Dr. Wells signaled for Rex's parents to follow him down a hallway, opposite where they had been facing in the waiting area. Rex's mother managed to call out a "stay put, kids" before disappearing.
Knowingly, Paisley and Rex looked at each other and nodded. Paisley stared at the clock, this time, without looking away. She had lost track of time when her parents needed her most, and she wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. Rex stared at the base of the nurses station. One minute passed. Then another. And another. Four whole minutes had passed before Rex blurted out, "Now."
Paisley tore her eyes away from the clock and saw that the nurse was gone. The two jumped out of their seats, scrambled to hide behind an empty gurney, and faced the hallway that Dr. Wells had gone down. They didn't have to look very far. On the other side of the waiting area wall, right where Paisley had been resting her head, was a windowed conference room. The blinds were down, but the slits were open enough to still see what was going on inside. Rex's mother was embracing his father. Her face was hidden as her shoulders shuddered violently. Rex's father tightly held her, grimly nodding at whatever Dr. Wells was saying.
"Hey, Paisley?" Rex, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene, reached for Paisley's hand in fear. "Is Mom crying?"
Paisley remained silent and hung her head. As she squeezed Rex's hand, she felt resentment arise in response to her dirty jeans.
If they had been closer to a city, this wouldn't have happened.