rottinghouseplants

Cherry’s fingernails clacked against the keyboard as she filled out her reports, it had been weeks since she met her new neighbors. She’d been promoted to Assistant Manager at Dewey, Cheatem & Howe Inc. But she couldn’t help but feel out of sorts, ever since her interaction with Saffron. It was so unlike her, anytime she had a second of downtime, she found herself thinking of her green eyes looking down into hers. She felt her palms get sweaty, and a smile spread across her lips. She found herself hoping they would cross paths in the hall, or that she’d hear a familiar knock on her door.

When it finally did, she felt herself melt into a puddle on the floor. When she opened the door, Saffron stood there leaning against the doorframe. “Hey, Cherry.”

Cherry looked up at her with glossy doe eyes, “Hi..”

Cherry smiled as the brush glided across the canvas, soft acoustic music playing out of her small speaker. Out her window, San Myshuno bustled with the life of the weekend. She thought about maybe going to the Spice festival, but quickly decided it was not worth it. The thought gave her a knot in her stomach now, she quickly pushed it away. As she went to lift her brush to the canvas again, a loud persistent knock at her front door startled her. Her paint brush clattered to the floor, splattering green oil paint all over the wood planks and rug. She quickly ran down the stairs and put her hand gently on the doorknob. With a deep inhale, she pulled the door open. Two women and a man stood there, smiling. “Hello, neighbor!” The shorter of the two women waved as she greeted Cherry. She just stood there shocked, Cherry had not had neighbors the whole two years she had lived there. The shorter woman spoke again, “Well we heard music and we just wanted to introduce ourselves, I’m Ichigo,” she gestured to the man with the loveliest arrangement of green freckles, “This is Phyllo.” He waved nervously, his cheeks flushing slightly.

The taller woman stepped around Ichigo and extended her hand, looking Cherry up and down, “Saffron.” She smiled slightly, there was a spark in her eyes that Cherry couldn’t place.

Cherry lifted her hand nervously, foregoing the handshake. “Hi, I’m Cherry.” She shifted her gaze slightly from the floor. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

Phyllo opened his mouth to speak, his face fully red now, but Ichigo dragged him into their apartment before the words could come out. “Nice to meet you, Cherry. Hopefully we can hang out or something sometime!” The door closed behind them, leaving Saffron and Cherry in the hall alone.

Her job is the same. Predictable, structured, rewarding. She’s good at her job, really good, exceptionally good. Numbers just made sense in her mind, as if they spoke in their own beautiful language. Patterns just click, and she found herself often times engrossed in her work. Her coworkers call her dependable, constantly showering her with compliments on her work ethic. She was focused, hardworking, executive material. Those last two words clung to her like a gold star badge of honor. She should feel proud, and for the most part she did. For the most part.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Cherry’s eyes fluttered open, 6:15 AM. She let out a peaceful sigh and popped up in her bed. Her brain switched on the same way the office lights do, a flicker then blinding light. She was like a cog in the machine, she thrived on routine. Routine, sweet, sweet routine. It steadied her, makes the world feel navigateable.

The next day came and went, the air thick with tension as Violet nervously made her way to the Art room. Her heart pounded with uncertainty. As she entered the empty classroom, the smell of paint and charcoal filled her nostrils, adding to the already overwhelming atmosphere. And there he was, Wolfgang, leaning casually against the wall near the doorway. His piercing blue eyes met hers, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Hey, ET. How's it going?" He said, his voice smooth like honey. But there was a hint of playfulness in his tone that made Violet's stomach churn with regret. Had she made a mistake coming here?

"Did you ask me to come here to insult me? Cause please don't." Her voice trembled as she tried to hold back the sadness that threatened to consume her. Wolfgang's smile faded, and he turned to fully lean his back against the wall.

"I'm sorry, that was insensitive. I didn't mean it as an insult. I think it's kind of cool." Violet looked up at him with confusion, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite decipher. Was it sincerity? Or was he just playing with her?

"What do you want, Wolfgang?" Her heart beat faster in her chest, a mix of fear and longing coursing through her. She knew he was trouble, but here she was, unable to resist his pull.

"I don't know, really." He walked deeper into the art room, swinging his arms playfully. "I just think you're interesting. You've been kind of hard to get to know, and I told you before, maybe I just want to get to know you better." He laughed and turned back towards Violet, his expression unreadable. "I didn't think you'd actually come, but here you are. So," He moved even closer to her, and Violet could feel her heartbeat racing even faster. "You must want to get to know me too."

But as much as she wanted to deny it, Violet couldn't deny the pull she felt towards Wolfgang. He was a mystery, a puzzle she couldn't solve. And she wanted to solve it, to discover the real him beneath the charming rebellious façade. But she also knew that getting closer to him meant risking even more heartbreak. And that terrified her more than anything.

Violet's fingers fumbled nervously in front of her, her heart racing as she avoided all eye contact. She could feel the tension radiating off of Wolfgang, his mischievous smile only adding to the intensity of the moment. Every fiber of her being was on edge, her words stuck in her throat as she struggled to form a coherent sentence. Wolfgang's head cocked to the side, his eyes never leaving Violet's trembling form. His words hung in the air, cutting through the thick silence that filled the empty classroom. It was as if he could see right through her, his gaze piercing and unnerving.

"Do you like parties?" His words echoed in the room, and Violet could feel her heart skip a beat.

"I've never been to one before", she whispered. The thought of it made her palms sweat and her cheeks flush with embarrassment. But Wolfgang's laughter was soft and inviting, easing the tension that had built up inside her. His hands shoved in his pockets, he leaned closer to her, his face only inches from hers. She could feel the electricity in the air, her hair standing on end as she met his gaze once more.

"Well, I'm throwing one next weekend." His voice was smooth and confident, like he was used to getting whatever he wanted. "It's not any different than the ones I normally throw. It's at the bluffs in Windenburg. There's a keg, people, normally we have a bonfire." He paused, his eyes never leaving hers. "You should come. Bring whoever you want." Violet's mind was racing, her heart pounding as she took in his words. A party? At the bluffs? With Wolfgang? It sounded both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. But before she could even process her thoughts, he leaned even closer, she could almost feel the warmth radiating off him.

"That sounds like fun." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with anticipation.

"Good." His voice was low and smooth, sending shivers down her spine. "I guess I'll see you there, Violet." And with that, he straightened up and walked past her, his shoulder brushing against hers in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Violet stood there, her mind reeling as she tried to process what had just happened. Her heart was racing and her palms were still sweaty, but there was also a sense of excitement coursing through her veins.

As Violet stepped off the bus, she was immediately enveloped in a sea of noise and movement. The bustling school grounds were a chaotic mix of students rushing to their classes and teachers barking orders. Despite the chaos, Violet felt a sense of peace wash over her as she took in the fresh, crisp morning air. Suddenly, a gentle hand grabbed her arm, causing her heart to skip a beat. She turned to see a smiling face dusted with soft freckles looking back at her. Violet couldn't help but stare, captivated by the girl's vibrant energy. "Hey! You're Violet, right?" the girl asked, her voice like a melodic whisper. Violet nodded, momentarily unable to find her voice. "I'm Cassandra. We have History and English together," the girl continued, her smile never faltering. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now. I love your style, it's very minimalist."

Violet's cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. She didn't receive compliments often, especially not from her peers. But something about Cassandra's genuine admiration made her feel seen and appreciated. "Thank you," Violet replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I like your style too. It's very... gothic." She couldn't help but let out a small giggle, feeling a sense of connection with Cassandra. The girl erupted in laughter, her whole body shaking with mirth.

"If only you knew the half of it," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. Violet couldn't help but be drawn to her eccentricity and carefree attitude. As they made their way towards the building, Cassandra turned back to Violet. "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or anything, let me know. You always seem really sweet in class." Violet nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of spending more time with this intriguing girl. As they made their way to class, Violet couldn't shake off the feeling of excitement and joy that Cassandra had brought into her day. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt like maybe she was starting to belong.

Violet sat alone at an empty desk, her fingers tapping nervously on her cellphone as she waited for class to begin. The room was silent except for the soft humming of the fluorescent lights and the occasional rustle of papers. Suddenly, the door swung open and a burst of energy entered the room, in the form of a stunning blonde girl. She moved with confidence and grace, her long hair cascading down her back in perfect waves. She made her way towards Violet's desk, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. Violet couldn't help but stare, mesmerized by the girl's beauty. But her admiration quickly turned to fear as the girl tapped her fingers on Violet's desk and spoke in a sharp tone. "Excuse me, I think you're in my friend's desk." Her voice was like ice, sending shivers down Violet's spine. Violet looked up, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I don't... I don't think there's an assigned seating chart for this class." She stammered, trying to sound confident. The blonde's piercing blue eyes narrowed, as if she was sizing Violet up. "Oh no, I don't think you heard me. I said, I think you're in my friend's desk. So move, freak." Her words cut through the air like a knife, and Violet could feel the stares of the other students burning into her. Feeling defeated, Violet quickly stood up and moved to another desk. She couldn't bring herself to look back at the blonde girl, afraid of what she might see. As the lesson began, Violet couldn't help but notice the girl sneaking glances at her phone, typing something and giggling to herself. And soon enough, the other girls in the class joined in, their laughter and whispers filling the room. Violet felt a mix of anger and sadness wash over her, but she kept her head down, picking at her hands to avoid the stares. The bell finally rang, signaling the end of class and the start of lunch. As most of the students and the teacher filed out of the room, the blonde girl remained, her eyes locked on Violet. She walked past Violet's desk with a haughty air, her steps echoing through the room.

"Remember your place, freak." The words echoed through Violet's head, stinging like a slap to the face. Her heart sank as she felt the weight of Krystal's words crushing her spirit. The room suddenly felt colder, the air thick with tension. Her stoic face twisted into a slight smile as she waltzed out of the room, her heels clicking against the floor, a haunting melody that followed her departure. Violet put her head down on the desk and sighed, feeling the weight of her loneliness and isolation bearing down on her.

A few moments passed before she felt a hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch that brought a sense of comfort. "Violet?" Cassandra's soft voice brought a ray of light into the darkness. She could sense the pain in her friend's posture, and her heart ached for her. "Just ignore Krystal," Cassandra said, her voice filled with determination. "She's a bitch, and she's not worth your time." Her words were like a shield, protecting Violet from the cruel world outside. But no matter how strong the shield, it couldn't stop the tears from welling up in Violet's eyes. She couldn't bear to lift her head and show her weakness to Cassandra. Her tears were her own burden to bear.

"It's okay," Violet said, her voice soothing and understanding. "It's just been hard. I thought it would get better after a year or two. But I'm a senior and I literally can't go a day without being reminded that I'm a loser." Violet sighed again, her tears streaming down her face in silent agony. She buried her face even deeper in her arms, wishing she could disappear from this harsh reality.

Cassandra's hand continued to rub Violet's shoulder gently, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes. "I don't think you're a loser," she said, her voice filled with sincerity. "I think that people just haven't given you a chance. And maybe, Krystal is just jealous cause you have something she doesn't." Cassandra kneeled next to Violet's desk, her eyes filled with compassion as she looked over at her friend. "Don't beat yourself up," she said. "My dad always says that high school is rough, and it's a time to have fun. So let's go have fun. Don't let some high class snob make you sad!" She pulled on Violet's arms gently, a small glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. "Let's get some lunch," she said. "I'll meet you in the cafeteria." Violet stood up, rubbing the tears from her face with her sleeve. She felt a sense of warmth and gratitude towards Cassandra, grateful for her kindness and support.

"Okay, I'm going to run to my locker," she said. "I'll meet you there." She managed a small smile, her face still streaked with tears. "Thank you, Cassandra," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "It means a lot to me that you're being so nice to me."

"Of course," Cassandra nodded. "That's what friends are for."

Violet walked through the hallway to her locker, self soothing with deep calculated breathing. As she approached her locker she let out a deep sigh. One bad thing doesn't make up for all the good things in her life.

As she opened her locker, a small piece of paper fluttered down, landing at her feet. Violet's heart skipped a beat as she bent down to pick it up. She unfolded it carefully, half-expecting it to be a cruel joke or a mean-spirited comment. But instead, her eyes were met with neat, confident handwriting.

Violet,

Meet me in the art room tomorrow after school.

The note was signed with a name that sent a jolt of excitement through her veins - Wolfgang. Her mind raced with questions and possibilities. What did he want? Why did he want to meet her? Violet tucked the note back into her locker, her mind buzzing with anticipation. She could already feel her pulse quickening, her senses on high alert. She couldn't wait to see Wolfgang again, to unravel the mystery that surrounded him. As she made her way to the cafeteria, Violet couldn't help but wonder about the enigmatic boy who had captured her attention. There was something intriguing and complex about him, something that drew her in like a moth to a flame. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she knew she wanted to know more. But along with the excitement and curiosity, there was also a tinge of fear. What if this was all just a cruel game to him? What if he was just toying with her emotions?

Every mundane weekday was a monotonous routine for Violet. The droning sound of the bus engine, the smell of stale coffee and musty backpacks, the harsh fluorescent lighting of the classroom - it was all so suffocating. As she made her way through the day, Violet had to navigate through a sea of cruel classmates who never missed an opportunity to make her feel small. Their piercing gazes and cutting remarks were like daggers, constantly chipping away at her fragile self-esteem. But what made it bearable was the anticipation of coming home to her father, Francisco. He was the only one who truly understood her, the only one who saw her for who she was.

Today was no different. As she sat across from him, watching his fingers move across the keyboard with precision, she felt a sense of comfort wash over her. But amidst the familiar clicking of the keys, Violet couldn't shake off the feeling of loneliness that gnawed at her heart. She wanted to ask her father, to confide in him, to seek solace in his understanding. "Dad, can I ask you something?" Her voice trembled as she broke the silence. She looked up at him, hoping to find reassurance in his warm gaze. But his raised eyebrow only added to her anxiety. "Yes, sweetheart, what is it?" His fingers froze above the keys as he looked up from his laptop. "Is something wrong?"

Violet sighed and fiddled with her pencil, her heart pounding in her chest. "Well, not necessarily. I just...do you ever feel alone? Like, not with me obviously, but just in general." She set the pencil down and looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I just, sometimes I feel like even in a crowd of people, I'm alone. Even when they talk to me, it feels like they don't really see me." The words hung heavy in the air, the silence between them deafening. And then, Francisco's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy.

"Of course I understand, honey." Francisco's voice was strained as he paused, his hands gesturing around the cramped trailer they called home. "I've spent the last sixteen years raising you on my own, most days working in a sterile lab, and I'm hardly what you would call a social butterfly." Violet couldn't help but let out a quiet giggle, but Francisco's expression remained serious as he looked back down at his computer. "But even in my loneliest moments, I hold on to the things I love about my life."

As Francisco spoke, Violet couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She had always known her father was a reserved and introverted man, but it wasn't until this moment that she truly understood the weight of his sacrifices. She could feel the tension in his voice, see the lines of exhaustion etched on his face. But despite it all, Francisco still managed to find joy in his life. She could almost feel the warmth of his love for her, filling the small space they shared. And as she looked at him, she couldn't help but admire his strength and resilience. For sixteen years, he had been her rock, her constant. And in that moment, Violet realized that her father was the most intriguing and complex person she knew. A man who had dedicated his life to raising her, a man who found happiness in the simplest of things, who had risked his very life for the betterment of people that had never truly gotten to know him at all or had cast him out. As she watched him work, Violet couldn't help but be overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. Gratitude, love, and a newfound appreciation for her father's unwavering devotion. With a newfound understanding, she leaned closer to him and whispered, "I love you, Dad." And in that moment, she knew that no matter what, they would always have each other.

Violet's heart raced as she tentatively sat down at the lunch table, her palms sweating with nervousness. The loud laughter and playful banter of the group of freshman filled the air, making her feel like an outsider. She could feel their eyes on her, judging her for being different. And then there were the two boys at the table, their energy clashing in a friendly but intense debate. "No one is gonna catch us, Jayden. The Bluffs are literally the perfect spot," the blonde guy with piercings said confidently, his voice laced with rebellion. "They're so isolated that nobody ever goes back there anymore." He slapped the back of the guy next to him, urging him to join in on the excitement. "Stop being such a bummer."

But Jayden's expression remained serious as he voiced his concerns. "Dude, if we get caught with a keg I'm going to lose my place on the Football team. I'll lose my chance at a scholarship," he said, his tone weighed down with worry. "Then I'll have to go to fucking Foxbury or Britechester." He rolled his eyes and looked back at the kid next to him. "If you're sure we won't get caught, I'll go. But if the cops show up, I'm out, Wolfgang."

Violet couldn't help but eavesdrop on their conversation, her curiosity piqued by their rebellious plans. But before she could fully process what they were saying, she was suddenly the center of attention. Wolfgang's piercing gaze fell on her, the corners of his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "You're that new alien chick, right?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, I don't see any other green girls in here, so you must be." Violet felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment as she fidgeted under his intense scrutiny. She couldn't hide the sickly color of her skin, the tips of her ears that poked through her thick black curly hair, or the slightly larger size of her eyes and the sharpness of her teeth. She was different, and she knew it.

Feeling uncomfortable and out of place, Violet made a move to leave. "I'm sorry, I can go. Sorry to bother you," she muttered, her voice barely audible. She swung her leg over the bench to stand, eager to escape the judgmental eyes. No matter how much time passed at this high school, she couldn't change her appearance or hide her true self.

"I didn't say you had to leave," Wolfgang's voice was smooth and confident, his deep blue eyes never leaving Violet's face. "Maybe I just wanted to know your name." His words had a hint of playfulness, but his tone was serious. Violet's heart raced as she felt his intense gaze on her. She could feel her cheeks flush as she tried to keep her cool. Wolfgang straightened his posture, his tall frame looming over the table. A cheesy gap-toothed smile spread across his face, making him seem even more charming. "Maybe I just wanted to get to know you better," he continued, his voice low and seductive. He winked before chuckling under his breath, his confidence radiating off of him.

Jayden rolled his eyes in response, clearly unimpressed. He looked across the table at his sister, and then back at Wolfgang, "Are you serious? You have a girlfriend, Wolf. Chill before Krystal loses her mind."

Wolfgang shot a glance at Jayden, unfazed by his disapproval. He put his hand up in front of him, as if to defend himself. "Relax," he said, his voice still oozing with charm. "I'm just having a little fun." But then, his expression turned more serious as he leaned forward over the table towards Violet. He pushed his lunch tray towards her, as if offering her something. "So, what's your name, ET?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Violet felt a lump in her throat, feeling like a cornered animal. She was drawn to Wolfgang's charisma, but she couldn't ignore the fact that he had a girlfriend. "Um...Violet," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Just as the words escaped her lips, the bell rang loudly through the halls, signaling the end of lunch and the start of the next class. Violet jumped from her seat, grateful for the distraction. She quickly gathered her things and made her way towards her next class, not even waiting for Wolfgang's response. As she walked away, she couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment. She was intrigued by Wolfgang, but she knew she had to stay away. After all, she didn't want to be the reason for any drama between him and his girlfriend. But as she glanced back at him, she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to him than meets the eye.

"I think you'll like it here, Violet! I'm glad to have you join us at Copperdale High School. If you refer to your schedule you'll see that we implement a block schedule, and your first class will be with Mrs. Coombas in Class A, for Algebra 1." The principal handed a piece of paper to Violet, pointing to the top of it. "I'm sure you'll love it here. Class starts in about fifteen minutes, so you should probably get a head start." Violet nodded and stood up from the bench, feeling a sense of dread wash over her.

Thanking Ms. Prescott with a forced smile, Violet made her way to the west wing of the school, using the map on the back of her schedule as guidance. As she walked, she couldn't help but feel conflicted. This was a new territory that she had wanted for so long, but now that it was here, she felt a pang of regret. She had always dreamed of going to a normal high school like Copperdale, but now that she was actually there, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she didn't belong. As she approached the classroom, Violet took a deep breath and tried to push away her doubts.

Violet sat alone in the back of the classroom, her desk the only remaining empty one. As Mrs. Coombas began her lesson, Violet couldn't help but notice the whispers swirling around her. They were like a swarm of gnats, buzzing and pricking at her skin.

"Why does she look like that?"

"Are we letting circus freaks into High Schools now?"

"Is that an alien? I didn't think they were real. Aren't they supposed to be locked up in a government facility or something?"

Violet felt her heart sink and her cheeks burn with shame. She shrunk into her chair, desperate to hide behind her textbook. But it was no use. The whispers only grew louder, each one piercing her like a dagger. Suddenly, Mrs. Coombas' voice cut through the chatter like a sharp knife.

"Ahem, class. I would implore you to please redirect your focus to the current lesson. There will be a test this Friday, don't think just because it's your first day that there will be any slacking." Her tone was stern and unyielding, but Violet could sense the underlying disapproval. Mrs. Coombas tapped her nails impatiently on the whiteboard and continued with her lesson, but Violet couldn't hear a word. She was too consumed by her own thoughts, her own insecurities. She wanted to disappear, to escape the prying eyes and cruel words of her classmates. But she couldn't escape her own truth. That she was different, strange, an outcast. And no matter how hard she tried, she would always stand out in a crowd. Violet's eyes filled with tears as she struggled to hold back her emotions. She was used to being an outsider, but it still hurt. She longed to be accepted, to fit in, but it seemed like an impossible dream.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Violet quickly gathered her things and rushed out of the classroom. She didn't want to face the judgment and ridicule of her peers any longer. But as she walked through the crowded hallways, she couldn't help but wonder: would things ever be different? Would she ever be seen as anything other than a freak?

Violet's 15th birthday had finally arrived, and she could hardly contain her excitement. As she sat at the kitchen table, she could practically smell the sweet aroma of the cake batter that her father, Francisco, was carefully mixing at the counter. She watched his hands move with precision and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him.

"Dad, I've made my decision about high school," Violet exclaimed, her hands flying up in excitement. Francisco turned to look at her, his ears perking up in curiosity.

"Oh? And what have you decided, Vi?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm going to public high school," Violet replied confidently. "I think it will be good for me." Francisco's smiled to himself as he continued baking. He knew this was the right decision for Violet, and he was happy that she had come to this conclusion on her own.

"I agree. I'll take care of the paperwork tomorrow before work, so you'll be all set when the school year starts. It's just around the corner." As he pulled out a cake pan from the cabinet and poured the batter in, Francisco couldn't help but reflect on how fast time had flown by. "I can't believe you're 15 already. I'm getting old, kiddo. Where did the time go?"

Violet laughed and shook her head. "You're not that old, dad," she reassured him. She leaned her head against the window and looked out at the twinkling lights of the trailer park. It was a new beginning for both of them, and she couldn't wait to see what the future held.

The sound of the oven timer broke their moment of reflection, and Francisco quickly took out the cake. The warm, sweet smell filled the kitchen and Violet's stomach growled in anticipation. As they sat down to enjoy the delicious cake, Violet couldn't help but feel grateful for her father and the new adventure that awaited her.

Violet's face lit up as she carefully studied the scouting board, eagerly searching for the next badge she could earn. Her father, Francisco, couldn't help but smile at the sight of his daughter's newfound enthusiasm for scouting. It was a refreshing change to see her so excited and motivated.

"Wow, you're really taking this seriously, huh?" Francisco remarked, admiring Violet's dedication.

"Of course, Daddy! I can't wait to earn my next badge and show everyone what I'm capable of," Violet replied, determination evident in her voice. As she carefully reviewed the requirements for each badge, Violet's mind was buzzing with excitement. She could already imagine herself proudly wearing the badge and showing it off to her friends and family. With each new badge she earned, Violet felt like a completely different person. She was no longer content with staying cooped up in the house, she wanted to explore and challenge herself. And her passion for scouting only continued to grow.

Violet was determined to earn every single scout badge possible. She spent every spare moment pushing herself to the limit, reading books way beyond her years and giving away her cherished toys to those in need. Her dedication to the scouts was evident in her thirst for knowledge and her selflessness. As she ventured into the great outdoors, she absorbed every little detail, soaking up the sights, sounds, and smells of nature. Her father, Francisco, could only watch in awe as she achieved one badge after another. He was truly so proud of her.

Francisco's work at FutureSims Labs had resumed shortly after Violet's birth. And Francisco had surprisingly navigated being a single father and working a full time job without too many roadblocks. And even though, his coworkers viewed him differently, due to the strangeness and impossibility of his daughter's birth, he still loved his job and remained there. He had even gotten a promotion after the Head of Research and Development found out about his part in the Strangerville events. Despite the demands of his new role as a UFOlogist, he threw himself into his career with vigor. He often sacrificed time with Violet, but justified it by reminding himself of her own hobbies and interests. As Francisco walked through the doors of FutureSims Labs, the hum of machinery and chatter of his coworkers filled his ears. He greeted his colleagues with a smile, eager to get started for the day. But with each passing moment, Francisco felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He knew he was missing out on precious moments with Violet, but he couldn't tear himself away from his work. And as much as he hated to admit it, he also enjoyed the thrill of solving mysteries and uncovering secrets. He never could have predicted the explosive situation that awaited him at home.

Francisco pushed open the creaky door of his cramped trailer, his heart racing with anticipation. "Violet, I'm home!" He called out, expecting to see his daughter sitting at the dining room table as she always did. But to his surprise, she was nowhere to be seen. "Violet?" He called again, his voice echoing off the empty walls. His chest tightened with worry, a knot forming in his stomach.

He sprinted up the narrow staircase, his steps heavy and frantic. Bursting into his daughter's room, he found her hunched over her scout board, tears streaming down her face. She was tearing off pictures and notes, her sobs muffled by her shaking hands. "What's going on, Violet?" Francisco asked, his voice gentle but urgent as he wrapped his arms around her trembling form. He needed to know what was causing her so much pain. "What's wrong?"

Violet's sobs echoed through the room, tears pouring down her face. She couldn't understand why she didn't fit in, why some of her fellow scouts looked at her so strangely, and made cruel comments as they passed by. Francisco's embrace was comforting, but it couldn't silence the thoughts that tormented her. "What's wrong with me? Why am I so ugly?" she cried, her voice cracking with pain. Her father's gentle smile did little to soothe her. She gazed into his eyes, searching for answers, but all she saw was a reflection of her own confusion and insecurity.

"Sweetheart, you're not ugly at all," he said, his voice laced with sadness. "You're beautiful. There's nothing wrong with you." Violet's heart clenched at his words. She wanted to believe him, but the mirror told a different story. She couldn't escape the harsh reality of her appearance, no matter how much her father tried to convince her otherwise.

"But I don't want to be different," she wailed, her hands flailing helplessly. "I want to be normal." Francisco's expression grew pained, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

"Violet, I'm going to tell you the truth. I've been keeping this from you, waiting for the right time to tell you. But you're old enough now." He paused, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "You're not entirely human, Violet. Your mother...she wasn't from Earth." Violet's mind reeled at his words, unable to comprehend the truth behind them. Her mother, not from Earth? It was too much to take in. She collapsed into her father's arms, seeking comfort and understanding in his embrace.

"But...how? Why?" she sobbed, her tears soaking into his shirt.

Francisco held her tightly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know all the details, Violet. It's all a blur. But I remember waking up from a strange dream, and now I know it wasn't a dream at all. I believe I was abducted, and you...you were the best gift they could have left me with."

Violet's heart swelled with a mixture of confusion and wonder. She had always felt different, but she never could have imagined this. She looked up at her father, her eyes filled with questions. "What does this mean? Will I always be different?"

Francisco's gaze softened as he looked at his daughter, his voice filled with love and pride. "Yes, Violet. You will always be different, but that's what makes you so amazing. You have a strength and resilience that most people could only dream of. And your mother...wherever she is, I know she would be so proud of you." As Violet processed her father's words, she couldn't help but still feel angry and upset. She was no longer just a girl struggling to fit in, she was a powerful and unique being, with a mother from a world beyond her wildest imagination. And she knew, deep in her heart, that she was loved and cherished by her father, no matter what. However, it wouldn't make the road ahead of her any easier.

I’ve been tattooing for six years, and I’m finally opening my own private studio with my apprentice. My friends are opening a shop and they are planning to let me take over the lease for their studio. Im literally crying right now because this is my actual dream and I’ve been working so hard for this for so long.