#matriarclair

﹙ *  ♚  ﹚▌▌ it shouldn't be difficult to pick up the phone. it should be just as simple as any other conversation, like discussing something as mundane as the weather. ( is it raining on beechwood? because it's raining in burlington ... oh, by the way, mom: sam and i, yeah, we're getting a divorce— but don't worry i was already thinking about replacing the china his parents bought us for a poor excuse of a wedding gift— ) but where penny feels nothing in regards to sam leaving, she feels everything about people knowing of his departure. it's an admission of failure at best. not her favourite look by any means. at worst, though ... at worst: it's an invitation for questions, AND THEIR ANSWERS MIGHT NOT BE MIRROR IMAGES. as the phone rings, she swears each one laughs at her. maybe it's better if tipper doesn't answer. maybe there is still a little luck— ❝   hi, mom.   ❞ tonally, she's all performance, but fuck she could've used a dress rehearsal. fear of the imperfection she's about to admit threatens to claw up her throat and create cracks in her voice where she should otherwise keep a stiff upper lip. ❝   do you have a minute or am i interrupting something?   ❞ the least she can do is be a credit by asking first.

she is about to walk towards the marina when the sound of a familiar laugh echoed through the salty air — it was distinct, unique, and margo knew exactly who it was before turning around for visual verification. dark sunglasses allow her to fixate on target inconspicuously while walking towards the group of women who were enjoying all that edgartown had to offer in the summer heat.

“tipper?” she asks knowingly with smirk, hand extended upward to waive at some of the other women whom she had met before.

BUT IT CAME AT A COST OF THEIR SOULS. THEY WERE NOT ONLY AT HIS BECK AND CALL, BUT HIS MERCY.

Golden blonde hair fell naturally on her shoulders. The ocean air of Beechwood Island coated her scents. The sunset was so beautiful. She loved this life, loved the summer time with the Liars and her family. This was everything that she imagined. Her family managed to keep her shielded from the deeds of the game. Yet, it was the year she was finally old enough to play. They were summoned to play randomly. She heard the games can be violent, the sacrifices were intense alone and often closed her eyes and felt immoral.

THIS ENTIRE EXPERIENCE MADE CADENCE SINCLAIR EASTMAN DESPERATELY ILL.

❝ Can't I just have another year? I don't think I'm ready for the game. ❞

❝ Nan doesn't even compare to your Yankee charm. ❞

The voice was easily recognizable and her thoughts gathered again. A wave of sadness hit and a tear fell down her cheek, regret that she lives with coming up once again.     [ WHY NOW SHOW UP? ]     ❝ Gran, I didn't   —   I didn't mean   ... ❞     Words couldn't even be mustered up. Shame hit her like a brike wall as she thinks of all the memories that became ash with the burning of Clairmont.     ❝ Everything is gone because of me. ❞     There was a pause, a tilt in her head before Cadence continued,     ❝ The Liars are dead because of me. ❞     She clutches the Black Pearls that cling to her neck, worn in moments when needing guidance and support.     [ COULD THIS BE WHY SHE'S HERE? ]     After all, the anniversary of the fire was approaching.     ❝ If I'm not the villain, then who is? ❞

the outdoor exercise she can do now. well, well, well: it looks like the new workout set she purchased from grace&co and her tried and true pair of puma's will have their work cut out for them if she's going to settle these ailments before the summer. there's not a second to be wasted, penny thinks, as she lets herself soundlessly in the front door. as if she never left at all. had nowhere to go and nobody to see, & nobody would know it either ...

GETTING AWAY WITH SNEAKING OUT OF HER OWN HAIR? ( oh, penny, what a thrill! )

penny moves quietly through the house & into the kitchen, with a subconscious grin ( and vaguely unkempt hair ) —UNTIL SHE LOCKS EYES WITH HER MOTHER. it takes only a second to refine her expression into nothing other than gentle surprise to see her rather than a guilty contortion of shock. ❝   good morning, mother. you're up early.   ❞ not: i didn't know you'd be awake. no, that would be a in less words, an admission; culpability in her own name.

Two years had passed since her departure. During the time, Carrie moved out of the city, changed her number, dropped out of college and began a jewelry line. She also continued these destructive behaviors where some days even she did not know if she would survive. Aunt Margo required monthly check - ins after the first year. It was the only way to keep the family out of her business. Carrie kept herself far, unaware of the lives her parents and sisters were living. It was easier than knowing as she felt extreme guilt for being away. Carrie missed the family but breaking away from the drugs was harder.

Her first rehab ( Carrie didn’t know it would be the first of many ) and it was time for summer. Beechwood Island was stressful, memories she was not sure she was ready to face. Yet, this was their life. It was home and both foreign and familiar. Carrie was not sure what to expect with her unexpected return. She missed the smell of the salty air, her family and most importantly, her old life. Carrie knocks lightly on Clairmont’s door. She wasn’t sure what or even who to expect to open the door but when it was her mother, Carrie’s heart sank for a moment.

In the two years Carrie was gone, her mother had aged. She looked together but tired and sad. It was breaking her heart. “ Hi. ” There was a crack in her voice. It was a little deeper, matured and raspy. Maybe it was the age of drugs that changed Carrie but never did she think of the impact it would have on others. Her past behaviors were selfish and now she lives in agony and resentment. “ Hi, mom. ” It slipped off so easily as if it were the first time she ever said it. How she missed this.