Fic: the garden that you planted
Sep. 7th, 2011 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbancateTitle: the garden that you planted
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Character: Jenna Sommers
Rating: PG
Summary: for this prompt: "Jenna - all I've known is that there is an end then you can begin again" at the TVD Comment Fic-a-Thon
Notes: Apparently, of late, I have been pondering life and death and mortality and all that happy stuff.
You never think it will happen to you.
Okay, that's not true. You think about it. Staying up late watching marathons of Law & Order (you prefer your murder with a personal touch, the mind of a serial killer is a place you prefer not to peek into), reading the latest paperback thriller. It's all chilling and thrilling and a little scary after midnight, but you are young and you only reach a fingertip across the cold metal of that mental gate.
Your sister and her husband die in a freak car accident. Drown, actually. And your niece barely survives.
And suddenly your are an adult. You don't know when that happened.
Again, an untruth. You know exactly when it happened. You become an adult when you become responsible for lives other than your own.
And you think about it a little more - find the latch and let the metal swing open - think about death, about dying, about the possibility (inevitability) of your own death.
Still, though, as a far-off thing. You're busy living, scrambling, taking care of two teenagers, messing it up on a regular basis, but giving it your best, and the detective shows you don't have time for anymore are always in the big city. Never in a sweet, small place like Mystic Falls.
Then, you don't understand it, but your sweet little town is proving you wrong. People are disappearing or dying mysteriously, and you're smart enough enough to see it coming closer, creeping up on your family, on your life. But you don't really know.
In the late dark, alone in your bed, you think about it more than you ever have before. You become familiar with the wrought-iron gate in your mind - every curling Victorian detail, the weight of it swinging open, glimpses of the path beyond, hanging branches obscuring the view.
It's a stupid (painful) accident, and you almost die. But you don't. And you laugh with relief and chagrin and remind yourself that you are young. And you try to forget about the gate.
But then there's a web around you, a tangle of confusion you get caught up in, and you don't know which thread to pull on to unravel it all, only that you are being lied to, that something is not what it seems. You become accustomed to a certain level of unease, of anxiety, and you try not to turn it inward because you have responsibilities.
But the gate is there. And when you close your eyes, it opens for you.
And the truth will set you free. The truth is a terrible weight and a relief. You are not crazy, you're just somehow suddenly in the middle of the unthinkable.
Except, you've thought of this. This outcome, it has been your companion for longer than you were aware of it.
It's stupid, stupidly unfair, and you are trapped. And when you die, you wonder if this is the meaning of responsibility, of love.
It hurts, hurts. But you find the gate. And there is a garden beyond it. Your eyes close against night and flame and in the garden the sun is shining.
You always think it will happen to you, you just never believe it. Until it does.
Fandom: The Vampire Diaries
Character: Jenna Sommers
Rating: PG
Summary: for this prompt: "Jenna - all I've known is that there is an end then you can begin again" at the TVD Comment Fic-a-Thon
Notes: Apparently, of late, I have been pondering life and death and mortality and all that happy stuff.
You never think it will happen to you.
Okay, that's not true. You think about it. Staying up late watching marathons of Law & Order (you prefer your murder with a personal touch, the mind of a serial killer is a place you prefer not to peek into), reading the latest paperback thriller. It's all chilling and thrilling and a little scary after midnight, but you are young and you only reach a fingertip across the cold metal of that mental gate.
Your sister and her husband die in a freak car accident. Drown, actually. And your niece barely survives.
And suddenly your are an adult. You don't know when that happened.
Again, an untruth. You know exactly when it happened. You become an adult when you become responsible for lives other than your own.
And you think about it a little more - find the latch and let the metal swing open - think about death, about dying, about the possibility (inevitability) of your own death.
Still, though, as a far-off thing. You're busy living, scrambling, taking care of two teenagers, messing it up on a regular basis, but giving it your best, and the detective shows you don't have time for anymore are always in the big city. Never in a sweet, small place like Mystic Falls.
Then, you don't understand it, but your sweet little town is proving you wrong. People are disappearing or dying mysteriously, and you're smart enough enough to see it coming closer, creeping up on your family, on your life. But you don't really know.
In the late dark, alone in your bed, you think about it more than you ever have before. You become familiar with the wrought-iron gate in your mind - every curling Victorian detail, the weight of it swinging open, glimpses of the path beyond, hanging branches obscuring the view.
It's a stupid (painful) accident, and you almost die. But you don't. And you laugh with relief and chagrin and remind yourself that you are young. And you try to forget about the gate.
But then there's a web around you, a tangle of confusion you get caught up in, and you don't know which thread to pull on to unravel it all, only that you are being lied to, that something is not what it seems. You become accustomed to a certain level of unease, of anxiety, and you try not to turn it inward because you have responsibilities.
But the gate is there. And when you close your eyes, it opens for you.
And the truth will set you free. The truth is a terrible weight and a relief. You are not crazy, you're just somehow suddenly in the middle of the unthinkable.
Except, you've thought of this. This outcome, it has been your companion for longer than you were aware of it.
It's stupid, stupidly unfair, and you are trapped. And when you die, you wonder if this is the meaning of responsibility, of love.
It hurts, hurts. But you find the gate. And there is a garden beyond it. Your eyes close against night and flame and in the garden the sun is shining.
You always think it will happen to you, you just never believe it. Until it does.
