((I love writing angst stories. And since I've been playing Harvest Moon TOT so often, I guess this was inevitable...I've never really TRUELY written a fanfic like this...But yeah. Akari (the main female character you can play; you have the option of choosing her name, but the character's actual name is Akari/Angela. Angela is the name for the european countries. Alright, I'll stop rambling now.))
"Ya can't really be serious?" She flicked the clump of ash on the gravel, my eyes following with it.
"I am...Mom, I have to do this. For him." I said, my words sounding so foreign.
"Ya could've made something of yerself. Be one o' them daughters that'd show the world an' stuff." Her southern accent suddenly sounding annoying.
"...I know."
My mother shook her head, looking back to my father. He was leaning on the porch rail, a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. He didn't look too pleased, but he probably didn't care anyway.
Neither of them did.
"Yer grandpop was a fool, ya know. A damn fool. He couldn't farm for the liffa' em'. I think that's why he up an' croaked." My father said, his accent even thicker now that alcohol flowed within his veins. Mother shook her head.
"Ya always favored grandpop over us, didn't ya?"
I was silent. In truth, yes. I loved him more than my parents. Much more. He cared. He loved. He nurtured. He took me in when things were rough in the city with my parents. I loved it out there in Waffle Town-the name was crazy, but it was a source of comfort. The people there were nice. But she didn't really know them all so well, except that one boy...
He was my sole confident when things got bad with my parents (then again, when didn't they? ) He had dreams. He gave me dreams.
And I was going to accomplish a dream he couldn't accomplish himself.
My memories of him were interrupted by a 'Ppft' coming from my drunkard father.
"Git the ******** outta ere'." My father said, when I didn't answer him back. My mother's hands were trembling as she took another inhale from her cigarette.
"We dun know, we dun know, we dun know what to do with ya..." She muttered, stuttering out words.
"You never did know what to do with me."
"Ange, that ain't true. It ain't. It really ain't. Now come back in an' have summa that tea I made. Then we're gonna talk civil-like about this thing 'bout yer grandpop leavin' his farm to ya...Lordy I'm gonna need a tequila after this..." She trailed off and turned around, her flip flops making slapping noises against the gravel and then onto the concrete of the front porch. She let the screen door bang close, it bouncing back then slamming itself again into the lock. I stood there, clutching my ticket to my destiny. Or rather-the boat leading me to my destiny.
...I don't think she was coming back to fetch me. I stared down at the dead embers of my mother's cigarette.
No, she wasn't going to come get me. Neither of them would.
Even though I was used to that kind of coldness from them...Part of me wished they'd come back. Say that they were wrong for being the way they are and what they do. I turned my back to the old and worn down town house, and adjusted the rucksack on my shoulder.
I ran for the docks...
And never looked back.
((So yeah, if you don't even know what the harvest moon games are, I suggest you get acquainted with them. Though they are addicting...They never really tell you what your past life was like, so alot of people make up fanfictions about them. And now its my turn. Enjoy.))
"Ya can't really be serious?" She flicked the clump of ash on the gravel, my eyes following with it.
"I am...Mom, I have to do this. For him." I said, my words sounding so foreign.
"Ya could've made something of yerself. Be one o' them daughters that'd show the world an' stuff." Her southern accent suddenly sounding annoying.
"...I know."
My mother shook her head, looking back to my father. He was leaning on the porch rail, a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. He didn't look too pleased, but he probably didn't care anyway.
Neither of them did.
"Yer grandpop was a fool, ya know. A damn fool. He couldn't farm for the liffa' em'. I think that's why he up an' croaked." My father said, his accent even thicker now that alcohol flowed within his veins. Mother shook her head.
"Ya always favored grandpop over us, didn't ya?"
I was silent. In truth, yes. I loved him more than my parents. Much more. He cared. He loved. He nurtured. He took me in when things were rough in the city with my parents. I loved it out there in Waffle Town-the name was crazy, but it was a source of comfort. The people there were nice. But she didn't really know them all so well, except that one boy...
He was my sole confident when things got bad with my parents (then again, when didn't they? ) He had dreams. He gave me dreams.
And I was going to accomplish a dream he couldn't accomplish himself.
My memories of him were interrupted by a 'Ppft' coming from my drunkard father.
"Git the ******** outta ere'." My father said, when I didn't answer him back. My mother's hands were trembling as she took another inhale from her cigarette.
"We dun know, we dun know, we dun know what to do with ya..." She muttered, stuttering out words.
"You never did know what to do with me."
"Ange, that ain't true. It ain't. It really ain't. Now come back in an' have summa that tea I made. Then we're gonna talk civil-like about this thing 'bout yer grandpop leavin' his farm to ya...Lordy I'm gonna need a tequila after this..." She trailed off and turned around, her flip flops making slapping noises against the gravel and then onto the concrete of the front porch. She let the screen door bang close, it bouncing back then slamming itself again into the lock. I stood there, clutching my ticket to my destiny. Or rather-the boat leading me to my destiny.
...I don't think she was coming back to fetch me. I stared down at the dead embers of my mother's cigarette.
No, she wasn't going to come get me. Neither of them would.
Even though I was used to that kind of coldness from them...Part of me wished they'd come back. Say that they were wrong for being the way they are and what they do. I turned my back to the old and worn down town house, and adjusted the rucksack on my shoulder.
I ran for the docks...
And never looked back.
((So yeah, if you don't even know what the harvest moon games are, I suggest you get acquainted with them. Though they are addicting...They never really tell you what your past life was like, so alot of people make up fanfictions about them. And now its my turn. Enjoy.))
