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voicemail]
Sep. 20th, 2037 06:44 pm
"Leave a message for Sally at the beep. Or text me."
text . voicemail . picture message . videochat
"Leave a message for Sally at the beep. Or text me."
text . voicemail . picture message . videochat
[from the prompt: Letter left behind by a character who is missing or dead to some other character.]
It's her bookmark. It's in the innermost pocket of her book bag. It's always near her. She always checks that it's still there on reflex. An envelope with her name scrawled across the front, and inside a letter. It's hers and it's always with her.
Sally has never been the sentimental type before, clinging onto reminders and objects, but this is different.
She doesn't know when he wrote it, because she still hasn't read it. She doesn't know what words he left her, what secrets of the world he felt he had to pass to her were he not there. She hasn't had the strength yet to read it. Losing him was hard enough, but reading his words would hurt too much, and she wasn't sure she had enough control over herself yet for that.
Colby never had much to his name either, but he had a safe. Harry told Sally about it in the days after Colby's death. He told her that Colby had wanted to make sure she got whatever was inside of it if he weren't around anymore.
Inside the safe had been enough provisions to make sure Sally survived without him at least for a few years, if not longer. Paperwork, and certain contacts that could help her in the future. And underneath it all had been the envelope. She remembered wanting to tear it open right then and pour over every word, but she hadn't been able to. Instead it got tucked into a pocket, and then carried around for months on end.
She still looks at it every day and questions if she should just open it, but she never does. A part of her thinks if she keeps putting it off his words will always be there waiting for her. She won't really have to say goodbye yet. She'll still have something about him to look forward to. She knows deep down that this doesn't make proper sense, but it's enough to hold her. For now, it's enough.
It's her bookmark. It's in the innermost pocket of her book bag. It's always near her. She always checks that it's still there on reflex. An envelope with her name scrawled across the front, and inside a letter. It's hers and it's always with her.
Sally has never been the sentimental type before, clinging onto reminders and objects, but this is different.
She doesn't know when he wrote it, because she still hasn't read it. She doesn't know what words he left her, what secrets of the world he felt he had to pass to her were he not there. She hasn't had the strength yet to read it. Losing him was hard enough, but reading his words would hurt too much, and she wasn't sure she had enough control over herself yet for that.
Colby never had much to his name either, but he had a safe. Harry told Sally about it in the days after Colby's death. He told her that Colby had wanted to make sure she got whatever was inside of it if he weren't around anymore.
Inside the safe had been enough provisions to make sure Sally survived without him at least for a few years, if not longer. Paperwork, and certain contacts that could help her in the future. And underneath it all had been the envelope. She remembered wanting to tear it open right then and pour over every word, but she hadn't been able to. Instead it got tucked into a pocket, and then carried around for months on end.
She still looks at it every day and questions if she should just open it, but she never does. A part of her thinks if she keeps putting it off his words will always be there waiting for her. She won't really have to say goodbye yet. She'll still have something about him to look forward to. She knows deep down that this doesn't make proper sense, but it's enough to hold her. For now, it's enough.
It's been a long day, but to be fair most days are long for Sally. Between getting up extra early to stop by the shop and start up coffee for the guys and bring them bagels ( because if left to their own devices they'd eat donuts every morning), going to school, and going to the shop after school...she wears herself thin. But she likes doing these things every day and wouldn't have it any other way.
Coffee has become a staple in her life and her diet. Sometimes she drinks coffee for dinner, which she can hear Colby fussing about in the back of her head every time. Still. There are very few hours in each day to do everything she needs to do and still have time for homework.
As is quite usual for her she is sitting at her favorite coffee shop around the corner from the shop tonight. It's a pleasant evening so she has grabbed a table outside and has all of her work spread across it. She's on her second cup of coffee and struggling to stay interested in her homework. It's not easy. Math bores her terribly. But she's trying to get it all done and do it well, because she made a promise to Colby that she'd be a good girl and do well in school.
So she's here. Trying. She kind of hopes someone will come by and give her a good excuse to be distracted, but truthfully she doesn't have a lot of friends. At least not many her own age. She's a bit quiet at school. Unfortunately this means little social life and little hope in having a valid distraction.
Coffee has become a staple in her life and her diet. Sometimes she drinks coffee for dinner, which she can hear Colby fussing about in the back of her head every time. Still. There are very few hours in each day to do everything she needs to do and still have time for homework.
As is quite usual for her she is sitting at her favorite coffee shop around the corner from the shop tonight. It's a pleasant evening so she has grabbed a table outside and has all of her work spread across it. She's on her second cup of coffee and struggling to stay interested in her homework. It's not easy. Math bores her terribly. But she's trying to get it all done and do it well, because she made a promise to Colby that she'd be a good girl and do well in school.
So she's here. Trying. She kind of hopes someone will come by and give her a good excuse to be distracted, but truthfully she doesn't have a lot of friends. At least not many her own age. She's a bit quiet at school. Unfortunately this means little social life and little hope in having a valid distraction.
No one knew what would happen when she turned sixteen. She could remember her father, but not clearly. She remembered seeing his wings once, but looking back she never knew for sure what he was. She herself could be anything. She didn't remember her mother, and she didn't know the rest of her family.
She grew up around an assortment of demons, angels, and supernaturals. None of which tried to sway her either way, and none of which had problems with each other. She wasn't sheltered. She knew that demons and angels were supposed to hate each other. She knew that everyone was supposed to stick to their own kind, but what if they couldn't? That's what they were. Misfits who didn't have a kind to stick with, and they took her in.
So as her sixteenth birthday approached they waited. Waited to see what would come of it.
He had never been very affectionate with her, but that night he held her hands in his. He sat with her as she screamed at the pain coursing through her body and didn't leave her for a moment.
It wasn't an easy year for them, but they made it through. Just as they always had. From the moment he found her and took her in, they made it through. He taught her all about cars and how to fix them, and in return she gave him a companion. A daughter. She loved him, and the day he died a piece of herself got lost. Everyone kept her around at the shop, they were still a family, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't there anymore and he never would be again.
Between her Calling and his death she struggled to keep her sanity and still attend school. It's what he wanted. He wanted her to make something of herself, more than he had. She told him again and again that he was someone to her, but it wasn't enough. He made her swear that no matter what, no matter how hard life got, she would do something with herself. And she intended to.
Now she spends her time between school and the shop. She likes to hang around and watch the guys work, and when they're not working on legal business they let her help out. She learned from the best after all.
She had a dad a long time ago, and she missed him terribly. But she also had a Colby for a little while, and it was incredible. She didn't tell him her name the day they met so he called her Sally. Mustang Sally. She let it stick.
A new name for a new life. A good life. He gave her a good life.
She grew up around an assortment of demons, angels, and supernaturals. None of which tried to sway her either way, and none of which had problems with each other. She wasn't sheltered. She knew that demons and angels were supposed to hate each other. She knew that everyone was supposed to stick to their own kind, but what if they couldn't? That's what they were. Misfits who didn't have a kind to stick with, and they took her in.
So as her sixteenth birthday approached they waited. Waited to see what would come of it.
He had never been very affectionate with her, but that night he held her hands in his. He sat with her as she screamed at the pain coursing through her body and didn't leave her for a moment.
It wasn't an easy year for them, but they made it through. Just as they always had. From the moment he found her and took her in, they made it through. He taught her all about cars and how to fix them, and in return she gave him a companion. A daughter. She loved him, and the day he died a piece of herself got lost. Everyone kept her around at the shop, they were still a family, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't there anymore and he never would be again.
Between her Calling and his death she struggled to keep her sanity and still attend school. It's what he wanted. He wanted her to make something of herself, more than he had. She told him again and again that he was someone to her, but it wasn't enough. He made her swear that no matter what, no matter how hard life got, she would do something with herself. And she intended to.
Now she spends her time between school and the shop. She likes to hang around and watch the guys work, and when they're not working on legal business they let her help out. She learned from the best after all.
She had a dad a long time ago, and she missed him terribly. But she also had a Colby for a little while, and it was incredible. She didn't tell him her name the day they met so he called her Sally. Mustang Sally. She let it stick.
A new name for a new life. A good life. He gave her a good life.
