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tamingthemuseTitle: Sunday Morning
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: Castaway
Warnings: No pairings, just a character piece.
Rating: T, for swearing and mentions of drug abuse.
Summary: Faith’s childhood Sunday mornings.
(A/N: Please give concrit feedback, It'll help tons *hugs*)
Faith hates Sunday morning cartoons. When she hears the care bears count down she grinds her teeth together and flings the remote at the TV.
Fucking care bears! Fucking old classic cartoons!
She hates them, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t subject herself to watching them. Every Sunday she gets up early and flicks the TV onto channel 12, where the old cartoons play from 8 to 10am. She watches My Little Pony, He-Man and Muppet Babies back to back.
She’ll sit on the bed and sneer at the shity TV in her even shiter motel room and watch the cartoons that remind her of a childhood she can’t seem to forget.
Sometimes she’ll have those potato chips she’s been saving for when she’s really hungry and sometimes she waits. Often she’ll hear screams from the other rooms but she doesn’t pay it any mind…it’s not like she hasn’t heard it all before.
She is always alone though…not that she needs anyone—hell, she’s made it this far on her own, she doesn’t need anyone cramping her style.
If anyone asked her why she watched them, she shrugged and tell them to mind their own fucking business…no one needed to know her shit. But the truth was they reminded her of her mother.
Her mom would get high and sit on the other side of the couch, watching cartoons with her. Well, not really watching, more like zoning out as she mumbled about shadows and the walls moving.
Faith remembers that she’d glance at her mother from time to time and wondered if all moms looked so dead. Once in a while her mother would turn to her and whisper, “I’m sorry, Faith.” She’d never reply back and her mother would quickly forget she was even there.
They aren’t the best memories but---
But, it was the only time they sat in a room alone together.
It was her mom’s only attempt at mother-daughter bonding.
Care Bears was always the last show to air and by then her mom was always pasted out. Young Faith would watch the show alone, with her mother’s loud snoring in the background.
Faith’s Care Bear count down was the snores of her drugged up mom…and still to this day, she swears she can still hear her mother’s snoring whenever the song comes on.
But Faith knows it’s all in her mind.
It happened when she was ten years old…Just before the credits began to roll and that god damn song came on…
This is the care bear’s count down
5,4,3,2,1…
Her mother’s snores stopped…And even though she was too young to understand what was happening, she did.
When the police arrived to take away the body, Faith had asked the young police officer if she’d watch cartoons with her the next Sunday morning….
The cop had said yes, but Faith knew it was a lie.
Faith hates Sunday morning cartoons, because every Sunday morning in her shity little motel room, in the shity little town of Sunnyhell, she wishes that her mother was there with her…she wishes for one more Sunday with her mom...one she’ll never get.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: Castaway
Warnings: No pairings, just a character piece.
Rating: T, for swearing and mentions of drug abuse.
Summary: Faith’s childhood Sunday mornings.
(A/N: Please give concrit feedback, It'll help tons *hugs*)
Faith hates Sunday morning cartoons. When she hears the care bears count down she grinds her teeth together and flings the remote at the TV.
Fucking care bears! Fucking old classic cartoons!
She hates them, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t subject herself to watching them. Every Sunday she gets up early and flicks the TV onto channel 12, where the old cartoons play from 8 to 10am. She watches My Little Pony, He-Man and Muppet Babies back to back.
She’ll sit on the bed and sneer at the shity TV in her even shiter motel room and watch the cartoons that remind her of a childhood she can’t seem to forget.
Sometimes she’ll have those potato chips she’s been saving for when she’s really hungry and sometimes she waits. Often she’ll hear screams from the other rooms but she doesn’t pay it any mind…it’s not like she hasn’t heard it all before.
She is always alone though…not that she needs anyone—hell, she’s made it this far on her own, she doesn’t need anyone cramping her style.
If anyone asked her why she watched them, she shrugged and tell them to mind their own fucking business…no one needed to know her shit. But the truth was they reminded her of her mother.
Her mom would get high and sit on the other side of the couch, watching cartoons with her. Well, not really watching, more like zoning out as she mumbled about shadows and the walls moving.
Faith remembers that she’d glance at her mother from time to time and wondered if all moms looked so dead. Once in a while her mother would turn to her and whisper, “I’m sorry, Faith.” She’d never reply back and her mother would quickly forget she was even there.
They aren’t the best memories but---
But, it was the only time they sat in a room alone together.
It was her mom’s only attempt at mother-daughter bonding.
Care Bears was always the last show to air and by then her mom was always pasted out. Young Faith would watch the show alone, with her mother’s loud snoring in the background.
Faith’s Care Bear count down was the snores of her drugged up mom…and still to this day, she swears she can still hear her mother’s snoring whenever the song comes on.
But Faith knows it’s all in her mind.
It happened when she was ten years old…Just before the credits began to roll and that god damn song came on…
This is the care bear’s count down
5,4,3,2,1…
Her mother’s snores stopped…And even though she was too young to understand what was happening, she did.
When the police arrived to take away the body, Faith had asked the young police officer if she’d watch cartoons with her the next Sunday morning….
The cop had said yes, but Faith knew it was a lie.
Faith hates Sunday morning cartoons, because every Sunday morning in her shity little motel room, in the shity little town of Sunnyhell, she wishes that her mother was there with her…she wishes for one more Sunday with her mom...one she’ll never get.
