Post by Jacob Sullivan on Oct 28, 2011 19:33:02 GMT -8
October 8th, 10:08pm
One year. One year ago, she left me with nothing but her memory… Jake stumbled into his apartment and cast a glance at his spare bedroom. He’d been drinking already, trying to build up his courage. He made his way to the room and put a gold band on his left ring finger, fumbling it in his drunken nerves. A hip flask, nearly full of whiskey, was ready to shield him from the dangers he faced. Inside the room, he ignored the various trinkets and baubles he collected over the years of thievery. Instead, he stared at the closet door, painted white. Dare he? Dare he open the closet and see the most treasured and most cursed items in his ‘collection’? He staggered over to the sliding door and placed a hesitant hand on the wood. So much pain lay inches away. Sully fell to his knees and sat there, staring into infinity. He rested his head on the wood, closed his eyes, and remembered her.
--September, 1995—
“Hello! My name’s Jacob. What’s your name?”
“I’m Amelia Kittiwick, but my friends call me Kitty. What d’you think it’ll be like?” She was blonde, green eyed, and gorgeous even at eleven. Fast friends through school, they graduated from Ravenclaw together and wound up going separate ways in their careers. He, to Gringotts, she to the Ministry. The corresponded. Then it happened. The end of the wizarding world. Or, the end for Muggleborns like them, however.
She was always so alive, he remembered, turning from the white door to the other things in the room. In the dim light filtering in from his office, gold glinted and reminded him of her hair. Its hue put the metal to tawdry shame. The emeralds were fake compared to her eyes. They were perfect together…her fiery passion and his collectedness. He wished that he had kept the letters she had sent him. He wished a thousand times to return to that happy moment. He took a swig from his flask of whiskey, half way drained, and winced when the memories of the schism arose. Bittersweet, the whiskey and memories burned into his soul.
--February 2009—
He was fleeing, and the only person he could think of was HER. She had sent him an owl not a week ago, saying she was taking a holiday in America. Did it have something to do with this? Had she known that muggleborns would be persecuted? He was scared and running for Egypt, where he had contacts. They’d help him.
On a boat from Greece, he penned a reply to her.
“Kitty, darling, this tragedy has given me a tongue that I can’t keep still anymore. I love you. I will write more when I am settled, and we can regroup later. Much love, Jake”
Later turned into him introducing her to a new lifestyle. She was entranced with the idea of fighting back. She was the one who coined the name Syndicate, and she who urged them to haunt London.
Back to the door now, he stared at the unforgiving ceiling. She made this possible. Through her urging, she was the one who dreamed more hungrily than anyone else. Perhaps she wasn’t credited with it, but her laughing voice put the whisper of an idea into more hearts than could be known. God, I miss her… Jacob took another drink and tried to let go of reality.
--January 2010--
She’d been gone on a mission for weeks now, and promised to bring back vital information. Still, Jacob wasn’t comfortable with the idea of his new fiancé being in trouble like this. She was somehow more delicate than before he had proposed. He’d always been concerned for her safety. He was concerned for ALL of his operatives safety. But he never worried. Not like this…
A door opened behind him and he turned, seeing her pale face. Her green eyes drank in the sight of him, and his blue her. He rushed to embrace her, but was surprised by her retiring attitude. Gently he stroked her face. He tried comforting her with a smile.
“You’re back safe, Kit…Thank God. Thank God!” He embraced her and felt her sob.
“Sully…” She was the only one who called him that, and the odd vulnerability in her voice caught him off guard.
“Sully…I’m pregnant.” She turned her eyes from his and placed a hand protectively on her abdomen. He was baffled for a moment, unsure that he heard her correctly. She was pregnant? He’d been raised in a religious family and in matters of sex believed it better to wait until marriage. Amelia had the same views, which meant…it wasn't his. A tumble of thoughts clattered in his brain and he tried to make sense of what was happening. Something must have happened on her mission. But she came back to him. But she was unfaithful! But she came back. He stopped the raucous thoughts and decided on the only acceptable choice he could make: He embraced her, and their child.
“Well then, I get to be a husband and a daddy then, eh? I love you, Amelia. And our child.”
Her smile was all that he needed.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. Drunkenly, Sully stood and opened the closet and stared at the crib filled with unused toys. A stuffed unicorn, a blanket embroidered with hippogryphs, and the tiny infant clothing. A shameful layer of dust coated the items. Jake wiped a tear from his face and picked up the unicorn. Cuddling it, he slumped against the unused crib and cried for her.
--October 8th, 2010--
“Hold on, Kitty…Mediwizards are on the way, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine!” He was talking to himself more than his straining fiancé. Their child was coming into the world! He was going to be a father! Nervous excitement had him babbling and fretting over details. The mediwitch finally arrived and began helping the expectant mother.
For hours, it seemed, the ordeal drug onward.
Jacob grew worried as the morning crept towards evening and the mediwitch’s voice became less soothing and more stressed. Kitty’s screams became more frantic, and then began fading. The rest of the night was a blur of stress, pain, and trauma. Five minutes ‘til midnight, she was pronounced dead, and the baby stillborn.
Kitty Sullivan and Samuel Reese Sullivan were buried with honors overlooking the City of Shadows, beneath one of the largest glowing mushroom clusters in the area. Eternally lit, eternally in darkness, they rested.
Jake held his vigil beneath the empty crib. His unused wedding band glinted on his finger, and he waited out the night with an empty whisky flask.
One year. One year ago, she left me with nothing but her memory… Jake stumbled into his apartment and cast a glance at his spare bedroom. He’d been drinking already, trying to build up his courage. He made his way to the room and put a gold band on his left ring finger, fumbling it in his drunken nerves. A hip flask, nearly full of whiskey, was ready to shield him from the dangers he faced. Inside the room, he ignored the various trinkets and baubles he collected over the years of thievery. Instead, he stared at the closet door, painted white. Dare he? Dare he open the closet and see the most treasured and most cursed items in his ‘collection’? He staggered over to the sliding door and placed a hesitant hand on the wood. So much pain lay inches away. Sully fell to his knees and sat there, staring into infinity. He rested his head on the wood, closed his eyes, and remembered her.
--September, 1995—
“Hello! My name’s Jacob. What’s your name?”
“I’m Amelia Kittiwick, but my friends call me Kitty. What d’you think it’ll be like?” She was blonde, green eyed, and gorgeous even at eleven. Fast friends through school, they graduated from Ravenclaw together and wound up going separate ways in their careers. He, to Gringotts, she to the Ministry. The corresponded. Then it happened. The end of the wizarding world. Or, the end for Muggleborns like them, however.
She was always so alive, he remembered, turning from the white door to the other things in the room. In the dim light filtering in from his office, gold glinted and reminded him of her hair. Its hue put the metal to tawdry shame. The emeralds were fake compared to her eyes. They were perfect together…her fiery passion and his collectedness. He wished that he had kept the letters she had sent him. He wished a thousand times to return to that happy moment. He took a swig from his flask of whiskey, half way drained, and winced when the memories of the schism arose. Bittersweet, the whiskey and memories burned into his soul.
--February 2009—
He was fleeing, and the only person he could think of was HER. She had sent him an owl not a week ago, saying she was taking a holiday in America. Did it have something to do with this? Had she known that muggleborns would be persecuted? He was scared and running for Egypt, where he had contacts. They’d help him.
On a boat from Greece, he penned a reply to her.
“Kitty, darling, this tragedy has given me a tongue that I can’t keep still anymore. I love you. I will write more when I am settled, and we can regroup later. Much love, Jake”
Later turned into him introducing her to a new lifestyle. She was entranced with the idea of fighting back. She was the one who coined the name Syndicate, and she who urged them to haunt London.
Back to the door now, he stared at the unforgiving ceiling. She made this possible. Through her urging, she was the one who dreamed more hungrily than anyone else. Perhaps she wasn’t credited with it, but her laughing voice put the whisper of an idea into more hearts than could be known. God, I miss her… Jacob took another drink and tried to let go of reality.
--January 2010--
She’d been gone on a mission for weeks now, and promised to bring back vital information. Still, Jacob wasn’t comfortable with the idea of his new fiancé being in trouble like this. She was somehow more delicate than before he had proposed. He’d always been concerned for her safety. He was concerned for ALL of his operatives safety. But he never worried. Not like this…
A door opened behind him and he turned, seeing her pale face. Her green eyes drank in the sight of him, and his blue her. He rushed to embrace her, but was surprised by her retiring attitude. Gently he stroked her face. He tried comforting her with a smile.
“You’re back safe, Kit…Thank God. Thank God!” He embraced her and felt her sob.
“Sully…” She was the only one who called him that, and the odd vulnerability in her voice caught him off guard.
“Sully…I’m pregnant.” She turned her eyes from his and placed a hand protectively on her abdomen. He was baffled for a moment, unsure that he heard her correctly. She was pregnant? He’d been raised in a religious family and in matters of sex believed it better to wait until marriage. Amelia had the same views, which meant…it wasn't his. A tumble of thoughts clattered in his brain and he tried to make sense of what was happening. Something must have happened on her mission. But she came back to him. But she was unfaithful! But she came back. He stopped the raucous thoughts and decided on the only acceptable choice he could make: He embraced her, and their child.
“Well then, I get to be a husband and a daddy then, eh? I love you, Amelia. And our child.”
Her smile was all that he needed.
He couldn’t stand it anymore. Drunkenly, Sully stood and opened the closet and stared at the crib filled with unused toys. A stuffed unicorn, a blanket embroidered with hippogryphs, and the tiny infant clothing. A shameful layer of dust coated the items. Jake wiped a tear from his face and picked up the unicorn. Cuddling it, he slumped against the unused crib and cried for her.
--October 8th, 2010--
“Hold on, Kitty…Mediwizards are on the way, we’ll be fine, we’ll be fine!” He was talking to himself more than his straining fiancé. Their child was coming into the world! He was going to be a father! Nervous excitement had him babbling and fretting over details. The mediwitch finally arrived and began helping the expectant mother.
For hours, it seemed, the ordeal drug onward.
Jacob grew worried as the morning crept towards evening and the mediwitch’s voice became less soothing and more stressed. Kitty’s screams became more frantic, and then began fading. The rest of the night was a blur of stress, pain, and trauma. Five minutes ‘til midnight, she was pronounced dead, and the baby stillborn.
Kitty Sullivan and Samuel Reese Sullivan were buried with honors overlooking the City of Shadows, beneath one of the largest glowing mushroom clusters in the area. Eternally lit, eternally in darkness, they rested.
Jake held his vigil beneath the empty crib. His unused wedding band glinted on his finger, and he waited out the night with an empty whisky flask.