TWD - Lucille's Diary or How I Met Your Father
Mar 29, 2018 6:00:59 GMT -8
Hollywood Heidi, Lady Lee-o, and 2 more like this
Post by DarkSideCookie on Mar 29, 2018 6:00:59 GMT -8
Lucille's Diary
- How I met your father -
- How I met your father -
Based on: The Walking Dead / MFC's The Walking Dead RPG - Negan/Ingrid/Lucille past storyline
Rated: PG
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Romance
Summary: The content of Lucille's diary, found by her step-sister Ingrid two weeks after Lucille had died from cancer in the middle of the zombie apocalypse starting around. A few years before, Lucille had started to write down the story of how she met Negan, in which she directly addresses their lost unborn daughter. During this portrayal of her past and the current events happening outside of her storytelling, she finds herself on an emotional rollercoaster.
The photograph of an ultrasound is attached to the first page of the diary.
Prologue
Yes, he had been there on that evening of my arrival. Same bar, same area, only one table farther from ours. The doctor said it would be a good idea to write down my pain. That it would help me to come to terms with my loss. To accept it and to bind it like a cover does with the pages of a book.
He is wrong. But I do it anyway.
So, now I'm sitting here, staring down at this blank page, as blank as my head. I still don't get the good in this. This doctor, he speaks as he would know me. As he would know who I am. Does his reading of all those books about human psychology make him?
It does not.
Well, what am I doing here? To philosophize does help just as little as it does to write down my pain. So, I've got an idea. Instead of my pain, I'm going to write down my happiness, because happiness is the only thing that is able to help. Nothing can really heal someone's wounds, but something can make them less hurting.
Love.
I wish you could have met your father. I wish you would have had only one moment on earth to see how much he loved you, even though your little eyes would have become overwhelmed with everything new around. You probably would have cried. And he would have held you in his big coarse hands, whispering...
I've no idea what he would have whispered to you, as everything he says is like one big surprise, but I can tell, you would have loved him right from the start of your little life.
You want to hear how we've met each other? No Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet story, but one of a start of something wonderful. The happiest story I could tell. So, listen...
Maybe I should start from an earlier day though. A day long before I finally got to talk to the man that made me choose the rockier road of life.
I wasn't aware of that for a long time myself, but the breathtaking truth is that we've already met before. And that not only once.
Now where I write this down, I somehow feel the need to correct my former statement as for this might not be kind of a Shakespear story. For me, it has indeed the potential to get called a story of great love. But then, I'm very sure that every one of us could tell such a story, once we found who we call Mr. or Mrs. Right. A story that doesn't have to be perfect, but a story of something great.
Our story.
I wouldn't go so far as to say it was fate that brought us together though. Maybe I would have if we had been aware of all these blind meetings right from the start, but then it wouldn't have given us all those light-bulb moments we had experienced whenever we were facing the fact of another of our earlier meetings.
So I prefer to call it our wonderful little coincidences.
Let me try to go back to our first wonderful little coincidence. A try that is because I never had a look at them on a timeline.
Okay, I'm still thinking, catching myself smiling about every one of them, while I try to sequence them. Is this progress after all? I don't remember when I was smiling last time.
Oh, I finally know where to start! And if my memory is right, I'll go back to a day two years before that date scenario I've mentioned in the beginning. And yet again my lips are raised to a smile. What would I give to see the excitement on your lovely little face when you hear this story for the first time? Give me just a little moment to close my eyes and to imagine...
He is wrong. But I do it anyway.
So, now I'm sitting here, staring down at this blank page, as blank as my head. I still don't get the good in this. This doctor, he speaks as he would know me. As he would know who I am. Does his reading of all those books about human psychology make him?
It does not.
Well, what am I doing here? To philosophize does help just as little as it does to write down my pain. So, I've got an idea. Instead of my pain, I'm going to write down my happiness, because happiness is the only thing that is able to help. Nothing can really heal someone's wounds, but something can make them less hurting.
Love.
I wish you could have met your father. I wish you would have had only one moment on earth to see how much he loved you, even though your little eyes would have become overwhelmed with everything new around. You probably would have cried. And he would have held you in his big coarse hands, whispering...
I've no idea what he would have whispered to you, as everything he says is like one big surprise, but I can tell, you would have loved him right from the start of your little life.
You want to hear how we've met each other? No Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet story, but one of a start of something wonderful. The happiest story I could tell. So, listen...
***
Chapter One
I was on a date. In a restaurant. Not with your father, but with a boy everyone thought was perfect. Kind, polite and even nice-looking. Maybe he was. But he was not for me. But well, as young as I was back at that time, how should I've known what was best for me?
I didn't. So I gave it a try. And who knows? If that hadn't been the day I first talked to someone probably no one thought was perfect, I might have married that other guy. I might live another life today. A life easier and with less arguing about the decisions I've made.
But then I would never have experienced what it feels like to love someone absolute unconditionally and get back the same. But most of all, wouldn't I be who I am today and wouldn't write down these lines to you.
I didn't. So I gave it a try. And who knows? If that hadn't been the day I first talked to someone probably no one thought was perfect, I might have married that other guy. I might live another life today. A life easier and with less arguing about the decisions I've made.
But then I would never have experienced what it feels like to love someone absolute unconditionally and get back the same. But most of all, wouldn't I be who I am today and wouldn't write down these lines to you.
Maybe I should start from an earlier day though. A day long before I finally got to talk to the man that made me choose the rockier road of life.
I wasn't aware of that for a long time myself, but the breathtaking truth is that we've already met before. And that not only once.
Now where I write this down, I somehow feel the need to correct my former statement as for this might not be kind of a Shakespear story. For me, it has indeed the potential to get called a story of great love. But then, I'm very sure that every one of us could tell such a story, once we found who we call Mr. or Mrs. Right. A story that doesn't have to be perfect, but a story of something great.
Our story.
I wouldn't go so far as to say it was fate that brought us together though. Maybe I would have if we had been aware of all these blind meetings right from the start, but then it wouldn't have given us all those light-bulb moments we had experienced whenever we were facing the fact of another of our earlier meetings.
So I prefer to call it our wonderful little coincidences.
Let me try to go back to our first wonderful little coincidence. A try that is because I never had a look at them on a timeline.
Okay, I'm still thinking, catching myself smiling about every one of them, while I try to sequence them. Is this progress after all? I don't remember when I was smiling last time.
Oh, I finally know where to start! And if my memory is right, I'll go back to a day two years before that date scenario I've mentioned in the beginning. And yet again my lips are raised to a smile. What would I give to see the excitement on your lovely little face when you hear this story for the first time? Give me just a little moment to close my eyes and to imagine...
***
I was 18, a freshman in college.
Oh wow, I can't believe myself how much time had passed since then. I remember as it was yesterday when at one hand I was so very excited about moving out from our parental home to go to college, and on the other hand felt frightened and even a little sad about just the same. Because it meant to spend less time with my sisters, especially with Ingrid.
Oh, you would have loved your aunt, just as she would have loved you.
I still do miss her. Hardly a day goes by without thinking of her. But yet, I never felt brave enough to give her a call. Am I afraid to get spurned another time?
Right now I imagine you to tug at my sleeve and ask me why aunt Ingrid never comes to visit. Actually, I wouldn't know what to answer to your innocent child eyes.
Maybe with age, our disagreements have changed as well. I should finally overcome my fear and give her that long overdue call, don't you think so? I'm going to add it to that list the doctor has made me create. First thing tomorrow morning.
Okay, back to my story. Back to teenage me.
Oh wow, I can't believe myself how much time had passed since then. I remember as it was yesterday when at one hand I was so very excited about moving out from our parental home to go to college, and on the other hand felt frightened and even a little sad about just the same. Because it meant to spend less time with my sisters, especially with Ingrid.
Oh, you would have loved your aunt, just as she would have loved you.
I still do miss her. Hardly a day goes by without thinking of her. But yet, I never felt brave enough to give her a call. Am I afraid to get spurned another time?
Right now I imagine you to tug at my sleeve and ask me why aunt Ingrid never comes to visit. Actually, I wouldn't know what to answer to your innocent child eyes.
Maybe with age, our disagreements have changed as well. I should finally overcome my fear and give her that long overdue call, don't you think so? I'm going to add it to that list the doctor has made me create. First thing tomorrow morning.
Okay, back to my story. Back to teenage me.
***
"Hi, I'm Alex."
A black-haired punk girl was greeting me already at the door sill. So, this girl would be my roommate.
Of course, I wouldn't have afforded to rent a whole apartment all by myself back at that time. And I wouldn't have wanted my father and my stepmother to send me money, even though I knew they would have if I had asked for it.
Anyways, I never had a real problem to make new friends, just always felt my best friends were my family at home, everything I needed.
Parking my luggage in the little entry area, I stretched out my hand to welcome Alex.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Lucille."
"A beautiful name for a nice-looking girl."
I let out a shy chuckle, knowing that my new roommate would probably make me feel less frightened and sad about this new chapter of my life. About this new place that I would call home for the next few years, if everything went well. I wondered though if It ever will feel like coming home whenever I turn the keys after another day of lectures.
In fact, Alex had managed to make me forget about my worries already that same evening.
"Wanna take a puff?", she suddenly asked.
I admit, that I had said yes to the booze she offered me before, primarily to not act too much like a party pooper and to drink a toast to the start of our common household, but no way would I say yes to any other kind of drugs.
And I don't just say so because I'm your mother.
"No, thanks. I'm not a smoker."
Alex gave me a blink before she took another pull on the cigarette in her hand. The smell of the exhaled smoke told me it was a good decision to have said no. I didn't blame her of course. We both were young and eager to try out new things. As for myself though I sometimes felt like I was the only one who didn't feel the need to try out things like that.
Sometimes I felt like I was an older and more prudent person inside a teenager's body. Maybe that, among other things, was the reason I've never dated someone up until then. The boys my age just seemed so immature to me, that I wasn't interested.
And yet another thing I don't just say because of our mother-daughter relationship.
Okay, at this point you may wonder what this has to do with your father.
Like I said, I haven't talked to him before a long time later, but this was the day we were close to first meet without knowing we were. Like eerie close.
If I was an observer watching the scene from a different perspective, it would have been one of these moments in which you inwardly freak out about the performer's moves. You'll understand what I mean as soon as I go on.
As I never really had drunk alcohol before, it didn't take long until I got my first-time experience of its effect. But other than my extroverted roommate I would have preferred to just sleep it off. Would have that was because she was way too fascinated by the fact that this had been a first-time experience to let me. And so I ended up consenting to leave the apartment with her to go out.
Yes, going out. Me, the probably most boring person my age.
To be fair, I had fun with Alex in this bar. An experience I wouldn't want to miss, but at some point, I started to feel more and more uncomfortable. Maybe that had been the time when the effect of the alcohol started to evaporate. Alex gave me the advice to knock down another drink whenever that happens, but I declined with thanks. Also with the upcoming fatigue, the former bar's thrilling events became unnerving all of a sudden.
The roaring people around, the noisy rattling of glasses and the air filling with a thick fog of smoke.
"I'm going to leave now, Alex."
I almost had to scream towards my drunken companion to drown all these sounds in the background.
"Are you sure you want to stay a little longer?"
"Don't worry about me, hun."
That was what she said, but I did worry.
I tried to ease myself though, as it was not my place to tell her what she shall do or not. Maybe I felt like I should because I was used to having to keep an eye on others. Back home I was the oldest of five sisters and felt responsible for them, which was never bothering me though. But that might be one of those other things I've mentioned before, that made me feel older and more prudent as I actually was.
"Okay, but take care of yourself, will you?", I added, trying not to sound too much like a caring mother.
"Sure, will do. Goodnight, Lucille."
"Goodnight."
Before I left the bar, I made one last stop for the restroom.
I can't say for sure, but for one little moment, it must have been only centimeters that were between your father and me, one heading for the women's restroom and one leaving from the men's.
A black-haired punk girl was greeting me already at the door sill. So, this girl would be my roommate.
Of course, I wouldn't have afforded to rent a whole apartment all by myself back at that time. And I wouldn't have wanted my father and my stepmother to send me money, even though I knew they would have if I had asked for it.
Anyways, I never had a real problem to make new friends, just always felt my best friends were my family at home, everything I needed.
Parking my luggage in the little entry area, I stretched out my hand to welcome Alex.
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Lucille."
"A beautiful name for a nice-looking girl."
I let out a shy chuckle, knowing that my new roommate would probably make me feel less frightened and sad about this new chapter of my life. About this new place that I would call home for the next few years, if everything went well. I wondered though if It ever will feel like coming home whenever I turn the keys after another day of lectures.
In fact, Alex had managed to make me forget about my worries already that same evening.
"Wanna take a puff?", she suddenly asked.
I admit, that I had said yes to the booze she offered me before, primarily to not act too much like a party pooper and to drink a toast to the start of our common household, but no way would I say yes to any other kind of drugs.
And I don't just say so because I'm your mother.
"No, thanks. I'm not a smoker."
Alex gave me a blink before she took another pull on the cigarette in her hand. The smell of the exhaled smoke told me it was a good decision to have said no. I didn't blame her of course. We both were young and eager to try out new things. As for myself though I sometimes felt like I was the only one who didn't feel the need to try out things like that.
Sometimes I felt like I was an older and more prudent person inside a teenager's body. Maybe that, among other things, was the reason I've never dated someone up until then. The boys my age just seemed so immature to me, that I wasn't interested.
And yet another thing I don't just say because of our mother-daughter relationship.
Okay, at this point you may wonder what this has to do with your father.
Like I said, I haven't talked to him before a long time later, but this was the day we were close to first meet without knowing we were. Like eerie close.
If I was an observer watching the scene from a different perspective, it would have been one of these moments in which you inwardly freak out about the performer's moves. You'll understand what I mean as soon as I go on.
As I never really had drunk alcohol before, it didn't take long until I got my first-time experience of its effect. But other than my extroverted roommate I would have preferred to just sleep it off. Would have that was because she was way too fascinated by the fact that this had been a first-time experience to let me. And so I ended up consenting to leave the apartment with her to go out.
Yes, going out. Me, the probably most boring person my age.
To be fair, I had fun with Alex in this bar. An experience I wouldn't want to miss, but at some point, I started to feel more and more uncomfortable. Maybe that had been the time when the effect of the alcohol started to evaporate. Alex gave me the advice to knock down another drink whenever that happens, but I declined with thanks. Also with the upcoming fatigue, the former bar's thrilling events became unnerving all of a sudden.
The roaring people around, the noisy rattling of glasses and the air filling with a thick fog of smoke.
"I'm going to leave now, Alex."
I almost had to scream towards my drunken companion to drown all these sounds in the background.
"Are you sure you want to stay a little longer?"
"Don't worry about me, hun."
That was what she said, but I did worry.
I tried to ease myself though, as it was not my place to tell her what she shall do or not. Maybe I felt like I should because I was used to having to keep an eye on others. Back home I was the oldest of five sisters and felt responsible for them, which was never bothering me though. But that might be one of those other things I've mentioned before, that made me feel older and more prudent as I actually was.
"Okay, but take care of yourself, will you?", I added, trying not to sound too much like a caring mother.
"Sure, will do. Goodnight, Lucille."
"Goodnight."
Before I left the bar, I made one last stop for the restroom.
I can't say for sure, but for one little moment, it must have been only centimeters that were between your father and me, one heading for the women's restroom and one leaving from the men's.
That was at least what we had worked out years later, when we accidentally bumped into Alex on a walk through the city, exchanging stories of our first days back in college. That had been by the way the first time she'd seen us as a couple.
Unfortunately, also the last time we've seen her again at all, as she had canceled her scholastics after some semesters to move to her boyfriend in Washington, which was the reason she had no idea that in the meantime I've hooked our mutual favorite teacher. Oh wow, that sounds so wrong, but well, you know what I mean.
And even though I had missed Alex like crazy for the rest of my college time, I felt so very happy for her that she finally had found her Mr. Right. Just like I had found mine.
But back to that first day in that bar.
So, while I had spent some minutes behind closed doors in the women's restroom, another coincidence happened back at the table I was sitting with Alex only moments before.
The following is just speculation due to your father's eventual statements and my roommate's vague memories of that evening, but I swear I literally freaked out when I've heard what had happened once I had left the bar, years later.
"Well, hello there.", Alex greeted with an amused giggle, when suddenly a man in leather jacket and extreme charming looks, placed himself in the third chair that hadn't been taken for the whole time of the evening.
I still can see myself sitting on the other chair, the one I've left only moments before, while I look up at this beautiful man, inwardly joining in my roommate's giggling about his little funny slip of confounding tables. But well, unfortunately, I haven't been there.
"Oh shit.", the man, at least ten years older than the freshman opposite him, uttered with a smirk, before he leaned a little forward to Alex, who already was all over the moon with him.
... Well, how could I've blamed her anyway?!
"Either my plain buddy had a real quick sex reversal, and let me add, a fucking successful one, or I just slipped up with the tables. How embarrassing!"
With another chuckle and the words "Enjoy the night" the man bowed out before flabbergasted-Alex could have said anything at all.
Of course, I'm not sure if these had been his exact words, but I can tell for sure it was something sort of. Also, I don't know if I would have had the guts to keep him from leaving, most certainly not, but this little coincidence definitely would have drawn my attention to your father so much earlier.
But despite all delays, I'm glad everything had happened exactly the way it did.
***