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Archive 9 / marked

On an ordinary Monday morning, a clock on a bedside table read 5:34 a.m. One minute before Cassandra Johnson’s alarm was set to go off. Blue eyes opened wide, a sigh escaping plump lips as freckled feet kicked at the blanket that only seemed to partially be covering half of her body. Barely enough time to sit up let alone stretch the alarm clock’s high shrill sound began to wail through the room. A yawn and Cassie sat up, her hands tiredly rubbed at her eyes to remove the last remaining evidence of sleep. Another sigh and she rested her chin on her knees, her attention falling on a bird nest where a bluejay had taken up residence. It flitted to and fro, chirping as a bird did and Cassie smiled as her eyes fell on the freshly laid eggs that were nestled in the center of the nest. “Cute.” She ran a hand through her hair once, throwing it up in a messy bun as forced herself up from the bed. Trudging towards the bathroom Cassie rubbed at her face, shutting the door with her foot as she stripped out of the overly large Sum 41 band tee she had acquired her senior year of high school. Turning the knobs to the shower she tested the temperature until she got it just right before she stripped out of her undies and climbed in. The scalding hot water did just the trick to wake her from her groggy state. .

16:15

One might be wondering who exactly is Cassie Johnson and why she was so important to this tale. You see, Cassie Johnson was not your average person and she was soon to discover just how unique she was… To have more of an understanding one must look back into the young woman’s past. Her mother Corrine Johnson died shortly after she had turned fourteen in what many had deemed a ‘car accident’. Though Cassie herself knew the truth of the matter, the ever-skeptic teen knew her mother suffered from quite a few mental disorders and she had always debated which one would have won out. Her depression had been the winner in the end and if it had been a true bet Cassie would have lost, her bet had been placed on her mother’s schizophrenia. After her mother’s death Cassie spent five years moving house to house, being passed around by the remaining family she had left. She learned quite a bit about her mother’s family in that time, and none of it had been good. The first house was her mother’s brother Fredrick, his family had been so strict and cold to the point it had made her feel as if she had been handed off to a prison ward. She spent all her time acting out to the point Fredrick and his wife had gotten fed up with her and sending her off to the next family member. .

16:15

Gloria was the only other sibling to Corrine and at first Cassie had been hopeful but that quickly changed once she had arrived. The house was covered in religious paraphernalia, Cassie liked to compare it to if one had jumped into one of the bible pamphlet covers that got passed out every Sunday at churches. Every inch of the place had a cross, or Mother Mary and her babe. It was tacky and made her feel uncomfortable. Even with that it compared nothing to Gloria’s husband and his favorite pastime. Every chance the man got he’d tell Cassie how her mother would have been alright if she had turned to “his savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” Cassie had exploded on the man, her outburst had been so bad that Gloria’s husband deemed that she was the devil incarnate and had two days to get out of his house or he would call the church and the authorities so that she could be exercised. This had left Gloria scrambling to find a place for Cassie and after some digging into what little records they had on Cassie they had discovered that her deceased father’s parents were still alive. With a long conversation and an agreement being made Cassie had been shipped one final time to a different state all together to people she hadn’t even known existed. .

16:15

This last house had been a gift that Cassie had never known she needed. She had known nothing prior to arriving about her father. As she came to grow comfortable at her grandparents home there had been a few things she had learned along the way. Her father’s name was Jessie and he had been a starving artist. He had been traveling the world to discover his muse when he had literally bumped into her mother. He had fallen in love instantly, artistically, and biologically. Her mother had turned him down repeatedly, she was from a well to do family and a starving artist couldn’t provide what she felt she was entitled to. But Jessie persisted, until he had worn her down. A year after their original meeting, she had fallen for him after he had revealed his latest creation to her… A painting he had dedicated to her. Later after the story had been told Cassie had searched online and eventually she had found the painting her Gramps had mentioned. It was this discovery that led Cassie to discover her interest in art. In that painting Jessie had portrayed Corrine like she has been a Heaven sent Angel, the emotions in which that painting evoked had Cassie wondering if the woman in the painting and her mother had been the same person. It was after this painting had been gifted to her mother that the young couple had gotten hitched and nine months later Cassandra Johnson would be born. But the good times did not remain for this newly made family… things took a tragic turn when Cassie had been three. Jessie had got into a freak trucking accident on the highway, dying before the paramedics could even arrive. Corrine’s mind had begun deteriorating then Cassie supposed. .

16:15

Cassie’s Grams liked to remind her that she looked a lot like Jesse, every day she would be told in some form or fashion. At first Cassie had denied this, having seen the portraits of him scattered around the house. She had her mother’s wild dirty blonde curls and pale freckled skin. Jesse had been dark skinned, black haired. Our connection had been our eyes, both an icy blue that rivaled that of the sky in midwinter, it was also the way that Cassie had carried herself; so full of confidence and passion. More than any of those however was the look that Cassie got when she was lost in her art, the muse shining through as she became absorbed into it which brings us back to current times. Now out of the shower Cassie quickly got dressed in her normal go to style of ripped jeans and a loose fitted t-shirt, this one boldly reading I don’t believe in humans with a large alien head in the background. A quick braid in her hair and she headed down to the kitchen. She pressed the on button for the coffee pot and set out three cups on the counter before heading down the basement. The door creaked open with vocal protest, the steps creaked under each of her footfalls as she bounded down them. The basement had been converted into her art studio a few years back, her grandparents doing it as a gift for when she had graduated. Her favorite denim apron was folded neatly on a hand crafted chair which was splattered with miscellaneous paints. Next to the chair was her easel, a rather large canvas as propped on it. The image on it was a rough sketch of what appeared to be a couple embracing in a hug. Different sized chunks of charcoal could be seen scattered on the easels base as well as different sized blending tools. .

16:16

Putting on the apron Cassie studied her progress so far on her art piece before she ultimately picked up the chunkiest piece of charcoal and started working. She wouldn’t need to be at work until eight thirty which gave her at least an hour and a half before she would need to leave, plenty of time to make headway on the gift for her grandparents anniversary that was coming up in a month’s time. Her mind in these moments could be described as tranquil, her ears tuning out the surrounding noise. During these times Cassie is in her element, her reality warped and focused on her task at hand. Minutes turn into an hour and before she realizes it there’s a knock on the basement door. The pounding grew louder to the point it eventually snapped her back to the here and now. She took a step back and observed the progress she’d accomplished. The details of her grandparents' faces finally taking shape and giving the piece of artwork emotions. She wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, a sigh escaping her as her Grandpa's voice was carried down the stairs. “Cassie, you have about three minutes to get you tuckus up here before your breakfast turns cold!” His voice is rough and aged like leather. A small smile played on her lips before she called up, “I’ll be right there! Just gotta wash up Gramps!” With a quick lather of soap and hot whether blackened fingers become once again unblemished. She tossed her apron on the back of the chair and headed up the old stairs, the smell of sausage and gravy growing stronger with each step. As she opened the door she spotted her grandmother filling all three cups with coffee. She looked up and there was so much warmth that it burned Cassie’s heart. There was a tinge of sadness in her face as she set the pot back on its base. “Good morning Grams.” Cassie offered a small smile as she took her place at the table. .

16:16

A plate was placed in front of her full of the works, over easy eggs and sausage and gravy biscuits as well as a handful of fresh cut fruit. “If only Jesse could see you,” a mournful smile passed over her delicately wrinkled features. “His heart would be full of pride…” Cassie looked up from mixing her coffee and gave her grandma a soft look, an uncomfortable silence falling over the table as Cassie struggled with the emotions that were welling up. With a fork full of cheese loaded eggs she shoved them in her mouth, eating rather quickly. “I haven’t done anything to deserve any praise Grams. You on the other hand deserve a medal for this amazing breakfast.” A few more forkfuls of food and her plate was almost barren. “With how quick you’re eatin’ how’d you even know?” Her grandpa shook his head and peeked over the newspaper at her. “Well, that’s because I have immaculate taste buds that were made for the job…” She grinned and slid her chair back, taking her empty plate to the sink to rinse off. Her grandmother’s voice rising up from behind her. “Really Cassie, He’d be proud… You look so much like him.” Cassie stilled her hand, her eyes aching. She turned then, glancing at her grams and it was in that moment that in the shallow depths of her chestnut brown eyes the sense of loss and longing for what had been taken from her. Her heart squeezed and she went over, wrapping her grandmother in a tight embrace, her chin resting on her peppered gray head. “I know Grams, and if I could meet him, I’m sure he’d tell me how much he loves you.” She kissed her wrinkled forehead and grabbed her cup of coffee. .

16:16

Quickly downing the contents she set the cup upside down in the sink before she glanced at the clock. “Oh shoot! I’m going to be late for work!” She placed another kiss on her grandma’s head and one on her grandfather’s cheeks. “Hope you two have a good day, I’ll be home late tonight…got a new boss coming to take over this branch at the art gallery and I’m already predicting it’s going to be a long one. Don’t wait up!” With that she was out the back door and heading for her small run down VW convertible bug. The drive through town didn’t take her long and she was pulling into her parking space twenty minutes before she would be required to clock in. “Nice, I can go and get another coffee.” Whistling she slid out of her car, locking the door before heading across the street to the corner cafe.

16:16

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\ If you've read this far I thank you for taking this glimpse into Cassie's life. If I've caught your interest what you should know about this rp plot: - 3rd person, 2+ paragraph responses, Romance/Slice of life -Looking for a dominant male character to take the role of the new boss. - This is in slice of life but will have some supernatural elements as in shifters/werewolves. Do I still have your attention? Then feel free to shoot me a DM. (edited)

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