0.02 Hidden Things (Meghan)

It's something you're told a lot, when you're still a kid.
Nothing is decided, you can be whatever you want, you have all the time in the world to decide. A world where mistakes are required and encouraged, as long as you figure yourself out eventually. But like everything you learn when you're a child there's something wrong in it. Something that is incomplete. Have you ever asked an adult, why they didn't become what they most wanted to be?

She remembered a few things, when nothing interrupted her many thoughts.
Sun, sand, a family... a friend. She tried so hard to remember the better details and leave out the worse ones. It was best when mom was with them, but now it was pretty obvious she wasn't coming back. Probably because she was tired, Meghan thinks. Tired of her, tired of her father. Last time he was home he had told her she made that lady up, she'd never had a mother. That thought joined the many others, swirled about and kept her awake for a long time. She wished often to see her mother, dreamed of it, but like so many other lies it never came true. "I'll be back soon, I won't be gone long, I promise..."

Some days were better than others. There was even a small toy she'd made for herself, and there was a lot of water left in the jug he'd given her before he left this time. Maybe when he got back home... he wouldn't be nearly as angry. Maybe he'd let her out for a few hours. Maybe next time, there'd be a little more food for her? Even though it was expensive, even though he had been kind to let her stay with him, even though she wasn't smart enough to be sent to school. She was greedy. Another lie? Something to think about.

There was plenty of time for thinking. She used to count the days when she'd be let out again, for a little while. But eventually there was no point in keeping her hopes up. Everything around her became practical, cause and effect, beginning and end. I made mom leave, so I am shut away here, unable to go anywhere. I am hungry but there is no food. Either I will be fed today or I will not. I am alive for a reason, but no one will tell me that reason.

She remembered her friend in the best moments too. The only one she'd really made, who didn't call her names or laugh at her behind her back. She could talk about anything and he wouldn't get mad. Rare memories surfaced, of times when she didn't feel like she had a disease. These moments always had him in them. Which was funny, she'd only seen him a few times. Often running around town, doing whatever he felt like doing. Her life was... completely the opposite. She envied him a lot early on. But something in his smile warmed her dark world, like when her mom would read to her so long ago. Even when she spoke meaningless words to him, that didn't make sense to her later, he was calm and never treated her badly for it.

Dustin, that's who that was. "My friend's name was Dustin." She wrote it down with her finger in the dirt floor of the shed, glad that at least her mom taught her how to write a bit before leaving. Now she knew how to spell something very important.

She felt like she heard his voice sometimes. But then again, there were a lot of voices. She was sure she made it up. There was nobody here, day after day. And it was better than seeing her father, better than feeling him strike her, or do worse. There were a lot of worse things. Like ghosts. Ghosts would be bad if they were real right? She smiled to herself. Of course, that would have to be the truth then. The horrible things were always the real ones.

Another day another weird noise. This whole place was still creaking, especially when it was windy in spring. Like it had been built on a marsh (it probably was) and slowly slid further into the lake it straddled, day after day. Dustin couldn't help it, old places like this were fascinating. Even though it had been years, he still cut through it on his way to class. Today's the start of the weekend though and it's more fun to go this way than wander the streets and get yelled at by nosy neighbors. The people in town were alright, just old fashioned. They thought he was up to no good because he hung out with a lot of the other kids his age. The elderly see more than three teens in one place and it must be a gang! is the vibe he gets from them lately.

But, he knew how to make people laugh, so people liked him. He couldn't help it, but it also made him keep others at arm's length sometimes. Which was fine. Could he help it if the kids his age liked his company more than he liked theirs? Truth was he found most of the people here boring, no matter their age. If ghosts and zombies were real, at least he wouldn't be bored so often, he thought on his way back from another shallow neighborhood block party. He laughed a bit out loud. "Not that I want you to exist!" He knew the ghosts would never answer him, but he liked to tease them in just in case.

"I-is someone in there?" Meghan stopped talking, thinking that might have been her. Was she the one talking that time? She forgot to breath for a few beats. Nothing again. Familiarly, the voices started up again, mocking her. She made it up again, she always made things up. She knew how bad it was to hope for things, that terrible bubbly feeling that would burst, bringing the weight of her disappointment down on top of her. "I didn't... I didn't think so." She worked to recover a moment of sanity. An uphill battle, that.

The wind.. he thought, a bit shakily. Of course you're being an idiot, and the wind is being the wind. It doesn't know any better. He headed home a little too quickly after that, wondering what that spooky feeling was. Just... it was a bit cold, outside. That's what it was.

A few days later though and Dustin realized he wasn't so sure. Yeah there was nectar at the block party the other day, a whole keg of it, but he's underage! He can't drink! And he knew he'd heard something that time on the way home. It came from the shed, he thought, approaching it carefully as if it was something alive. Cautiously he slid one of the rusting shovels off the rack on the side of the shed. It scraped, loudly. "You there ghost?" He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. If one of his friends saw him now... Oh well, none of them were real friends, just nice people. Or whatever. Emboldened, he called out again. It was probably an animal or something that nested in the old shed. This was going to be hilarious one day, when he looked back on it to make fun of himself. Here he was, ready to fight off a vicious raccoon. Probably.

The second time for sure, was the charm. He just didn't know it yet.
"I guess not, of course it's nothing again. It's always nothing." A sharp laugh. "Thanks for messing with me, ghost!" A scuffling of feet, a muttering. That scraping noise again, just in reverse this time.
"You got me good..." Too deep, the voice definitely didn't come from her head this time. Footsteps, fading away slowly.

And Meghan finds her voice. Hers, not anyone else's. No reason why but she was sure of it. "Wait- wait I'm here, dad is that you? Please, please open the door..." She pleaded, trying had to put any sort of authority in her voice. He'd never open the door if he thought she was grovelling; he hated that. And she was really, really hungry this time. The last of the graham crackers he'd given her had already been opened, two were left. She'd been rationing it in case he wasn't coming back today. Was that him?

She had no idea who, it didn't sound like her dad. A kid from the neighborhood, on their property maybe? What are the chances of that, what are the odds? "Is... someone there?" She called, a little louder this time, unable to keep the hope from bubbling up to saturate her voice. "I... can you open the door?"

Dustin hadn't said anything. He was frozen in shock for a second. Stiffly he walked back over to the shed. "Please..." He heard it again.
"Meghan, you... stupid... you're going to die this time. He'll never feed us now!" "You scared him away with your sniveling, always a crybaby." "Shut up I am... not please!" Her voices, all of them at once from her own mouth, uncontrollably until nothing more than please came out, quieter and chocked out by sobs.

This was nothing like he expected this day to be like. He'd come over here on a whim, for amusement. And now, was this real? It was like he could feel the girl's sorrow from the other side of the slatted door. All at once by his side, his fists clenched. He couldn't listen to it anymore. He took a deep breath and tried a gentle approach.

"Meghan, are you... Meghan?" He asked, the disbelief of it ringing in his ears. Even that sounded silly to him, it had been years. No way would she be back here, at the old place. Where was her mother, her father? Then it processed, she had called out to her dad, just now. That made him angry, but he tried his best to hide it. "Did your father put you in there? What's going on, are you injured?"
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I took about 180 pictures in game for this part of the story so far (there's a couple for the next update too). Here's the traits they've rolled!

Dustin;  Brave, Handy, Good sense of humor, Supernatural Fan, Star Quality (I chose Handy and Star Quality and rolled for the others)

Meghan; Hypochondriac, Insane, Genius, Computer Whiz, Supernatural Fan (I chose Genius and Hypochondriac, the others are random rolls).

Fun facts; The hypochondriac trait is custom content, the sim gets moodlets about diseases they think they have. They might wake up feeling like they need to go to the hospital (750 points if you fulfill that though!), or get a 'getting skin cancer'  moodlet when they're outside in the sun. I found it on Simlogical here: http://www.simlogical.com/ContentUploadsRemote/uploads/1982/

End of the Prologue (nearly!) This is a Sims 3 Random Legacy Challenge, rules and resources are in the sidebar.
Thank you very much for reading!
~Frogsnack