Thread: Whispering Shadows ||Lagerthera x jjfanrb||

Life had been nothing but sweet, her mother had said, when she found out she was pregnant with her daughter, Irja Padar. She had heard the stories a million times, how scared her mother had been when she was pregnant, how worried she was about how the baby would turn out, and then..BAM there was Irja Padar, a name she had taken from her father, her mother's husband. You were so perfect! All my worries melted away when I saw those beautiful big eyes of yours! Her mother chimed, happily always. Irja could see it, always. Her mother never seemed to be frightened of anything, but having her first child had frightened her. Though Irja had heard it was a common thing of women at any age, worried something wrong might come of the child that was unborn, that they wouldn't live the process it never made hearing her mother's stories any easier. There were other stories as well, why they had left Estonia for America when she was three, why her father had joined the Marines so they could be free of their home country. Her mother had said the same things a million and one times. There was something frightening there, we needed to run. Though whenever Irja had asked, her mother would just look at her, trying to avoid the question. Her father, angered, would always tell Irja to shut her mouth and go to her room, to not question her mother but things like this only made Irja question the act all the more. What was so dangerous her family had felt threatened? That they had to flee a country her mother loved so dearly she would cry about it in the night? None if it mattered. Although the girl was curious as any child would be, why the things in their military home were shut off from her a certain room she was never allowed in, books she could not read, items she was not allowed to touch. Her friends growing up had laughed saying it was typical of military parents, but Irja had always felt like this wasn't normal of any parents. She had been over to her friends house over the years, saw how open their families were, how nothing was really off limits, besides the parents room and guns, but this was different! Still Irja had grown up, with a room upstairs that was locked, four locks always, and she never so much as had glimpsed inside, only seen the wooden black door -her mother had painted it black for protection, everyday when she came home from school. Irja lived in a small two story house, military soil, white exterior, brown ruff, same as every other house on the block. It was clean, extremely clean, everything was dusted, everything was in it's place, and everything outside looked perfect. Besides the inside, the inside was just as clean, her mother spent every hour of the day rubbing the walls, cleaning the floors, everything she could, but it was not like normal homes. Other people on the street were Americans, born American, raised American, although Irja had lived her since she was three, now she was fifteen, she still never considered herself American. Not truly American anyways. Inside there were little things that others did not have, the living room had all sorts of hand carved masks lining each and every wall, in fact almost every room had some type of mask on it in the house. There was a poster in her father's den of a river in Estonia, as well as everything inside was colored bright colors. Her mother had painted all the cabinets yellow, green trim, brown rugs, orange furniture, pink walls, blue ceilings. Irja had grown used to it over the years, the sight of the inside of the house, and it only bugged her when she visited someone else home, to see how different they were. Though her mother told her not to worry, that they should be allowed to celebrate life as they wanted, and the Padar's as they wished. So Irja had learned, to not pry into others life, and she had gone about her business. Although when Irja turned fifteen this year, things had gotten stranger with her mother. Her mother wouldn't allow any of her friends over anymore, or let Irja ride the bus to or fro school. Now, she picked Irja up, or dropped her off, and Irja was never allowed to be alone. She had never seen her mother so...terrified something was coming to take her away, was it perhaps because she was growing up? No, it didn't feel like that, but that could have been the reason. In fact. That was the only reasonable explanation for why her mother might be acting in such a way to her. Today had been no different. The small thing of 5'3 had been conversing with a football player in her high school, a boy she had a crush on for years, and him on her. Neither of them had asked the other on a date, too shy, and Irja had watched as the boy had grown up, had sex, matured, and wanted more. There was something trilling about talking to him now that hadn't been there before, the thrill that he was more experienced. Mainly, she had thought it was her hormones, but still the moment had been perfect. Telor, had recently broke up with his girlfriend of two years on his eighteenth birthday, and now, his eyes had found Irja's green ones. They had been alone, her hello kitty backpack strung on her pale shoulder as she had looked up at him in front of the school smiling. He was awkwardly trying to ask her out, a girl he had liked for years, as her mother a stern looking thing of 5'0, covered in dress from head to tow, flowers in hair, no makeup on, black hair, purple eyes, approached grabbing Irja's thin wrist and tugging her away. Irja didn't fight her mother, she had simply waved shyly to the tall blond Telor and walked away with her mother whining. Her mother had shoved her into the passenger seat, examining the clothes her daughter had been wearing that day, short shorts, low cut white top that showed off her 38d breasts, push up bra, high heels before huffing at her teen daughter. This was not something, her mother had never liked seeing her daughter dress, like an American. So they had driven home, quietly, and her mother had shoved her inside the house, closing it behind her to throw the backpack at her, yell at Irja to go to her room and not come out until morning, and to never wear such revealing clothing again. Of course, Irja didn't understand why she shouldn't. She was a hot little thing, and she had the curves all the boys wanted. She had a small waist, size five hips, big bootay, toned muscles from working out everyday, clear complexion, and model worthy features thin high brown brows, large pink lips, round jaw, small ears, big green eyes with long black thick lashes, high cheek bones, long light brown hair that ended a little past her ass, thin nose. So Irja had been stuck in her little room, pink carpet, red walls, wooden mask above her pinkred canopy bed, red curtains around it, white curtains on the window, small white desk with a brand new white laptop, white chair, and a white closet. She had screamed, throwing her backpack in the wall before sliding into her beige colored bathroom, a mosaic of colors on the wall in the shower, before stripping her clothing and slipping into the tube filling it up with water and bubbles. Irja had soaked in the tube for a good three four hours, before slipping out, drying off, locking her bedroom door and climbing into her bed. She knew she was getting no dinner tonight, a common thing when she was in trouble, and she sunk into her memory foam bed, pink pillows as she laid her head down, clapped her hands to turn off the lights and closed her eyes. At least I'm free in my dreams. Irja muttered to herself as she drifted off into the darkness of the night.