Chapter Text
ticket remembers when they first came out to their dad. they remember the pride and acceptance in their dads eyes. they remember how quickly he had adapted to their preferred pronouns. they were 11 at the time, and their family was perfect. with clipps having just left the house, everyone was getting along. for the first time, ticket's life felt normal.
ticket remembers their first panic attack. they remember bolting out of their house, away from their sister, their mom, and their dad. they remember curling up under the tree they used to climb with their dad. they remember when months ago, their dad has said he wasnt healthy enough to help them climb anymore. they remember the hospital trip where their dad held their hand after they had fallen out of the tree. it had been stupid to try to climb alone. especially without their dad to support them. but now their dad's voice was driving them out of their panic. ticket remembers his soothing, gruff voice, and despite the news he had just shared, he still managed to join ticket underneath their tree.
ticket remembers sobbing for what felt like hours while their dad held and comforted them.
ticket remembers to car ride home from the hospis house, two weeks later. the passenger seat was empty, but it still seemed to echo with their dad's laugh and terrible singing.
ticket can barely remember the funeral. they can barely remember watching their dads body be lowered into the ground, never to be seen again. he looked like he was sleeping. like he would wake up any moment and wrap ticket in the comforting, familiar, warm embrace.
ticket remembers the first time their mom hit them. they remember feeling scared. and alone. and betrayed. the purple spot on their eye barely compared to how much their moms words hurt.
"you father would be so disappointed in you. he would hate who you are now."
ticket believed her. no matter how much they didnt want to, ticket believed every word she said to them that night.
ticket remembers the first time they had made themselves bleed. they remembered how reliving it had felt to see the silver blade dance and slash across their arm. they remembered how comforting the smell of blood became. how wonderful it felt everytime the pencil sharpener blade painted pretty paintings in red across their ankles, thighs, legs, wrists, upper arms.
ticket remembers the sound their body had made as their mom ripped the top of them down. they remember the pain, and blood, and shreds of pink paper surrounded them. they remember all the names their mother had called them. they remembered thinking about nothing but how much their dad would hate them if he saw them like this.
ticket remembers the first time they heard their dad's voice call out to them. they remember listening to his plea to join him, remembers how disgusting it had felt to throw all the pills up into the toiliet. they remember the hospital. how much it reminded them of all the time their dad had spent, trapped in these beige walls. they remembered the loneliness. the wish that their mom, their sister, anyone would show up and tell them it would be okay.
ticket doesn't remember what happened after the hospital. all they remember is their first night in the cold streets of the city, having nothing but a backpack and a bag they didn't remember packing. they remember the cold. they remember the voice that had beckoned to them. they remember the cold blade that was handed to them. they remember the shredding noise.
ticket doesn't remember anything after that. just black.
it was cold.
ticket wanted their fathers embrace.
they we're alone.
forever.
ticket doesnt remember anything after that.
they dont remember waking up. or being on stage. or cigar.
they dont remember being kidnapped. or the show. or meeting cherry. or mapley. or cuppy.
just cold, black.