03.2023 | WELCOME BACK! Hello friends old and new! I'm so excited to welcome you all back to SITW! I've made some changes to the plot and added the ability to play supernatural charcaters! So come and check it out! I can't wait to jump back into this little town with all of you!
A strange history surrounds the town, it is a place where mysterious and supernatural things have been known to happen. The reputation of the town reguarly draws in visitors and newcomers alike. While some residents avidly believe in the supernatural, others are far more skeptical. What do you believe?
MJ wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and use her fists. She wanted to hurt her mom.
"Don't look at me like that or I'll give you a reason to look at me like that." June croaked from her place on the couch. She was skinny and haggard and looked about fifteen years older than she actually was. Her gold hair was stringy and unwashed, and a strange rash was on her face. She had the remote for the tv in her hand and was clicking through channels as the spoke to her daughter.
MJ wanted to say something, but she knew it was no use. There was no reasoning with June. She saw the world through her very small eyes and narrow gaze and that was that. All MJ could do was press on in her own path and try to make a difference.
She moved towards the door. The air outside of their trailer was always fresher; everywhere was more fresh than home.
"Where do you think you're going?" June screamed it, but her lungs were filled with tar from smokes so her voice was sandpaper against metal. MJ ignored her and pressed on. The remote control hit her in the back of the head just as she was stepping out. She had expected that one.
"Don't come back you--" the door closed, leaving June to her squawking and liberating MJ. Ellis D., her twelve-year-old brother, was already outside on the steps. He was vigorously picking at the skin on his hand, making himself bleed. MJ rolled her eyes at him and walked past without a word.
A walk would help clear her head, even if it was through the trailers of Sunny Heights.
It didn’t matter how many hanging planters, or paint jobs, the entire place looked like shit. The smell wasn’t much better, but maybe that was his own bias. Everything to him smelled like piss and beer, something he grew up with, and he immediately associated the smell to any place he didn’t like. Their home no longer stunk of it, his sister having done a thorough clean after his father was incarcerated, but somehow, he could still smell the pungent odours that would forever haunt him.
Gathering a wad of spit and snot at the thought, Hunter hocked a loogie against the ground, and sniffed, his nose forever stuffed from his fascination with blow a couple years back. Leaning his elbows on his tattered jean covered knees, he pulled a smoke out of his pocket and lit it. Man, I hate this place, he thought angrily as he took a long drag, eyebrows raising at the sound of muffled yelling coming from a few trailers down. Curious to a fault, he rose to his feet, not caring that he had neglected to put any shoes on his bare feet.
“Hey, miss USA!” He hollered as he approached the younger girl, sticking his tongue out at her younger brother as he passed. “What’s got your mother all pissy today?” He’d never really spoken to MJ before, but with a small town, it was hard not to know something about everyone. For one, he knew that she was a Junior, two, she was smoking hot, and three, her mother was about as useful as his had been. It wasn’t much, but at least it was common ground.
There was only one person in Sweetwater who thought he was cute calling MJ 'Miss USA,' and that was Dirty Hunter. Or just Hunter for the polite people like MJ. She'd heard his nickname circulating, though, and couldn't blame the people who labeled him that. He always smelled foul. She wasn't sure if he was unwashed, had a genetic problem, or if the substances he consumed were to blame, but she wrinkled her nose before he caught up to her. You would think having lived a lifetime around the smell of alcohol, drugs, body odors, and whatnot would have trained MJ's nose to the smell, but it didn't. The difference for her--versus someone rich and snobby like Blair--was that she could stand it. She could still look him in the eyes and speak to him. She could see past the smell and terrible life decisions and pity him, knowing that he was a victim of the circumstances of his life. Just like her.
The difference between them--which made her want to loathe him--was that he clung to the victim card like air. MJ, on the other hand, used it as a stepping stone to create a brighter future for herself.
"Hello Hunter." MJ said, not trying to hide the exhaustion from her tone. She worked all the time and couldn't rest when she was at home. MJ wasn't fond of her mother, but she was a loyal young woman and wasn't about to rail on June, especially not to someone like Hunter.
"Smoking will kill you." She's reach to steal his cigarette if he let her.
The tone she used to greet him was one he was used to. He wasn't ignorant to the fact that most people in the town thought of him as scum, but it always irked him when people like @mj talked down to him. She was no better than him, living in the crummy trailer park with a shitty mom, but somehow, she still managed to appear like she was better. Maybe it was her adherence to personal hygiene, or just the fact that her good looks helped her to look the part of an upstanding citizen. He regretted approaching her.
"Guess I'm hoping it will kill me faster than poverty." He responded dryly, handing her the cigarette. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glanced down at his grubby feet, acutely aware of the dirt that stuck under his nails, and the bruises that adorned the tops of them. His shoes weren't in much better shape than his feet, but at least they didn't scream homeless. "Let me grab my shoes and my pack, and then we can talk about weighs heavy on the mind of a such a pretty creature." With a slimy smile, he jogged towards his home, and banging the screen door shut, slipped his shoes on, and grabbed the almost empty pack of smokes. Catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the door, he grimaced and ruffled his red hair with his hand, trying to bring life back into it. "Good enough" he grumbled, before exiting the house once more, lighting another smoke as he made his way back to the younger girl.
MJ was quietly pleased when he let her take the cigarette. She had intended to toss it to the ground and crush it under her converse but she hesitated. This little white object was a crafty murderer, applying pleasure as it seeped death into the lungs of its victims. She hated it, and she also wondered about it.
Hunter's comment about poverty made her smile bitterly. That was their lot in life, wasn't it. She didn't think they were so dissimilar. They both had life handed broken lives handed to them, like getting an old teddy bear with someone else's name on it. Nothing about this world would come easy. It was good to be around Hunter. It was a good reminder for MJ of what might happen if she lost her resolve.
MJ wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but she stayed where she was and waited just in case, following his retreat with her eyes. She felt a little bad that it smelled better once he was away from her, and something compassionate in her drove her to be kind because of that fact.
After he disappeared into the house she raised the cigarette to her thin, pretty lips and inhaled. What flushed into her lungs was not sweet relief, but torturous chaos. She grimaced and coughed as if she were in a house on fire. He'd return to her in that state, and wouldn't reach her until she'd already tossed the thing to the ground and pulverized it with her shoe. Over and over.
That wasn’t exactly what he had expected to see. The sight of her crushing the cigarette with her shoe was oddly enticing, as if she was trying to stomp out everything wrong with her life by squashing the cigarette. He could definitely relate - most of his fights were solely because he needed to have something go his way. It was kind of sad though, seeing the pretty girl in mostly the same situation as him. It didn’t really fit. He looked at her and saw her dressed like Blair, living a life of luxury, not slumming in a shitty trailer court.
“I think it’s out, MJ.” He stated cautiously taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, attempting to blow smoke rings but failing. He had yet to perfect that little trick. Nudging her with his shoulder, he offered her a genuine smile, gaze softening - a rare occurrence for the usually intense boy. “Seriously, are you OK?”
--- tags: @mj notes: sorry for the wait and crappy reply!
MJ was flustered when she heard Hunter's voice. Yes, of course it was out. It wasn't like it was a live flame. Cigarettes smoldered. Putting it out was simple. She wasn't putting it out. She was destroying it.
"They kill you, Hunter." She snapped at him, irritated about more than just the cigarette a she reached to confiscate this other one he'd put back in his mouth.
Apparently, he struck a nerve without meaning to. Who knew that @mj was so against cigarettes? Of course he knew that they killed, but they weren’t the real culprit, were they? It was cancer, the weakened immune system, the compromised lungs. But no one who smoked cared about the effects on their health. It was fun, afterall, flirting with death.
“Jesus,” He responded dodging her hand, and quickly grabbing the smoke out of his mouth before she could pulverize it as well. He regarded her for a moment, curiosity and fear mingling together. She was a firecracker, and Hunter loved playing with dangerous things. “Whatever bullshit is going on, don’t take it out on my vice.” He butted his smoke out on his shoe, before putting it back in the pack. “I know they kill. I’m not stupid, contrary to popular belief.” Snapping back at her, he furrowed his brow, and crossed his arms.
"Could'a fooled me." MJ muttered, crossing her arms just like him and rolling her eyes to the side. She was being testy and she knew it, but sometimes these moods were hard to shake. She knew all of what Hunter did wasn't her fault; she wanted to believe that, anyway. She knew he could be a different person if he set his mind to it...but he didn't care to. He liked who he was and what he did, and she pitied him. It was easier to pity him than to look inside herself and pinpoint the source of this sudden anger.
"Look, sorry, okay?" She sighed, wanting to be done. There was no use putting beef between herself and Hunter. They were hardly friends, so she didn't need him as an enemy. He'd come running after her, she liked to think, because a small part of him cared about why she was walking away from her home. She would cling to the light in him, even if it was small.
"I just..." She started walking again, looking over her shoulder to make it clear that he was invited along. "I'm pissed, I guess. Something stupid is happening at school." She shrugged her shoulders. This wasn't it either, but it was a rabbit trail he'd likely hop down.
Hunter wasn’t ignorant to the fact that most people thought he was dumb. Truth was, he had intelligence, he was just lazy. He couldn’t be bothered to finish school and wind up in a dead end job that destroyed what little will to live he had. It was easier this way, letting those around him think less of him - hard to disappoint people when there were no expectations. He didn’t respond to her apology, giving her a blank look. It was far from a sincere apology, but he didn’t expect much else from the girl. He was surprised she had tolerated his presence this long.
“You know what fixes petty highschool bullshit?” He asked, bumping her shoulder gently with his elbow. “Not going at all.” He was joking, throwing a wink at her. “Nah, just kidding. It still happens when you’re out of school.” Gloweing for a moment, he sighed and threw his arm around her shoulders, in a brotherly way. “Whatever is going on, don’t let it get to you. I know, I know, easier said than done. BUT,” he added, lowering his voice, “you are way too pretty to let stupid shit get you down. You not smiling is a disservice to this town and our country.”
MJ smiled, more uncomfortably than she intended, and carefully plucked Hunter's arm off of her shoulders, ducking away from him as she did so. They were walking and talking, but they were hardly acquaintances, much less friends. She did smile, though, as he was being complimentary.
"You're sweet, kind of, but pretty doesn't get you that far." She'd thought about not going, truth be told, but also knew that wasn't the answer to injustice. "College is my ticket out of this place and life and to a brighter future, and that's being threatened. My hard work for the last three years here is being threatened. It's all a game to some people, but this is my life." She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.
"I know your way out was quitting and shutting down on the world, but I can't do that." She didn't say it as an insult, but as her simple truth.
Not surprised, he let his arm drop back to his side. Hunter was sure he was giving off some ‘creepy’ vibe, but he was really just trying to comfort her. He knew how mean people could be, and luckily he had developed a thick skin so that it didn’t bother him as much. But there was something about MJ that seemed too soft, too delicate: a dove too pure and fragile to be released into a world as cruel as this one. But, he had a feeling she’d never truly see that vulnerable side of her. He rarely ever saw anyone's true nature.
“If that’s the case, then fuck what anyone thinks.” Gesturing with his hand, he shrugged his shoulders. “People only stick their nose in others business when they’re jealous. Do you honestly think that any of your class is going to get out of this town? No.” Lengthening his stride so that he was in front of her, he stopped and looked her dead in the eye. “I quit because I’m never going to be better than this shithole. The entire sum of my existence is going to end here, and I’m ok with that, even if no one else is.” Pulling out a smoke, he put it between his lips and lit it, inhaling and exhaling for a moment before speaking again. “The only one that can take away your hard work, and keep you here, is you. No one else has a say in what you do with your life. If you let them beat you down, and take away your dreams, you are giving them all the power.”
MJ stopped walking when Hunter moved in front of her. He was oddly insistent with this opinion of his, as if he had to let someone know that there was more to him than just substance abuse and lack of hygiene. MJ knew there was, but still, he was oddly invested in this. She wondered if he had a thing for her. Maybe she was just flattering herself.
She also knew that he didn't fully understand her situation. How could he? She hadn't expounded. She hadn't told him that the principal of the school was threatening her status as valedictorian if she didn't make peace with a family friend of his.
"Who told you you'd never be better? Did you read it in a book or see it on a commercial? Why would you settle for less than better, less than the best? Why are you choosing that?" MJ couldn't help the judgment that edged its way into her voice. She couldn't help it because she felt it. She felt it because he was too close to home, both literally and figuratively. They only difference between her and Hunter was motivation.