ghost_holder: (Chatting and smiling)
Agatha Prenderghast ([personal profile] ghost_holder) wrote2019-07-15 09:14 pm
Entry tags:

Will we still remember everything we learned in school

It's been a weird journey. 2013 and Agatha Prenderghast, eleven going on twelve, seem so far away. There's a frankly embarrassing array of photographs of herself on tables and place settings, some of which she doesn't even remember being taken. The little girl in some of the oldest ones is her but Aggie feels like she can only barely remember being her.

Six years is a long time to change. It's a long time to learn her powers, to stop being afraid, to get angry, to feel unbelievable joy, to find people, to lose them. She's gained several pets, a few piercings, a lot of different shapes of family, but she's here. Aggie Prenderghast is at her own graduation party, surrounded by family and friends. There's music playing on a speaker, food made at home and brought by guests, and a guestbook parked next to her open year book, surrounded by permanent markers to sign.

Underneath the shade of their trees, the hot day turns into a balmy evening and Aggie watches the fireflies start to blink in and out and feels like she's really accomplished something. She's made it.

Now onto the next milestone.
andhiswife: (smile - fond)

[personal profile] andhiswife 2019-08-09 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Someone fair enough to give me an accurate assessment," she replies with an arched eyebrow, though she's still smiling. She's reasonably confident it won't taste bad, she just isn't sure it'll be as delicious as she hopes. It's meant to be something special, after all.

But soon after Aggie takes an experimental bite, she beams as the flavors register. Greta relaxes a bit, her smile widening. "I thought I'd stick with flavors I knew you liked," she says.