[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Peanuts Edition

Here's a beginning excerpt from, well... what was *supposed* to be my Nanowrimo project, but I did n't quite make it to 50k words. At all. I'm still going to try and work on it when I can, though! 
 **** 
 
 She knew she'd reached the valley when the sky opened up, and the stars glittered like an infinite wasteland. She rested her head against the bus window, feeling the vibrations chatter through her teeth. There was a heavy feeling of isolation lingering in the air -- the passenger area was dark and devoid of people -- making her feel like she was headed toward a deep oblivion. An abundance of life bloomed outside the window, illuminated by the soft moonlight -- she knew this as well, that the valley is teeming with possibility, and yet it filled her with a strange and powerful longing. 
 
 It felt empty. 
 
 Perhaps it was the slow anxiety snaking through her stomach that forced her to close her eyes, to break off from that ever-looming uncertainty that plagued her mind. Thoughts of her life -- of whether she made the right decision. It did n't really matter anymore. She evened her breathing, trying to will herself to sleep. The bus was set to arrive at her new home in the morning. It would be best to get some rest. 
 
 **** 
 
 `` Last stop, Pelican Town!'' 
 
 Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the last call. The bus driver was looking at her amicably through the front mirror and engaged in small talk while she answered in a friendly, albeit reserved, manner. They exchanged short quips about the valley, and her destination that hardly anyone ever stops at. It's different, in the morning. The valley was truly as alive as she imagined -- and she almost chided herself for being so morose. 
 
 They pulled into a rest stop harbored by trees. The driver helped her with her bags, and wished her good luck. She looked around the station, hit by the realization that everything was green and lush, not paved over like the city was. All at once she felt lost in the moment, until something interrupted her stupor. 
 
 `` You must be Aryll! I thought I saw the bus pull up,'' said a woman fast approaching her. Her hair was bunched up in a rather haphazard ponytail, and the loose bangs framed her tired, but maternal appearing face. She seemed to have layered a hooded vest over a thermal sweater -- perplexingly enough, considering the warm weather. 
 
 `` O-oh um. Yes, I am,'' Aryll stuttered as she tensed up. 
 
 `` I'm Robin, the local town carpenter,'' Robin said, giving Aryll a hearty pat on the back in lieu of a handshake. She lurched forward a bit, not at all doubting Robin's profession. `` I'll help you grab your bags and then show you to your new home. You must have traveled a long way, huh? You look exhausted. I live up in the mountains myself, so sometimes getting around can be difficult. But do n't worry, the town itself is rather small and you'll be able to get around in no time!'' 
 
 Aryll marveled at Robin's ability to carry a conversation, practically alone, while they walked. Perhaps she sensed a reservation in Aryll, and took it upon herself to fill the silence. 
 
 The path seemed to wear down under her feet; although it was already a bare dirt road, it tapered further into a small line. Parts of the surrounding fences were in tatters -- holey and patched -- as if she was entering an area that had been long deserted. A sense of uneasy dread unfurled inside of her, as it does when one walks through the monument of a memory. As they entered the clearing, Aryll could only balk. 
 
 Just *how long* had it been since her last visit? 
 
 She had only been a child then, in the age where the mind forms itself in such grandeur -- the world is immeasurable, and every happening is a new wonder. The farm, which had once been incomprehensible to her small mind -- open, manicured, *lively* -- lay in shambles before her. It was like a dream, where a thick fog descended over reality, and no matter how many times she waved her arms should could not disperse it. There stood, closest to her, the old cottage where her grandfather had baked her cookies from a secret recipe he could not, under the most serious of circumstances, divulge to anyone. It still looked sturdy, despite the passing time and heartbreak it must have housed. The cobbled path stemming from it led past a tool shed and ended at a pair of buildings. Aryll recalled them in their former glory -- one was a coop where the chickens delighted at her presence, and the other a barn. They appeared uninhabitable now. Holes in the roof. Rot in the wood. Abandoned. 
 
 All of this was surrounded by the ruins. The madness of disorder swallowed the farm; branches, bushes and all manners of invasive foliage scattered the land like a maze. Spring, truly, was the cruelest season. Plants broke through the dull ground like a mockery of her childhood idealization; where beauty and organization once lied, there was now only the jurisdiction of nature. 
 
 But perhaps she was being dramatic. 
 
 The old, familiar comfort of indifference seized her body. She tried to gaze over the farm as one would in an unfamiliar graveyard, only a tourist to the grief. 
 
 The state of the farm, she had decided before coming there, was not her problem. 
 **** 
 [ You can read the rest on Ao3 ] ( http: //archiveofourown.org/works/8554438/chapters/19612264 ) 
 
 It is based on a video game, but everything you need to know gets explained in the story.
