Chapter Text
The smell of exhaust and pine swirls in my nose as I step off the bus, my heavy backpack wanting to slide off my shoulder. As I yank it back in place, I can feel the ache in my bones as my body shifts its weight. I lift my head and attempt to hide the small grimace.
Exhaustion has nearly taken me, my knees buckle, but my feet hold steady.
I immediately meet two emerald green eyes staring back at me, bright and warm. A kind voice cuts the sound of the bus driving away, "Welcome! I'm Robin, Mayor Lewis sent me to fetch you."
The seemingly charming woman beams her smile directly at me. She extends her soft but calloused hand. Messy red hair pulled back, flyaways against the sunshine giving her a red halo. She was beautiful, soft. Gentle.
I offer a meek handshake, feeling more a passenger in what seems to be my new life unfolding.
She clasps my hand with her other and leans in, "my goodness... you really do look just like him!" Robin matter of factly states, her smile beaming.
I stare at her for a second, cordiality plastered to my face. It’s not that I don’t want to look like grandpa, according to him he was quite the looker back then. I just haven't pre-prepared a response to this comment yet. Nor do I really have the bandwidth to come up with one on the spot.
She catches on and continues "your grandfather was just such a dear neighbor to have here, I’m sure he told you all about his adventures in the valley” Robin giggles, “...come come, we've been readying your arrival."
I manage to mumble a courteous greeting before making the trek towards my grandpa's old farmhouse… or at least I think that’s where we’re going.
The farmhouse looks exactly like the picture grandpa keeps on his nightstand. Aged wooden floors, some stains and cracks here and there, but overall charming. A small window next to the door and another above the door, both still intact thank goodness. I don’t know a thing about fixing windows. My eyes lock on the wood pile shed area to the side. My mind immediately can’t comprehend possibly filling it…will I need to do that for winters?? I don’t recall that in the picture.
Robin leads me up the little stairs, and I’m soon swallowed by the old musky smell of the farmhouse. It’s my first time here but every second solidified the familiarity in my bones. Mayor Lewis is an older gentleman, with thick eyebrows and mustache, a brown cap resting atop his still thick clean cut hair. He doesn’t stand very tall but you wouldn’t know it looking at him. He greets me diplomatically and Robin snorts. I couldn’t hardly ignore feeling drawn to the four walls surrounding me.
Dusty shelves littered with withered flowers once added life, only showcase the passing of time. A few pieces of old furniture fill the space, some old photos on the wall, even a little manual coffee maker takes residence in the kitchen. I’m sure the pantry is empty but nice to know I’ll at least be able to enjoy my favorite warm beverage… if it works that is.
As I do my silent inventory, Robin and Mayor Lewis seem to be engaged in some banter of their own. I manage to tune in as they go back and forth, little harmless jabs. I wonder if grandpa knew them well? If they were friends back then?
Just as I start letting my mind wander at the thought, Mayor Lewis shoots a look at Robin before aiming a smile at me, "alright then, we'll allow our newest Stardew citizen to settle in.”
Robin beams, her energy radiating warmth, “feel free to stop by for any supplies or building needs! It’s up the pathway by the creepy cave.”
Mayor Lewis pinches his brow before addressing me once more, “Welcome to Stardew Miss Jude, please don't hesitate to reach out, we help one another around here" he says with a firmness.
Mayor Lewis gives me a wink before walking out the front door, Robin waving goodbye as she follows.
The door closing behind them, engulfing my empty house in cold silence. I begin really looking around now, mindlessly searching for something I can't quite put my finger on. My fingers trace over that same dust on the shelves, wondering what secrets grandpa left behind. He was like that my whole life. Everything had another message, a hidden meaning, a lesson. I go to take some sandalwood from my backpack and light the end, creating a pillowing haze as I brush it along the frame of my new home. The pillows of smoke kissing the wood, as if to love away any negativity, just like Grandpa taught me.
His lessons always made sense as I got older. 'Don't worry, my poppy. Pain only helps us realize how deep our hearts can go'. His gentle voice cooed in my ear after I ran home from school when a girl threw her lunch in my face. Tears stained my face and red spaghetti sauce stained my shirt, “it will pass and you will grow from where the scar heals.”
I smile as I place the still burning sandalwood in an old shell, some lessons are meant to be practiced forever I suppose. My attention returns towards the dust covered boxes in the corner. I steadily unpack each one as I hum away.
It's been hours, the spring air offering a cool breeze, my new space is sparsely decorated and furnished. A photograph from my old life mixed with some furniture grandpa left behind. Some dried wildflowers I placed in a vase I found rests on the table. An ancient TV humming on the console. A full sized bed nestled in the corner, laden with cozy blankets from a closet. Clothes from my old life now mixed with Grandpa’s old coats.
My fireplace is ready for the harshly beautiful winters I heard stories about as a child. Grandpa didn't speak much about the details of his childhood or day to day life here in Stardew. But I knew Grandpa. I could hear it in his voice and in the way his eyes flickered when he spoke of the weather, the farming, the farmhouse it was special.
When I asked him why he left he never gave a straight answer, always something shrouded in secrecy. "One day I will tell you, my poppy. You must learn how to listen before you hear truths" he'd tell me while sipping his coffee, his eyes always soft with a hint of sadness and longing. I now lift my own coffee to my lips, the bitter liquid offering a warmth in my belly. I looked out my window, the sun had set rather quickly here compared to the city. I guess that's what happens when you live in a valley.
My head tilts slightly as my eyes trace a dark outline of something my brain can't recognize. Is that a tree?
A shrub? An animal? A....person?
No.
My heart begins racing as I close my eyes before looking out again, this time more intently. It appeared somewhat tall, dark, and I can't discern anything beyond its potential danger. I didn't get a good look at the property when I first arrived in the daylight. All I saw was a mess of work to be done so naturally I had spent the whole day on the inside in avoidance.
As my eyes adjusted and I focused on the endless rolling night outside my window, a chill rushed down my spine.
I rub my eyes vigorously, panic soaking my bloodstream.
I slowly lowered myself, my arm extended to a box cutter on the table, not daring to break eye contact with the darkness.
My finger slips and the box cutter clatters to the ground, stealing my attention. I twist my head back to the unknown, eyes frenzied to find the potential danger.
Branches sway in the nothingness, my mind scanning for life but finding nothing.
I exhale, my body shaking as I try to come down from the adrenaline dump. My mind can only flashback to that night as my body relives it. I keep repeating my mantra,
‘you are okay, you are safe’
and focus on my breathing. It feels like hours, the urge to hide, the dread of fleeing, the crushing feeling in my chest prevails. I give myself a hug, trying to trust my current surroundings. My heart slowly returns to its normal pace, my mind returning to my body. I give myself a final squeeze before standing straight once more.
I double checked that my door’s still locked. It is. Still feeling slightly uneasy, I simply chalk it up to the unnecessary caffeine and new environment... right? I’m alone, without any reason to be afraid. I internally attempt to outsmart my own anxiety as I walk straight into bed, curling into the comfort and safety of my own blankets. Box cutter just under my pillow, my hand resting on the cool metal handle. I’m safe, but not ignorant to the danger looming over me.
Monsters can still get you even if you're under the covers.