07-25-2018, 11:13 PM
He could remember when he first came to this small town.
He was young then, only seventeen or so. His sister was cradled in his arms, though he struggled somewhat to carry her, blood quickly seeping into his own clothes and sticking to his skin. Panic had begun to settle in quickly, but he tried to keep his cool the best he could. He was used to playing such a role. He had been the parent to his younger sibling ever since their parents died, though they both passed in very different ways, both of them dying just before mankind fell.
He had brought her there to treat her, a mixture of tears and snot dribbling down his face. He didn't want her to die. He couldn't be left alone, not again. Collapsing just as they reached the town, he held his younger sister close to his chest as he cried out, pleading for them to help her. Much to his relief, they had accepted her and did their best to save her--but the bullet wound to her stomach inevitably claimed her life.
Of course, in any cliched backstory fashion, he blamed himself for it. He obsessed over what he could have done different every day for a long time, driving himself crazy with all the possible outcomes where she didn't die. In the end, as he grew older, he came to accept the fact that she was gone. The self-loathing was still there, just underneath the surface, but he was still improving bit by bit. It was better than wallowing all the time.
As rain lightly drizzled down from the sky, Charlie sat outside on the steps in the front of his house, cigarette held between his lips. The smoke filtered up into the air as he stared out, growing wetter with each moment he stayed there in the rain. But he barely paid any mind, even as the clouds gradually parted and the rain stopped.
//this first post is so sucky im srRY
He was young then, only seventeen or so. His sister was cradled in his arms, though he struggled somewhat to carry her, blood quickly seeping into his own clothes and sticking to his skin. Panic had begun to settle in quickly, but he tried to keep his cool the best he could. He was used to playing such a role. He had been the parent to his younger sibling ever since their parents died, though they both passed in very different ways, both of them dying just before mankind fell.
He had brought her there to treat her, a mixture of tears and snot dribbling down his face. He didn't want her to die. He couldn't be left alone, not again. Collapsing just as they reached the town, he held his younger sister close to his chest as he cried out, pleading for them to help her. Much to his relief, they had accepted her and did their best to save her--but the bullet wound to her stomach inevitably claimed her life.
Of course, in any cliched backstory fashion, he blamed himself for it. He obsessed over what he could have done different every day for a long time, driving himself crazy with all the possible outcomes where she didn't die. In the end, as he grew older, he came to accept the fact that she was gone. The self-loathing was still there, just underneath the surface, but he was still improving bit by bit. It was better than wallowing all the time.
As rain lightly drizzled down from the sky, Charlie sat outside on the steps in the front of his house, cigarette held between his lips. The smoke filtered up into the air as he stared out, growing wetter with each moment he stayed there in the rain. But he barely paid any mind, even as the clouds gradually parted and the rain stopped.
//this first post is so sucky im srRY
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