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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐧
𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐
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H E R
For the first time in my life, I was glad my parents were dead.
Because it meant they couldn't see the horrendous disaster of a mess I had gotten myself in.
We decided to wait on telling Rick. In fact, we didn't tell anyone. Part of me felt that if we didn't tell anyone, it was not as real.
It was easier that way. For the better. Ignoring thing like we always have.
Something had changed within Carl, though.
While he still had his moments of light, there was a newfound vitality in him, a glimmer of hope that hadn't been there before. His eyes, once clouded with despair, now held a spark of determination. Yet, beneath that surface of rejuvenation, I couldn't ignore the lingering shadows that clung to him like a second skin. There was a dark streak in him, a promise of vengeance and destruction that simmered just below the surface.
He suppressed it, kept the anger brewing under his skin, coiled like a serpent in his fingertips and the soles of his feet. His sharp tongue, once a tool for banter, now lay in wait, ready to unleash a torrent of crippling words. I could see the tension in his calloused hands, trembling at his sides, yearning for the moment when they would once again be filled with the weight of a weapon.
My worry for Carl was a constant, insidious presence. I feared that his inner darkness, if left unchecked, would consume him entirely. The hope I saw in him was fragile, a delicate thread that could easily snap under the weight of his unspoken rage. As I watched him, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge, one misstep away from being lost to the vengeance that was brewing in his chest.
