Charlie (UNREVISED)

Epilogue

July 14th, 2020 (I know.)

"Charlie! I swear, if you don't get up—"

I slowly raise from my bed, eyesight blurry and blinking back my exhaustion with my hair sticking every which way.

"I'm up..." I mumble groggily, slowly turning my body to get my feet on the floor.

"I'm up..." I repeat lowly just when my bedroom door opens and my father, looking much happier and healthier, crosses his arms.

"I swear, the older you get, the more you sleep."

"I'm up, though."

My father blinks at me as if I've lost a couple of brain cells. "Angel's going to be here in twenty minutes."

I jump from my bed, stumbling over dirty clothes that I've haphazardly thrown to the floor over the week as I make a dash to my closet.

"Dad! Why didn't you give me at least an hour!?" I shout from within my closet, my abilities throwing even more clothes around my room as I search for something hot to wear.

"I did. An hour ago. You even responded."

"Did you even check to see if I was awake?!"

"No."

I groan angrily, grabbing a towel before stomping my way to the bathroom.

My mother stands behind my dad as she grins with amusement. "It's not like he's never seen you so unkempt before!"

I didn't respond, turning on the shower and quite literally speeding my way through it. Soap flew all over the walls, curses flying out of my mouth with how many times I dropped the bottles, which landed on my feet.

I quickly rip the curtain back after shutting off the water, hurrying to dry my body and trying to maneuver my just dried off skin into my shorts.

I tried to make my hair look presentable, before exiting the bathroom and running down the hallway.

"Where's Henry?! I need to put on his shirt!"

I run across the living room, heading to the backdoors, and my father stands from where he sits on the couch.

"Excuse me, young man! I said you couldn't wear those shorts!"

"Dad, I'll be eighteen in like two months!"

I open the backdoor with my mother watching from the kitchen in amusement as my father stomps after me.

"I thought I told you to get rid of those! Why wear any pants at all?!"

My dad and I bicker as I grab a racing Henry and try to force him into the cute little shirt Angel sent me a couple of weeks ago in the mail.

As I walk back into the house with Henry in my arms, the brooms and dusters are up cleaning all the rooms by themselves as my mother takes out all the food she made the night before.

"—and if he's staying, he's sleeping on the couch!"

"Dad—"

"The door remains open three inches if you're both in your room alone—"

"Are you kidding right now—!?"

I can hear the rolling of tires, and my dad and I move to open the front door as Adler's truck rolls through the trees.

I set Henry down next to me, grinning as my father finally quiets. He huffs, leaning against the door with his arms crossed as Adler honks the horn behind the wheel.