Post by Isaac Lahey on Feb 5, 2013 21:36:38 GMT -5
Isaac sat in the darkness of his kitchen; his father's kitchen... or really it was his mother's kitchen at one time. Yes, so Isaac sat in his mother's kitchen and it helped a little with the worried thoughts crowding his mind. His mothers kitchen was warm. His mother's kitchen smelled good. She always had a full meal. It was like magic. She'd work all day and them suddenly she would be home and in an hour there was wonderful smells. He didn't understand about packaged food and pre-made meals or that a crock-pot would cook all day while she was at work. All he knew was the kitchen was happy.
Well it used to be... Isaac looked down at the broken mug and rotted meal. He was supposed to have cleaned that up. The tall boy knelt down on one knee and began to gather the shards. A few drops of blood appeared on his palms. It didn't matter really. He would just heal. There were not going to be any more scars for him.
He was safe.
Empty.
Well it used to be... Isaac looked down at the broken mug and rotted meal. He was supposed to have cleaned that up. The tall boy knelt down on one knee and began to gather the shards. A few drops of blood appeared on his palms. It didn't matter really. He would just heal. There were not going to be any more scars for him.
He was safe.
Empty.