Tell Me What You Guys Think Of This!
Waffles POV //:
29th Febuary 1981
Tears filled the clouds, darkness devoured the earth, sadness fled across Truffle city. Mum was crying a river, more than enough tears to fill a bath tub, roughly around a meter long. I walked through the daunted lounge, there sat, The Chair. It was old, worn out yet no longer in the hands of grandad. He had died a few hours ago. A horrible death. It had touched the lives of those who loved and those who hated. He was always there for me, every minute of my depressed life. He'd never break promises nor had ever made any. He was always there for me and that will never change. I sat into The Chair, sat on it with anger, sinking all thoughts and rapidly erupting in my mind. It hurt me for a while until someone knocked the door. Extremely loudly yet slowly. 3 times to be exact. I carefully got up, crept towards the door and looked into the hole. No one. It must have been pranksters I thought to myself. It wasn't a good time to be doing things like that, lowlife people wouldn't understand.. My point is, your wasting your time. My father abandoned me, left me in fear, locked me up in a house. My mother had found me, he had kept me hostage only if my mother had given him all her money. She would do anything for me. My father is probably seeking glory. Living on the streets. Always doing the things my mother would call 'bad habits' which was true. It had all made sense to me. I thought carefully and chose the better decision. My grandad would always give me advice, take me to the park and all sorts. If only I could be there for him in that specific moment. All there was left on his bedside table: pills, water, knife. The darkest hours had brought him death. Why couldn't it have been me? What caused him to do such thing? Engraved in my mind, never to forget.
My little brother, pancake, he had mixed emotions going through his head. Especially at a young stage. He was only 4. He didn't know what to expect. Pancake would keep screaming and asking where grandpa had been. We would all tell him that he went on a really long holiday, in a place far far away, up in the skies. We would say it in a low saddened voice. Non of us will forget. Not even the screams and howls he had made when he...
Waffles POV //:
29th Febuary 1981
Tears filled the clouds, darkness devoured the earth, sadness fled across Truffle city. Mum was crying a river, more than enough tears to fill a bath tub, roughly around a meter long. I walked through the daunted lounge, there sat, The Chair. It was old, worn out yet no longer in the hands of grandad. He had died a few hours ago. A horrible death. It had touched the lives of those who loved and those who hated. He was always there for me, every minute of my depressed life. He'd never break promises nor had ever made any. He was always there for me and that will never change. I sat into The Chair, sat on it with anger, sinking all thoughts and rapidly erupting in my mind. It hurt me for a while until someone knocked the door. Extremely loudly yet slowly. 3 times to be exact. I carefully got up, crept towards the door and looked into the hole. No one. It must have been pranksters I thought to myself. It wasn't a good time to be doing things like that, lowlife people wouldn't understand.. My point is, your wasting your time. My father abandoned me, left me in fear, locked me up in a house. My mother had found me, he had kept me hostage only if my mother had given him all her money. She would do anything for me. My father is probably seeking glory. Living on the streets. Always doing the things my mother would call 'bad habits' which was true. It had all made sense to me. I thought carefully and chose the better decision. My grandad would always give me advice, take me to the park and all sorts. If only I could be there for him in that specific moment. All there was left on his bedside table: pills, water, knife. The darkest hours had brought him death. Why couldn't it have been me? What caused him to do such thing? Engraved in my mind, never to forget.
My little brother, pancake, he had mixed emotions going through his head. Especially at a young stage. He was only 4. He didn't know what to expect. Pancake would keep screaming and asking where grandpa had been. We would all tell him that he went on a really long holiday, in a place far far away, up in the skies. We would say it in a low saddened voice. Non of us will forget. Not even the screams and howls he had made when he...
