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31_days2009-09-15 08:40 pm
rosehiptea.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-09-15 08:40 pm
[September 15] [Silent Hill] Never Coming Home
Title: Never Coming Home
Day/Theme: September 15/inevitable flooding of one’s soul
Series: Silent Hill
Character/Pairing: Frank Sunderland
Rating: PG
Word Count: 227
Frank still remembers the day he realized that James was never coming home. He had denied it for years, telling himself that miracles happened, that people disappeared and years later, there they were.
But deep inside he knew that something had happened to James. Why else would he not have even called, even sent a letter to let his own father know where he was?
Mary, she must have died, as sick as she was, and James… perhaps James had followed her.
For a while he tried to believe that James had been too sad or angry to contact him, but as the years went by he became convinced that that wasn’t true either. And finally one day it all just washed over him like a wave: James was dead and he was never coming home.
He was half-way through a fifth of vodka before he decided he himself had to go on. Not that he had so much to live for, with his wife gone long ago and his son gone too. But there was a building to take care of, with people who depended on him.
And of course there was still a tiny part of him whispering “He isn’t really gone… wait for him.” And no matter how many realizations he came to or how much he drank, Frank would hear that voice forever.
Day/Theme: September 15/inevitable flooding of one’s soul
Series: Silent Hill
Character/Pairing: Frank Sunderland
Rating: PG
Word Count: 227
Frank still remembers the day he realized that James was never coming home. He had denied it for years, telling himself that miracles happened, that people disappeared and years later, there they were.
But deep inside he knew that something had happened to James. Why else would he not have even called, even sent a letter to let his own father know where he was?
Mary, she must have died, as sick as she was, and James… perhaps James had followed her.
For a while he tried to believe that James had been too sad or angry to contact him, but as the years went by he became convinced that that wasn’t true either. And finally one day it all just washed over him like a wave: James was dead and he was never coming home.
He was half-way through a fifth of vodka before he decided he himself had to go on. Not that he had so much to live for, with his wife gone long ago and his son gone too. But there was a building to take care of, with people who depended on him.
And of course there was still a tiny part of him whispering “He isn’t really gone… wait for him.” And no matter how many realizations he came to or how much he drank, Frank would hear that voice forever.