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Prove that you don't need luck

You play as Delilah, an unfortunate young girl going through tough times.

=Links and Information=


Thanks to an anon, here is the pastebin of just the text. With threads purposely being misarchived, this should be available and accessible instead:
Melancholic Quest Collection 1 (1-4): http://pastebin.com/hTK0fQmd
Melancholic Quest Collection 2: http://pastebin.com/cX4HC6Q9
Melancholic Quest Collection 3: http://pastebin.com/sTuR8xJv
Melancholic Quest Collection 4: http://pastebin.com/RPwa7nEt
Melancholic Quest Collection 5: http://pastebin.com/DJ71TtFc
Melancholic Quest Collection 6: http://pastebin.com/xxCdZfx6
Melancholic Quest Collection 7: http://pastebin.com/7skcyeX0
Thread 29 (Misarchived as Gorgon Child) http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/700562/
Talbot family picture edition

Last time on MQ;
>Granny is away and waiting for surgery
>Mom might be taken by Aunt Julie, who hasn’t been seen in years
>Delilah has a difficult night after sleeping alone in her room
>Crockett and Camilla know she sleeps in Lawrence’s room at night

You are now Lawrence
>Crockett is wary of you, Camilla more accepting
>Both have given their threats if anything happens to Delilah
>Crockett gave the location for someone’s location, to be visited tonight
>Right now, Lawrence is on the road driving

In flashback, Lawrence remembers the night after Michele snuck out to see her boyfriend at the time, Charlie. After not coming out of her room all day and worrying both their parents…
You snuffed out the voice telling you to speak up. If sending mom and dad in made things worse and Michele knew it was thanks to you…

The idea of your sister never speaking to you again was frightening. Even if it was often difficult, she was one of the few you could confide in.

“Jack, if she doesn’t come down by morning-”

“If she hasn’t come down by morning we’ll step in,” grumbled Dad, “but she’s probably just being stubborn. You remember how it was when we wouldn’t let her go on that concert trip with that boy.”

He kept his face towards his plate as Mom stared at him, unsure if she should yell at him or go up there herself. And you sat in place, silent and letting your parents worry between themselves.

“Michele needs to eat something,” she looked back towards the stairs.

“Leave it in the fridge for her.”

“And what if she doesn’t?”

Dad shook his head, “One day isn’t going to hurt her. If she’s really that hungry, she’ll wait for us to go to sleep and then sneak down here herself.”

Despite how he spoke, Dad was just as worried for Michele as the rest of you. Something was off, but not yet enough to make them intervene. If they knew what you knew, they wouldn’t have wasted a second to get that door open.

The rest of dinner was quiet and uncomfortable, each of you checking the stairs in hopes of Michele walking down and making everything okay.

It never happened and you excused yourself early to bed. At some point Mom came to knock at your sister’s door. Eavesdropping from your room, you could hear her ask Micehle if everything was alright. The answer was too soft for you to hear, but Mom replied ‘okay’ and left her alone.

You waited until both your parents went to bed and then an hour longer. There was no way you could fall asleep, and your eyes adjusted to the pitch black long before climbing out your window.
Around to the other side and you were at Michele’s window soon enough. Your knuckles rapped against the glass, and when that brought no answer you pushed the pane open.

“Michele?” you whispered out as you got one leg through the window, “it’s me, are you awake?”

Still no answer by the time your body squeezed through. Moonlight from outside was too weak to see anything, but you knew the layout of her room well enough by now.

You whispered her name out again and again as you inched towards her bed. There wasn’t any plan on what you would do upon finding her, if you’d wake her up or if she was even here at all.

Finding out that she was sitting hunched over in the corner of her bed made your heart skip. Michele was awake, but she wasn’t responding at all. Fear took over logic as you scrambled onto the bed, reaching out to grab her shoulder.

“Hey, say something Michele. You’re scaring me-” You found her shoulder but Michele’s hand shoved it away.

Her voice hissed from the blankets, “Go away.”

“Mom and Dad are worried about you,” you reached for her again, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

A pillow was shoved at your face as vitriolic words follow, “I said go away!”

Michele really struggled to push you away now, and you tried to fight back only enough to stay. But she never stopped and you wound up on the floor, breath knocked out of you and head spinning.

“Ouch- dammit that hurts…!” The words gasped out as you reeled from the pain. Michele still didn’t stop, and she followed off the bed. She began to strike you as knelt over your body, her knee digging into your side and her words lashing out as well.

“I told you to go! Leave me alone already! I don’t want you here!!!”

“C-can’t we talk about this?” You winced each time she struck down and your arms came to block the blows. “What happened?”

“You know what happened!” Michele’s words had an icy hold on your chest. Never had you heard your sister so upset- this was something new and terrible, a deep kind of pain that you didn’t know was possible for her. “Get the fuck outta my life! You’ve done enough!”
“What the hell are you talking about-” A sting rippled across your face as Michele got a hit in, and her hand went for your throat next. “I’m sorry-” you gasped, “W-whatever I did, I’m sorry-”

“It’s too late Charlie-” The fingers around your throat instantly loosened and Michele drew back her hand. “I’m sorry Lawrence, I knew it was you. Oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t m-mean to do this I just, I felt so scared and a-angry. I didn’t mean to h-hurt you-”

Michele’s weight pulls off your body as she falls back against the floor, knees pulled up to her chest as she sobs into her arms.

Dazed, you still manage to sit up to watch your sister cry. She had changed so drastically and so quickly, it made you scared of how she would react next. This wasn’t a side of your sister that you had seen before, and it shook you down to the core.

Not knowing what else to do or so, you reached out for her again. “What happened?” Your hand touched her arm and in an instant, Michele jumped at you. This time she didn’t attack, but held tight to you.

“Last night was a mistake,” she sobbed against your shoulder, “It was a stupid, stupid mistake.”

Once again you were in shock, and it took time for you to reach up to carefully pat her on the back. “Did he do something?”
“Charlie is such a fucking...they’re all fucking assholes…!” Her fingers dug into your shoulders as she spat out the name, “They’re rats. The w-worst, slimy fucking… I shouldn’t have left. I knew they were bad, I knew b-better.”

You tried to look at her through the dark, searching in vain for any bruises or cuts. “What did they do?

It took time for Michele to stop crying long enough to answer. As you held her, a fire began to swell up inside. That wasn’t a new feeling, it happened plenty and plenty of times before. Never had it burnt so white hot and painful. Muscles tensed, hands shaking, teeth biting down with a numbing pain.

“They p-...” Michele’s fingers dug deeper into your shoulders as she forced herself to speak, “They put the school s-slut in her place…”

You had to ball up your fists to keep from grabbing Michele. The fire peaked, reaching the very tips of your fingers. Never had you heard your sister hurt so badly before and no idea of how you could possibly fix it.

But you did have the names of who was responsible.

>You gave in to the anger that night, attacking Charlie without thinking
>You stewed in the anger for a day, trying to come up with a plan to jump Charlie
>... [write-in]
>You stewed in the anger for a day, trying to come up with a plan to jump Charlie
you gotta stew on that grudge for a few days
>You stewed in the anger for a day.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, right?
>You gave in to the anger that night, attacking Charlie without thinking
Young, dumb, and full of cum. Trouble always came a'lookin for the Talbot boy, he always tried to walk away if he could, but he just couldn't turn the other cheek this time. It all came to a head that night.
You held tight to Michele. She was the only thing keeping you from running out into the night, to act upon the fire searing you up inside. There was nothing you could say, your head was a mess of anger and confusion. At that moment you only kind of understood what exactly she was talking about- the rest of the details came later.

It burnt you up inside all the same.

“Y-...you have to tell Mom and Dad.” Your words came out dryly, but it was amazing that you could even form a cohesive thought.

“I will…” she nodded, finally pulling her fingernails from your back, “I just, i need some time before I do that.”

“You shouldn’t wait-” The scolding came to a bloody stop when you gnashed down on your lip. Dealing with these angry feelings was hard enough already. The older you became, the harder and harder it was to keep those emotions in check. Gone was the little boy who was always pushed around. Now you were on the cusp of being a young man, and violent revenge was all you could think about.

Trouble was never a stranger to you, but now you were prepared to drag it out kicking and screaming.

“I need at least morning,” sniffed Michele, “I’m not r-ready for them to yell at me yet. They’re going to be so angry… They’re going to tell me they knew better…”

Besides being enraged, you felt sad for your sister. How could you not, there’s never a time you’ve seen her so broken. “...and you’re not hurt? I mean, you know… you don’t need a doctor or something, right?”

“Bruises heal,” she mumbled bitterly, “but Lawrence will you stay in here tonight? I think I’m a little too scared to sleep alone tonight…”

Your hands were still balled up in shaky fists when you agreed. Words were escaping you. The feelings bubbling down inside were clear yet left you feeling lost. If you couldn’t sleep before, it was going to be impossible now.

Sleep was something you could do after figuring out a plan to face Charlie. It could wait until you went out and smashed his stupid fucking face into the sidewalk-

“Do you need any of the blankets?”

“No,” you answered quickly. Michele was huddled up on her half of the bed, keeping some distance to where you laid precariously on the edge.
“You’re going to get cold…” It was hard to believe she could be thinking of something like that right then. You should have been far from her worries as far as you were concerned.

“You know that I don’t.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh. But for the past hour or so you had to lay there, going over plan after stupid plan in your head. How you would approach Charlie, if you would say anything first or go in swinging, when you should stop-

Michele’s body turned to your direction, “Then why aren’t you asleep yet?”

The rage hadn’t died down a bit and you tried your best to hide it.

“How do you know I wasn’t sleeping?” A conversation you two could have had on any other night, but you suddenly felt out of place during it.

“Cause otherwise I’d have to complain about your snoring.” Michele managed to flash a painful grin at you, her voice and body weaker than before. Your silence made her smile fall, and she whispered out to you again. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet…”

>You told Michele that you were going to get revenge for her
>You apologized for being unable to make her stay home last night
>You confessed that you hadn’t been able to think clearly
>>You told Michele that you were going to get revenge for her

Gentle reminder that some of you caused Delilah to kill this poor girl
>You confessed that you hadn’t been able to think clearly
Weird hollow feeling and all the bad emotions are rattling around.

Someone needs to tell Del Michele OD'd. She's still blaming herself for that.
That was because del stuck her in the gut. Best boy and the police were just outside and would've made it in time if she hadn't stabbed! :(
Is what Del will convince herself of, yeah.
>You tell Michele you're going to get revenge for her.
Holy hell this is still going?
Congrats man that's impressive!
>You told Michele that you were going to get revenge for her

God, that feels so long ago.
But the pain still feels fresh.

We'll get Delilah to the end eventually.
One slow ass thread at a time.
>You confessed that you hadn’t been able to think clearly
She doesn't like it when we let anger take the reins. The least we can do is not cause her more grief right now.
I hope you guys don't expect to change the outcome of this revenge mission. It's supposed to backfire horribly.
Michele had to wait before you finally answered.

“It’s like I’ve got a hundred things happening in my head all at once,” you mumbled, “and I can’t focus on any of it. It feels like my head is going to explode.”

“Oh…” she cooed, “Did I make you feel that upset? If you’re like this, then I can’t imagine what Dad is going to be like.” In quieter voice she said, “...he’s going to be so mad.”

“Don’t worry about him,” you spoke as fire rose up in your chest again, “Even if he doesn’t do anything, I’ll take care of them.”

Michele sprang upright, flinging aside the blankets to come lean over you. “What do you mean by that?” she asked in that quiet, stern voice she picked up from mom.

“If he hurt you, then I’m going to go hurt him. I’ll show him that he can’t go around hurting people like that, I… I might even kill him. I know I’ve said that before but this time I mean it.”

She looked down at you in awe, her fingers gripping into the sheets. A tired, sad sigh fell from her lips before she answered, “No Lawrence, you can’t. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” You sat up at this point and once again, you spoke harshly at her.

“Do you remember that Finnegan boy, the red headed kid from my grade?”

You nodded in silence.

“And there was that one day where he and Charlie got into that fight in school? Well the whole reason that even started was because Charlie doesn’t ever know when to stop with the fucking jokes-”

This time it was Michele’s turn to calm down and she hit the mattress in frustration.

“...well, anyways. Charlie took things too far, as fucking usual. So that other boy finally snaps and pops him right in the face. Knocked him right on his ass but it his black eye was gone after a day.”

“Didn’t that kid move away?”

“He got sent away,” she trembled, “Charlie’s uncle is the judge here. He took that Finnegan boy to court, and they sent him away for four years. If you even tried to do something like kill him...”

You hadn’t thought about what would happen to you after. But you pushed down that fear, “That’s okay. It’s worth it to make sure you never have to see his face around here again.”

“Are you kidding? You can’t go to prison!” Michele wasn’t holding back anymore as she grabbed your shoulders, trying to make you look at her. “Are you crazy? Do you really want to spend forever locked away? Do you have any idea what that would do to mom? You can’t be a fuck up too!”

Thinking about Mom made you feel pangs of guilt in your chest, yet you also felt even madder. “...you sound like dad when you say that.”

“Except he’d never call you that,” she spoke gently this time.

“He’d never call you that either.”
“Wait until I talk to them…” Michele gripped your shoulders again, shaking and choking on her words. “Please Lawrence, I don’t want to see you locked away. Besides, I think you’re the only friend I can trust now. You’ve done anything to hurt me.”

“What about that time I broke your nose?” That was the first thing that came to mind, and Michele gave a raspy laugh.

“What? Oh, you mean when you hit me with the football? You didn’t break my nose.” She let go of you and fell back onto the bed, holding herself tight. “Just let it go, okay? I’ll let Mom and Dad yell at me tomorrow and I’ll never, ever mention that asshole’s name again. And then when we go camping again, it’s my turn to break your nose with the football.”

You’re not sure if Michele managed to fall asleep after that, or if you both just laid there in silence. But you kept awake, fighting the new confliction you felt. Maybe she was right, maybe you shouldn’t go through with it. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought and you were coming up with crazy plans for nothing. By the time the sunlight peeked through the window you were ready to forgo the plans of revenge.

That fire raged through you again once you watched Michele tell your parents what happened. Seeing her collapse in Mom’s arms as she tries to comfort her daughter in vain. Dad in shock about what he should do, pacing and stomping about, muttering about what he’d do if he finds that boy.

This was the lowest you had seen your family. There was no way you were going to let him walk away after that.

“That’ll be $4.75.”

You pass over cash to pay for the duct tape and cup of shitty, burnt coffee. The middle aged gas station attendant counts out the change, handing it back over to you.

“Say, aren’t you the Talbot’s kid?” he asks, looking you up and down as the coins fall into your palm. There’s a grimace across your face as you put the change away and the man looks closer. “Yeah, what’s your name ah- Lawrence, right? Your Jack’s son. We go to church together.”

You grab the tape and coffee, hoping to leave quickly. Coming back to your hometown like this wouldn’t usually be something you’d want. And it’s really not what you want not, but you had to come today.

“Say, how have they been? Haven’t seen them at church lately, and I know your dad’s vision has been bothering him-” he stops to look you over, glaring at your perceived rudeness. A moment later and the look jumps from his face, “Ah right, sorry! I forgot about the whole uh, talking thing.”

Looking up at him you give a quick nod before walking out. You get back to the car, glad to be back inside and secluded away. Already you can feel your skin crawl, itching and never quite feeling settled.

You pull out a cigarette, wasting no time getting it lit and no effort to roll down the window. The smoke helps, but only for a few precious moments after you finish.

But being back home would have made your skin itch anyways, and you allow yourself a second cigarette right away.

You didn’t have to go to school that day. Neither Mom or Dad could split their attention away from Michele long enough to notice that you stayed, and that was fine with you. It meant no one bothered you were planning for that night.

It was evening before you left the house. Mom had been with Michele in her room for most of the day, staying by her side trying to comfort her. Dad had gone between making demands to different people over the phone and running in and out of the house. When it was time for you to leave he was doing neither of those things.

Instead he stood in the living room, facing the large cabinet in front of him. He was looking at something in his hands, but you didn’t pay any mind as you walked by.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You froze at the front door. Dad turned to look at you, though whatever he was looking at held behind his back. In your own pocket, a pocket knife was held tight.


He sighed with frustration, “Out where?”

Of course he was in a bad mood and so were you. Knowing what you had to do was stressful enough, but talking to Dad right before didn’t help either. Leaving the house only ended up as its own disaster-

>You called Dad a coward for always looking at that gun in his hand but never using it, you ran out before he could say anything
>You tried to lie and say that you were going out for a walk, Dad was super distrustful of you
>You told him that you were going to take care of things, and you two got into a brief fight before you left
>You told him that you were going to take care of things, and you two got into a brief fight before you left
>You told him that you were going to take care of things, and you two got into a brief fight before you left
>>You told him that you were going to take care of things, and you two got into a brief fight before you left
A snarl was on your face as you answered, “I’m going to take care of everything.”

“I asked where you’re going.” Dad started walking towards you.

“Depends,” you were reaching the point where filtering your words was too much, “if he’s home I’m going to break his fucking face there. Otherwise I guess I’ll be looking around town until I find him.”

“Like hell you are,” his voice raised and boomed against the walls. It would usually have been enough to make you freeze in place, but this time you stood there unflinched. “You’re staying here while we get this whole mess figured out.”

Backing out wasn’t an option now. If he was able to hurt your family this badly, there wasn’t any chance you could let Charlie walk around unpunished. He was the reason your sister no longer felt safe in her own room, the reason why you had to watch Mom break in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“No!” The side of your fist slammed against the doorway, “I’m doing this, dammit!”

“You’re staying here Lawrence and that’s final.”

“Fuck off with that!” You never yelled at Dad before, not like this. Fearful adrenaline kept your blood rushing painfully quick and the world itself was an unsteady blur around you. “Why don’t you stay here making all the stupid phone calls you want. I’ll go out and fix this shit.”

“Don’t you dare step out of this house-”

He approached you with outreached arms, ready to hold you in place if necessary. But you couldn’t allow that to happen and for the first time, you got physical with him. Only a hard shove to make him stagger back, but enough to allow you to run out the front door.

“God dammit- Lawrence!” he shouted behind you, holding his chest where your palms had struck. Dad stumbled after you, even getting partway down the street. But all you did was run, run and run and run while ignoring everything he shouted to make you stay.

Your lungs ached when you finally felt far enough away to stop. But there was no time to stop and catch your breath. Charlie’s house was only a few blocks away, and for now you were able to walk the neighborhoods in peace.

As far as you were concerned, Charlie was only minutes away from paying the price for what he did.

The house you grew up in sat dark and empty when you pulled up. The car sat up front as you followed the path up to the door. And after a few minutes of turning over icy rocks, you found the stashed away spare key and swung the door open.

“I’m home…” you croak out to no one. A thin layer coats the floorboards as you walk in and close the door behind. Your parents were being kept elsewhere for their own safety while Dad recovered from his injuries. There wasn’t any real reason for you to come here again, except to say goodbye to the place one last time.

Charlie hadn’t been home and you didn’t really expect him to be anyways. That Mustang he and his brother drove around town was always an easy find. And sure enough, you spotted their car parked at the abandoned train yard. It was somewhere teenagers liked to visit to drink and smoke, but tonight was going to be different. There was going to be blood, and you would have terrible memories of the place.

You were able to spy on the boys from a distance, hidden between the leftover boxcars on rusted tracks. Music and drunken laughter hid your footsteps easily, and it was finally time for you to act.

It was something you had to do, no matter how badly you were shaking at the thought.

>You went in swinging, attacking Charlie without a warning
>You called him out first, hoping he would take the first swing
>You went in with knife in hand, hoping to intimidate him first
>You called him out first, hoping he would take the first swing
>Waited to ambush him at his car
>You called him out first, hoping he would take the first swing
>You called him out first, hoping he would take the first swing
The boys continued to laugh wildly as you crept through the shadows. You even managed to sneak to the faded red Mustang, knelt behind it as the radio’s music echoed in the dark.

“No way, I could totally kick his ass. But Andrew could totally take you in a fight. Bet it’d only take one punch too-”

You held tight to the pocket knife as Charlie’s voice filled the air. Now that you were here you felt that white hot anger. Now that he was only feet away, you were so scared it took your breath away.

Everything was about to change, and it was all because of you. Changes you would have never imagined, far out of the scope of your teenage thinking. Even if you went home, it wouldn’t be the same. This felt like the only path to closure, and that alone made you come out from hiding.

The timing had been perfect. Charlie had come closer, fishing another beer from the cooler. Walking out from around his Mustang as he looked up caused the boy to yell in fright, falling to his ass while trying to back away.

“What the fuck?!” he shouted at you, his brother and another friend jumping up from their makeshift bonfire.

You were so focused on your target that you weren’t ever really sure which of the other boys was speaking. “Wait, who is that? He looks familiar ...”

“How the fuck should I know?” Charlie struggled to his feet, holding to his car for support. The beer bottle remain clutched in his other hand, and his eyes glared at you through the dark. “”So? Who the hell are you? Did you think you were gonna sneak off with our shit when we weren’t looking?”

“Y-....You know who I am.” From the shadows, you walked into the flickering orange glow. Never did your eyes leave Charlie, and you watched as his face turned into one of astonishment.

“Oh wait, that’s right. You’re uh, you’re Michele’s brother. I remember seeing you at school.” Shaking his head with a laugh Charlie added, “Just go home and do me a favor. Tell her to stop calling my house so much, it’s over. Unless she wants to come visit in person to tell me again, that sounds fun.”

It felt impossible to let go of the pocketknife. But with what little resolve remained, you weren’t going to even hit him first. Not if you could help it anyways. After all, if he hits you first, then there’s no way you could get in trouble.

That’s how it should have gone, right?

“Do you think that’s funny?” It hurt to so speak. Your throat, your chest, every muscle in your body- they all burned at once.

“Whoa hey, what’s with the attitude?” The shadows on his face bent with the smirk that came up. “Is it cause she’s already missing me? Hell, I have it in my heart to take her back. Just send her down here actually, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the cold.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you-!” You had almost begun to rush him, something Charlie looked amused with. It felt like your heart could explode at any second, it was beating so painfully quick. “What gives you the right to say that shit? Do you even have any idea how much you hurt her?”

“What?” he shrugged, “I fucked her plenty times before. What’s the big deal- she gave it up a few days ago. How was last night any different?”

Your vision blurred. The world beneath your feet spun. Out from your pocket came the folded knife, but you had to restrain that anger still.

“Is that really how you talk about people?” You had to stare at the dirt now. If you had seen Charlie’s face at that moment, you would have lost it. “It’s no wonder why your mom left you guys.”

You could feel Charlie’s anger before seeing it.

“Don’t you even fucking think about talking about her,” he growled, “you keep her out of your goddamn mouth.”

“Cause it’s true, huh? You and your brother think you can go around treating people like shit. I’d run away if you guys were my kids too. I bet she’d have fucking killed herself if she had to stay another day with you-”

The bridge of your nose broke once his fist made contact. All you could smell and taste was blood- your head was filled with a blinding, searing pain. Your back hit the Mustang and kept you from falling to the ground. It also gave Charlie an easier change to grab your shirt.

“You fucking piece of shit-” He pinned you to the car as his punches made contact again and again. The boys were hollering from behind, encouraging him on.

You blocked what hits you could, and somehow managed to kick him off. Somewhere, between the flashing lights in your eyes and the ringing in your ear, there was the sound of breaking glass.

“Come on Charlie, don’t let him talk shit like that. Knock his fucking teeth out!”

“I’ll do better than that!.” His voice approached from in front and you barely had time to look up. Charlie threw his whole body against you in a tackle, keeping you to ground with his weight on top. His hand held to your neck and his fingers began to squeeze the life out of you. “You come here talking shit like that and expect to leave?!”

You did everything to push him off. This wasn’t what you had planned. This wasn’t how your fights usually went. But you hadn’t been able to think straight at all. You were constantly trying to fight the feelings but also let them guide you. It was all one big, terrible mess, and it was only about to get worse.

At first, you hadn’t noticed the broken bottle in his hand. In fact, you’re sure the other boys hadn’t either. So engrossed in the fact that a fight was happening, they hadn’t thought about what Charlie was about to do.
“Stop acting like tough shit,” he shouted down. You were trying to keep him back, but the strength in your arms was wavering. Drops of beer dripped from the newly broken bottle, and Charlie never released his hold on your neck. “Even Michele put up a better fight than this!”

Your fingers dug at his eyes, “I’ll kill you for hurting her!”

When they were pushed away you went back to punching him, trying everything you could to connect with his face. With every last bit you had, you couldn’t let him win. If you had to blind him, tear out his tongue, break his legs-

“Stop- fighting me- fucking idiot!”

The last thing you heard was Charlie shouting. Glass shards pieced your neck, and finally there was something to take over the rage.

You could still breathe, just barely, but it didn’t feel like it. Every breath you gulped down seared with a raw pain. All you could do was gasp for air, even if each time it felt like swallowing more glass, and your sight went white from the pain.

There was yelling around you, but none of it was comprehensible. You tried to crawl away, maybe if you could just get home everything would be all better. If only you could go back and fall asleep in your own bed.

Those minutes of consciousness were spent in pure fear of death. Who knows how far you managed to get on your own. Or who was the one who took pity on you and called an ambulance. They mentioned that you hadn’t stayed awake long, but those seconds certainly felt like an eternity.

In only a few minutes, you had lost so much. When the pain began to give away to dark nothingness, you were certain death had come. You failed your sister, ruined Mom and Dad’s life even further, destroyed any chance for a normal life.

It was all gone, and it was all your fault.

The whisky burns more than usual as you choke on it. For the past few minutes you’ve just been laying in your old bed, drinking from one of the bottles you’d found in the kitchen. As nice as the buzz feels, you know better than to get too drunk. This was just to take that damn edge off, you told yourself, and to let you focus. Not that it wasn’t helpful for drowning out some of the painful memories of being here…

And in just a little bit, you need to get ready to visit your parents.

The panic hits all at once and you find yourself pacing the room. Your fidgeting fingers rediscover the note you had received from the lunch Delilah packed earlier.

You manage to calm down after rereading her message a few times and finishing a little more of the bottle than you had planned. Her kind words almost make you feel like you can get through today okay.

But it also makes you miss her too. That uneasiness from being away from her grows steadily now. Too much longer and it’ll grow into an overwhelming dread.

Thank god, your parents will never know how truly bad you’ve become.

After ‘borrowing’ some tools to help you tonight, you’re finally ready to drive away from the house. You said goodbye, going through each room one last time before locking up.

Before leaving, you-

>Did what it would take to make sure you’re not shaky and on edge while talking to your parents
>Brought Dad’s gun along as a useful memento
> ‘Borrowed’ some of the emergency money they had stashed in the house
>Took something from Michele’s room to remember her by
>Brought Dad’s gun along as a useful memento
>Took something from Michele’s room to remember her by
A memento might help keep us grounded, just a bit.

>Brought Dad’s gun along as a useful memento
Despite everything, a backup might be nice. Dad might appreciate having it back too.
This update is going to take me a bit longer, I'm sorry. I hit two animals on the drive back home and had to tape my car back together, and I'm only getting home super late. I swear I'm not ignoring updates or anything
Take your time famo, we know how it is.
You left the house with more than a hammer and some screwdrivers. Dad’s gun rests in the passenger seat, partially hidden by the coat you threw over top. While you didn’t hesitate to take it, using it is a different matter. But with that path you’ve chosen, it’s something you’re going to have to get used to eventually. If Delilah can get used to it, so can you.

Occasionally you reach across, picking it up to make sure it’s really still there. You’re going to need to learn how to take care of it, like Dad had done for all these years. Hell, at this point you’re almost certain Delilah could teach you-

Thinking about her so much makes you antsy. It feels like you aren’t moving fast enough, that everything is taking far too long. It’s a feeling that never fails to creep up when you go out now, it always hits sooner or later.

Get through today and you’ll get to go back. Everything will be fine again, and you’ll be able to breathe easy again. Once you walk back in through that door, all the panic welling up inside will just vanish. You’ll see that she was in fact okay while you were gone. Even better, you’ll be there again to make sure everything remains okay. You can be there and make sure nothing bad happens, to make sure she can sleep at night, to tell her how you took care of one of her nightmares-

The grip of the gun is warm from how tight you were holding it. You hide it away again and try to snuff out the fire in your chest. Right now is not the time to lose yourself.

First you need to visit your parents. After that, you can start seeing red.

“Alright if you could wait here please. I’ll go make sure Mr. Talbot is available for visitors.”

The nurse folds up your note and points to where you can sit in the waiting room. Only an elderly man sits in the small space, and you take to the chair furthest from him. He looks up from his newspaper occasionally but keeps to himself, letting you sit alone in peace.

Dad was going to be okay, that’s something you found out as soon as you could. But he needed to remain under care for a while longer for recovery. He and Mom have been staying at this small, private hospital for the meantime. It had made you worried at first, but the security you had to pass through to get in helped a bit.

As the wait grows longer you feel more and more impatient. Not that much time has passed, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you again. Your foot taps obnoxiously quick against the floor and over and over again, you have to make yourself stop.
Your fingertips begin rolling the beads of a bracelet between them. It was the last thing that you took from the house. Something you had spotted on Michele’s dresser, nothing big and fancy.

It’s just one of the bracelets she had learned to make at school and would do from time to time, usually to give to a friend of hers or for kids she would babysit. But now you had one of the last ones she made, and it’s the only thing keeping you from pacing the room like a mad man.

After the ‘accident’, everything was a blur or out of your memory completely. You remember brief glimpses of the ambulance ride and being wheeled into the hospital. But those times of consciousness hurt. Death was still on your mind during those times.

Even after the surgery to save your life had been completed, the suffering never stopped. You were only half aware of anything during those short times you did wake up, but it was never pleasant. For a few short minutes you’d find yourself in the hospital bed, all sorts of tubes and needles in your body, machines around you making noises and showing screens you couldn’t read. It was all so claustrophobic. Looking down at the IV’s in your room, you would freak out with the desire to pull them out, but never had the strength to try.

And almost always, you woke up alone. Realizing that never failed to frighten you. No matter how much you’d try though, calling out for anyone was impossible. The button to call a nurse in was within reach, but it was far from your mind in those moments of panic and pain.

Mom would tell you later that she had visited you every day during that time. You believe her, but she was never there in those frightening times of being awake.

One night though, you woke up and someone was sitting in the chair across the room. Blurry, drugged up sight made it hard to tell who it was at first, but you fought the urge to pass out until you were able to find out.

You let out a painful gasp upon seeing it was Michele there. The noise was just loud enough to jostle her awake and she ran to the bedside.
“Are you awake?” she whispered, eyes jumping from the gauze around your neck and the machines helping you breathe. Over and over again you tried to speak the answer, but none of your efforts could produce anything more than the weakest hush.

Michele knelt over, bringing her ear right up to your mouth, “Can you repeat that? Please Lawrence?”


Right away, she embraced you. Parts of your body were still sore, but she did her best to not cause you any more discomfort.

“Oh thank god…” she cried, her hand stroking over your hair, “I thought you were gone forever. I thought you’d never get to come home again. You scared me so bad Lawrence I-, I don’t know what I would have done if we lost you…”

You somehow found the strength to embrace her back, at least the best your body would allow. With Michele there you told her;

>That you were sorry for messing up trying to fix things for her
>You were scared to be there alone anymore
>When you get out, you would take care of Charlie properly
>That you were sorry for messing up trying to fix things for her
>When you get out, you would take care of Charlie properly
No matter how hard you tried, your words remained mute. Sometimes a noise manages to scratch out and you would recoil from the pain. Even the air felt raw and jagged with every breath, yet you kept trying to force out something.

“What is it?” Michele pulled back to look at you with mascara stained cheeks, “Please stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

The room spun around you. The few lights around hurt your eyes with their glow and only disoriented you more. Every couple of seconds felt like you were snapping half awake again and again. It almost made you unsure if there was anyone actually in your arms and wasn’t some sort of sick, sad dream.

You had to let her know you were sorry. Each time you slipped away into blackness it felt like, for sure, it would be for the last time. Death was certainly something that would come for you at any time, or at least that’s all you could think about.

“...mi-...mi-...-ch-....-che-...” Despite how hard you tried to shout out her name, Michele was left to read your lips to figure out what you wanted to say.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” she whispered, trying to make you settle back against the bed. Your efforts to speak became more desperate and you began trying to pull out those suffocatingly tight bandages.

With a gentle hushing, Michele pulled your hands away and managed to get you to lay back down against the bed. Already the efforts had you exhausted, your eyes couldn’t stay open no matter how hard you tried.


You were gasping and heaving from the effort. Rather than stop you, Michele leaned down close to you again, her ear hovering by your mouth.

“I’m listening,” she murmured, “What is it, Lawrence?”

Several minutes must have passed by before you managed to rasp out the apology. You were sorry for failing so hard, that you hadn’t been able to achieve the revenge you thought she needed. You were ashamed about being caught off guard and losing. He had been allowed to get the upper hand over you, and you lost bad.

You were sorry for being a failure of a brother. Being unable to protect your sister. Unable to fight the battles she couldn’t, to achieve the revenge she couldn’t on her own.
The effort was all one giant fuck up. You were just one giant fuck up. But you would try again. If you could get better, you would try again and not make the same mistakes. You would do what it would take, and everything would be okay-

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Michele wept, “I wasn’t worth any of this happening to you. It was my mistake- you shouldn’t have to suffer for it. Please give up on it Lawrence. I want you to be a normal kid. Don't sacrifice that for me.”

Again, you started mouthing apologies over and over. You tried to make promises to do things better. She brought a hand up to your mouth to make you stop and shook her head. “I wasn’t worth this,” Michele repeated, “the whole family is hurting because of me. I’m the one who messed up, not you.”

She grew quiet after that, stroking your hair back as you both shared in a near silent grief. You tried to breathe normally again, wincing each time a breath of air stung. Michele remained there, doing what she could to comfort you enough to calm down.

It was impossible for you to tell how long it had been. Minutes or hours, it all felt the same. Eventually her hand came to a stop, cupping your face now. You reached up for it, trying to ignore the sensation of needles in your skin.

“Lawrence,” she whispered against your ear, “I think I have to go away for a while.”

Your head began to shake ‘no’, you didn’t want to be left alone again. Stray tears fell against your shoulder as Michele attempted to wipe them away.

“I messed up so, so bad Lawrence. Mom and Dad aren’t ever going to be able to trust me again. They already had to worry about me messing up more shit, but now that you’re like this because of me…”

Michele’s body shook against you with an escaped sob.

“They need to make sure you’re okay now. I already messed up bad, they don’t need to embarrass them anymore.” Her voice shakes as she said, “I’m leaving tonight. They might freak out at first, but I think Mom and Dad will figure out what a relief it is. Maybe now they’ll stop being in such a bad mood all the time. And
I don't need you to run out and fight for a stupid whore, you're better than that.”

You were doing everything you could to tell her to stay, even trying to grab her arm to keep her there. Of course you were too weak though. It always felt like you were too weak when it truly mattered.

Michele was embracing you close again as your eyes struggled to open. You wanted to beg her to stay, you were trying to find any ounce of strength possibly left in your body.

“Please,” she whispered to you in a desperate voice, “don’t make this too hard for me. It’s scary and I’m going to miss you so, so badly but… maybe one day, I’ll come back. When I’m a better daughter, I can come back and fix everything myself. So please, wait for me, okay?”

>You did everything you could to try and make Michele stay
>It broke your heart, but you didn’t put up a fight when she left
>It broke your heart, but you didn’t put up a fight when she left
>It broke your heart, but you didn’t put up a fight when she left
The thought of Michele leaving was deep and piercing pain. You didn’t want her to go, this wasn’t what you had planned at all.

None of this was right. Failure after failure, and you didn’t even have the strength to fight for her to stay. And how could you? Even if by some miracle you could stand on your own, the IV’s and oxygen tube would keep you there.

No matter how hard you tried, there was no way Michele was going to stay. From the note that had been left for your parents, the guilt from staying would have consumed her. Both of you were certain that the blame was entirely on yourself, and this was Michele’s solution to redeem herself.

If you only had a handful of precious moments left with her, it was better to not turn them sour. If you had the ability to beg her then you would have. All you could do was try to hold her as tight as you could in hopes that maybe, just maybe, you could be strong enough to make her stay.

“They told us that you should be able to recover from this,” she whispered, “and you’ll even be able to go to school again. He won’t be there, I promise. You need to get out of here and do well, okay? Even if your grades suck and you hate going. Things might be easier after you graduate… Besides, one of us has to finish high school. Maybe when I can come back you’ll let me sleep on your couch for a bit, huh?”

She knew you were crying, and so was she. Staying or leaving must have been terrifying options for her, and the choice couldn’t have been easy. You would keep trying to tell her ‘sorry’, or to ask her to stay, but the sound never came.

Maybe, if you could have spoken to her right then, you could have convinced her to stay. But Charlie took any chance of that away from you too.

“Stay out of any more fights. Even when someone makes you so angry like that again, go home. I don’t want you getting hurt any more.”

The strength was fading from you and the room was spinning in a cloudy haze again. Michele held on to you though, helped lay you back down on the bed as she kept whispering. The longer it went on the less you could actually listen to her words. So close to passing out again, and you weren’t sure if she was still holding you or not.

“....-goodbye, Lawrence. I love you, I hope I’m able to see you again.”

You no longer had the power to even think about begging. Everything hurt worse, your body felt so damn heavy. If only you could have stopped her from walking out that door and away from you forever.

“They’re right in here, and I let them know they had a guest.”

The nurse eyes you nervously as she shows you the door to Dad’s room. It had taken her several tries to get your attention when she came to fetch you from the waiting room. And now you have to stop yourself from pacing already, or from fidgeting with your collar. You’re nervous of course, and this damn itch isn’t helping.

She coughs loudly and shakes her head at you. You suddenly realize that you had started to pull out your cigarette box, and you sheepishly shoved it away again.

“You can go to the parking lot if you need to do that,” she whispers before unlocking and giving you entry to the room.

The place would almost look like a bedroom, if not for the hospital bed and machines surrounding it. It at least looks like your parents stay here has been comfortable.

Mom and Dad are already looking over as you walk in. He uses the remote to mute the television in front of him, grunting in his efforts to sit up.

The nurse shuts the door to give you privacy as Mom stands from her chair, “Oh, you really are here. They said someone was here to visit and I was hoping it would be you.”

You embrace her with arms wide open, doing everything you can to keep from shaking.

“It’s good to see you,” Dad says from where he lay. You nod at him, only letting go of Mom after she does.

“What brings you here?” she asks, her slender hands reaching up to touch over your face, “We’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? Did you come here because you need help?

Her eagerness puts a smile on your face, and you shake your head. Today you’ve come to visit your parents because:

>Being around you might put them in danger. You came to say goodbye to Mom and Dad one last time so they can be safe
>You wanted to let them know that there’s always a chance something bad could happen to you. But that you hope that you’ll be able to see them again in the future.
>You came to tell them that you won’t come back to them until you’re a better man, and don’t have to worry about hurting them anymore.
>You wanted to let them know that there’s always a chance something bad could happen to you. But that you hope that you’ll be able to see them again in the future.
>You wanted to let them know that there’s always a chance something bad could happen to you. But that you hope that you’ll be able to see them again in the future.
I apologize for the wait, work has gotten a bit busy and being sick on top of that. I'm going to try to get one more update out before the thread falls off, but I will start a new thread for November

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