A smile used to be the most typical thing on Charlie’s mouth but her ability changed that long ago. Still, she’s worked hard for her happiness now. She’ll never forget the first time she touched another human being again, and they didn’t cry out in pain. Seamus had been the brave guinea pig, not a sign of doubt writing lines on his brow and his spine holding all the fluidity that fear would solidify. He held his hand out every day to her at the end of their sessions to shake. Usually, she never wrapped fingers around his palm. But on the day she did, she cried fat tears of joy, beyond grateful he wasn’t gasping in pain.
The Hall family had been a close-knit bunch, doing almost every activity together. Michael enjoyed sports as much as his baby sisters and many hours had been spent cheering each other on at baseball and softball games. Shane had been a more reserved child, but the family unit attended every show to see the sets he had built with just as much pride. But Charlie looks back with the largest smile over Sunday Mass. Her and her brothers hated it. But none more so than her mother, who spent her time of worship scolding Charlie as she whispered irreverent jokes in her brothers’ ears while her father fought of the bored heaviness of his eyelids.