♛ william ll @remnantcorpse
There were plenty of things that Mike didn’t want to think of. One of things being the subject of death itself - or rather, those he’s lost to it. Maybe that was why he was so against going out to the festival to do something and celebrate it himself - it was just something he didn’t want to think about.
Yet, on the third day, Mike sits on a bench. His hands cradling his lantern, he stares down at it. He knows exactly who it’s for - for everyone he’s lost in his past. His mother, his sister, brother...
... Everyone, except for his father. But the more he thought about it, he might as well include him. The man he knew growing up- although to nobody’s surprised...well, fucked, he doesn’t compare to what he knows of him now. The memory of the man who could, at the very least, be nothing but a good father to him was dead and gone - just like the rest of his family. Mike taps his fingers against the sides of his lantern, closing his eyes as he takes in a deep breath.
He doesn’t want to be here, he tells himself. I could’ve just stayed inside, and ignored this completely. I didn’t need to do this to myself, he tells himself - yet...
Here he is, and for the first time in a long time, Mike allows himself to think of his mother. His sister, his brother, and his throat tightens up. For the first time in a long, long, long time, Mike thinks about his family and everyone he’s lost.
and he doesn’t know if he can keep it together.
