Oakley sat in his small apartment, staring at the blank page in front of him. He had been trying to write a new comic book story, but his mind was clouded with guilt and regret. He couldn't help but think about the consequences of his past actions.
It had been five years since the incident with Billy, and Oakley had done his best to move on with his life. He had finished high school, gone to college, and even started his own comic book series, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being punished for what he had done.
He had lost his family, his friends, and even his own sanity. He couldn't escape the memories of that fateful day when everything had gone wrong. He had been so blinded by his anger and desire for revenge that he had made a terrible mistake.
Now he was paying the price. He had been in and out of therapy, struggling to come to terms with his actions and find a way to forgive himself. He had lost touch with Mia and Mrs. Cooper, the only people who had shown him any kindness after the incident.
As he sat there, lost in thought, his phone rang. He hesitated for a moment before answering, but something in his gut told him it was important.
"Hello?" he answered, his voice trembling.
"Oakley, it's Mia," came the voice on the other end of the line.
"Mia? How are you?" he asked, surprised to hear from her after all these years.
"I'm doing okay. Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. Do you remember the sketchbook you used to carry around all the time?" she asked.
Oakley felt a pang of guilt in his chest. That sketchbook was the one Billy had destroyed, the one that had started everything.
"Yes, I remember it," he said quietly.
"Well, I found it the other day while cleaning out my old room. I looked through it, and I realized something. You were always so talented, Oakley. Your drawings were amazing, but more than that, they were full of hope and imagination. They were a reflection of who you truly are, not the person you became that day," Mia said.
Oakley listened, his heart pounding in his chest.
"I know you've been struggling, Oakley. I know it's been hard to forgive yourself, but you have to remember that you're more than your mistakes. You're a talented artist, a kind person, and a survivor. You have to find a way to let go of the guilt and move forward," Mia said.
Oakley felt tears streaming down his face. He had never realized how much he had needed to hear those words.
"Thank you, Mia. I don't know what to say," he choked out.
"Just promise me one thing. Promise me that you'll keep drawing, no matter what. Promise me you'll never give up on your dreams," Mia said.
"I promise," Oakley said, feeling a sense of hope for the first time in years.
As he hung up the phone, Oakley knew that he had a long road ahead of him. He would never forget what had happened, but he could learn from it and use it to make a positive impact on the world. He picked up his sketchbook, feeling a sense of purpose and determination for the first time in years. He knew that his past mistakes would always be a part of him, but he was ready to face the consequences and use his talents for good. Then he remembered. Mia is dead.
