Hollow Grace

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ - sᴄᴀɴᴅᴀʟ ɪssᴜᴇs

Warning! This text contains detailed mentions of sexualized violence. Read with caution.

November 15th

Two weeks spent in the hospital, under constant medical observation, had brought many changes to Charlie's and Evan's lives. Child protective services had placed the boys with their new foster families, while the process of terminating the Wrights' parental rights was already underway. The search for Gloria Holden and William Holden continued. Even though the boys' involvement in all this was minimal, it didn't make it any less stressful.

The town was abuzz, overflowing with all sorts of absurd rumors. Having found new entertainment, the residents of Ember Hill eagerly spun the most improbable theories about what truly happened, naturally attributing things to the story's protagonists that were entirely fictitious.

Evan had held up well during this time. The doctor had forbidden him from looking at screens, which was quite fortuitous. Charlie had been the one sifting through all the news feeds while Evan slept. He never crossed the line to read Evan's chats. Once a day, he'd check Evan's social media for nasty comments or mocking messages, deleting them immediately without reading. His beloved shouldn't have to face that garbage.

For the first time in his life, Charlie was glad he'd been stuck in the hospital for so long. Its walls had, in some way, shielded him and Evan from the chaos. And yet, the calm was drawing to a close. Their hospital stay was ending. Dr. Andrews deemed that the dangerous period for his patients had passed, and they could safely continue their treatment at home.

"I don't wanna go back to school," Charlie muttered, looking at the packed bags in the corner.

"We're not going back yet," Evan shrugged. "We'll be home for a bit. At least get a little more quiet time."

"Wish they'd just expel me... No homework, pure bliss. On the other hand... I might die of boredom."

"Oh no, no talk of dying."

Two weeks without violence had been tough. Charlie slept poorly, constantly expecting his father or Evan's stepmother to burst into their room. His body was tense, anticipating a threat from anyone who approached them. His body was always ready for an attack, even when so weakened. But there was no reason to attack, and this, surprisingly, only heightened his fear.

His usual coping mechanisms for stress and pain were unavailable. Wright was slowly starting to unravel in these sheltered conditions, where he was supposedly healing.

"Yeah, I know, damn it, don't even start..." Charlie scoffed, turning to the window. This feeling was eating away at him bit by bit, and it was infuriating. He felt an urge to snap, to lean on something familiar.

"I just want you to think about the good stuff. We've got enough bad, right?"

"Yeah..."

"What's bothering you? I can feel something's off."

"Look... I'm just not used to all this, okay? To people treating me like a freaking crystal vase. I'm not made of sugar, man..."

At first, it had surprised him. When his familiar worldview fractured, Charlie once again felt an incredible longing for a life he'd never had. Understanding parents who saw their child as an equal, unconditional love for simply existing, support during tough times. The new beginning felt sweet for the first few days. But then, fragments of the past began to pierce him from behind. The example of a wonderful family before his eyes shattered him, but couldn't completely cleanse him.

Charlie didn't know what to do next. The certainty that he would change for the better was melting away. This new world seemed so alien...

"I don't know how to deal with it. I should be grateful for everything the Kennedys have done for me, and I am. But gratitude alone isn't enough..."