MushedWxrries
Never in sync to the beat or his body; a canvas for band-aids, Benedict Crowfield is in therapy - in a desperate attempt to cure his depression. Drained money, erased anatomy. Deemed selfish - the youngest brother works shifts to fill up a transparent jar, placed upon his desk. Three jobs a week within the hospital in Forks, Benedict allows no breaks, no slacks - only one hundred per cent effort.
Count weeks frustrated the teenager. No matter the hours. No matter the effort. There'd be no higher than one hundred dollars. Lower, lower, and lower. An impressive magic trick - the money would vanish by the next count week came around.
Undeniably anxious, he took his concerns and bottled them into a jar - until his shift at the hospital - the money jar placed upon the cleaning trolly. Dr Cullen noted down every time he saw the boy carry a meltdown. There had to be something done.
[Twilight - N/A]
[Twilight saga]
[07/12/2018 - N/A]
© MushedWxrries