[color=f6f0e8][center][right][sub]Timestamp: Current IC Day - Monday 
(Day Dear David letters get sent out)
[@LovelyComplex] & [@BrutalBx][/sub][/right]
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[indent][indent]Freshly moved into her dead love’s bedroom, Penelope had a little under a month to get used to this, living at the Deckers. She saw Rhonda everyday now right before she left (around breakfast time) and when she returned. Poppy spent days just laying in Charlie’s bed imagining all the things he thought about while he was alone in this room. His room. From time to time, she would look out the window towards Allegra and Mordechai’s new room, her old one, and give them a wave like he would with her. This wasn’t so bad. This was a little painful but she was managing. If anything, it made her feel at peace.

Penelope was grateful that the same day Allegra came to town, Rhonda accepted her. Her second mother looked forward to the company. It was a no brainer she would say yes. Poppy did find it a little weird to live in the room that now that she thought about it, she was rarely in. Charlie was always over her place. She didn’t really need to climb his window like he did with her. She did enter his bedroom a few times throughout the year, like when he was sick or when he would randomly text her ‘hey’ but was too bruised to climb her window. One night she came unannounced. That night was one of the worst nights they had because they argued. She didn’t even remember what the argument was about, all she knew was he broke her heart that night. That was neither here nor there and all in the past. The past was just that, the past. 

The feeling of nostalgia washed over her everyday, as if Charlie had only left to do business and would soon return. As if he went on about his day to pick up bagels with cream cheese to enter her bedroom unannounced, but still expected. Poppy could tell Rhonda cleaned in here, dusting his furniture lightly, making his bed, putting his books back after she took them out, right where she got them from; his things unchanged. Although the undertone was subtle, Poppy could feel his mother’s love throughout it all. Rhonda loved her son and Pops could only imagine how badly she missed him, remembering only the best of him. The man that Penelope loved. 

His room was a poetic time capsule. His wall of books and vinyl records showed how absolutely passionate he was of the world around him. From classical literature, like Charles Dickens, Mark Twain, and William Shakespeare, to eclectic music (music was like literature to him) with a heavy lean toward Indie and Classic Rock, like Nada Surf, South to Meatloaf, and The Smiths; All which helped him through the night, keeping all the bad noise out of his head. 

There was his desk, near his window,  which had his computer, TV, and PlayStation on top of it. And now, his manuscript was laying on it, no longer hidden, waiting to be read. She still didn’t have the courage to read it. This was a lot of change for her in a small amount of time. Baby steps. That’s all she could do. Baby steps. Inside his desk were his writing supplies and notebooks he hadn’t touched yet. Under his desk, there was a small fridge and a box with his video games. Not too many games but enough to keep him busy. A lot of his money went to supporting his mother. The books and the records? Charlie was well liked (until that day). Uncle Campbell likely gave him some free records and even gave him discounted ones. The books were a collaborative effort from his mother, her family, her, himself, Beau, and etc. He was well loved, he just stopped seeing it, which sucked. 

On the wall behind his bed frame, he had a small display that surrounded the Gallows poster. Around the poster he placed ripped pages of his favorite books. To the right of the poster, he had a framed picture of his friends, all the Southies she knew he loved. Then there was his door with a painted quote. His favorite quote [b]’There is a tide in the affairs of men…’[/b] from Julius Caesar. Freshman year, she and him painted it. It was one of her fonder memories of him and with him, though they were stupid and ended up getting more paint on each other than the actual door. 

In the background one of his records, [url=https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2q7qjFJKOXs]Paint the Silence[/url] by South, played as she sat on his bed looking at her phone. Recently, Shannon was able to get Penelope to throw away her face masks. A shield for her during social situations. Shannon was reaching breakthroughs with her client and potentially curing her agoraphobia. A long hard battle of trust building and hoping Poppy would receive her. Since the night at the grave, the James girl was nothing but receiving. Listening and trying to change for the better. She needed to live. 

Slowly but surely, Pops began wearing her nicer clothes that she hadn’t worn in years (they still fit her, even if she lost a lot of weight). Unfortunately for Decky, she still hadn’t returned  his hoodie, but she also wasn’t wearing it everyday like she did throughout the past month. There was more color in Poppy’s skin and more emotion, no longer chained by grief. Her grief was still there but she was getting better control over it and how it dictates her life. She was getting there and everyone was noticing. 

It was Monday and she had the day off from the cafe so she decided to take a leap of faith and wear a summer dress. Something she usually only wore to show off to Charlie. Her skin was pale as hell but at least she was exploring outside of jeans, tanks, hoodies, and Charlie’s jacket. She was still going to wear Charlie’s jacket. It was hers now, so that wouldn’t stop anytime soon, if at all. She needed at least one comfort item. Along with that, she wore black converse, put her hair up in a messy ponytail, and applied concealer and mascara. Can you believe it? She put makeup on! Not a lot, but enough to make her look less like a walking corpse and more like a human fucking being. And of course, she couldn’t forget her teardrop necklace that held Maxine’s ashes. Poppy fully loaded. Charlie’s jacket and Maxine’s teardrop were strictly mandatory and became a staple in her look. 

Sitting on her bed, having gotten up earlier than usual, Poppy debated if she should text the crew - Jade, Decky, Allegra, and the kids - to see if they wanted to hang. She could visit her family’s house to tell Decks and Legs but the last time she did so, Decky was an unbecoming sight (he was basically naked). It might be better to text. She hummed to the tone of the song and it was clear as day that Charlie’s room became a safe haven for her. A place of peace. Her castle. She didn’t feel sad, mad, nor did she feel happy. She simply let herself be. Just be. Mrs. Ramsey was proud of her with all the progress she’s made. There was no doubt about that one.

It was nice to have sound in the house again. Rhonda had all but lived in silence for the last two years, save the shouting outside her window on any given day. Having the noise from her son’s record player bouncing off and around the walls of the house warned her heart.

MOTHER MURDER!

WITCH!

BLIND WHORE!

Ronnie had learned to convert the jibes into white noise, the same way she did when she got similar barbs about James. There were times that the words slipped through the gaps and penetrated the bubble she had surrounded herself. When they did that, she often wondered, what had she done to deserve her lot in life? Rhonda was not a suspicious sort. She did not believe in ghost stories or curses. Charlie did. Charlie had an entire theory about why they had the luck they did and it stemmed from Ronnie’s days at Edenridge High, when she was a cheerleader. The Unlucky Clovers curse.

The Deckers were not any kind of Edenridge royalty. They were not foundlings, they were not Serpents or Gorta. They were just a small family from Maine who moved here in the forties after World War II. Charlie did a family tree for them once, turns out she was Dutch, how fun. There was nothing special about them, they were just there. Then when Ronnie joined the Clovers, things began to change. She was already a knockout; tall, long legs, angular features and her eyes, those startling green eyes, the boys (and some girls) found it all too easy to fall in love with her. Yet Ronnie was quiet, bookish and never attended the cool kid parties. 

But then she did.

When Rhonda ventured to a John O’Hara party, she didn’t expect to fall in love but she did. As soon as she walked into the mansion on Scott Street, she saw him. Maybe it was the long hair and the leather jacket? Maybe it was the way he played the guitar like he was fighting for his life? Whatever it was, when Ronnie saw James Strongbow, she was hooked immediately.  Their dalliance was all too brief as James’ Gallows commitments tore him away from Eden all the time. It wasn’t fair for her to be waiting all the time. She understood that and let him go where he needed to. The problem was she would need him more now than ever.

When her parents died, Ronnie was seventeen. She had no other family to speak of and had to take care of herself. She had to drop out of school and get a job at the diner. She was there for years, unable to escape. She was working there the night she heard about the St Paul’s Cathedral fire and she was there when James, now going by Father Winters, walked about into her life. He had lost the long hair but he was still handsome but his face was sad, always sad. But again, they were only together a short time before he put a gun in his mouth. This time he left her, he left her with a gift, the best gift, Charlie Jay.

Charlie wondered if his mother had never been a Clover; then maybe her parents wouldn’t have died on their way to a game. If she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had to take menial work for no money. If she wasn’t a clover, maybe she wouldn’t be going blind. Ronnie always retorted, if she wasn’t a clover, she wouldn’t have had Charlie. No matter what he did, no matter what people thought of her, Rhonda did not regret her life. She did not regret loving James and she did not regret making Charlie. He was her little boy. 

Her hand traced the braille paper with her fingertips. She still had vision, on a good day but she found it easier at this point just to lean into her disability. This letter had arrived a few days prior, she hadn’t the heart to tell Poppy yet but she knew she had to. Ronnie just wanted the girl to be comfortable before Charlie broke her heart again. Pulling herself to her feet, letter in hand, Rhonda made her way towards what was once her son's room, now belonging to his great love. She cracked open the door a touch and knocked twice.

[color=A4C0CF]“Hey baby girl, can I come in?”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“Oh, yes. Of course,”[/color] Penelope pocketed her phone inside Charlie’s jacket before rushing to the door. [color=fe6f5e]“Want to sit on the bed?”[/color] The young woman offered guidance as she propped the door open wider and gently laid her hand on her mother’s arm; Her mother not by blood but through love. [color=fe6f5e]“I hope the music isn’t too loud. It helps start my day right,”[/color] And keeps Charlie’s memory absolutely positive in her mind. 

Living in the Decker household was a little bittersweet because Rhonda was supposed to be her mother-in-law. Rhonda was such a beautiful woman that had so much strength for her circumstances. No matter how hard things got Rhonda fought. She was a fighter. The best kind. Nothing Edenridge threw at her would take her down, and it was admirable to watch and see. Poppy could only imagine how much life hurt her. How many times she thought about giving up. And yet, here she was, allowing Poppy to stay with her and keeping Charlie’s memory alive.

Penelope knew in her heart that one day Charlie would make her his. All the grief and doubt, all the questions of whether or not he loved her or not, none of that matter. She waited for him. Waited for him to say three words. She waited and wouldn’t stop waiting even after death. That’s because she knew he loved her. He was the one for her. Her soulmate. But she knew better, Charlie communicated in prose. Poetry and lines from books. He was a socially awkward kid who put his fist in his mouth - metaphorically speaking - when he tried to express his vulnerability. Thinking back on all their moments, that’s one thing she loved about him. God, she loved him. 

The Charlie she loved always found his way back to her and through action, they held each other close. Through action, they stood at each other’s side. Through action, she was always there. She never left him. She would never leave him. All she ever wanted was to be his constant, the one that grounded him and made him feel happy and safe. In her heart of hearts, she knew that was the love of her life and her future husband. She would’ve married him, if he were still alive. She loved him. After all this time, she still loved him. And that’s never going to change. He was her Forever.

[color=fe6f5e]“Is everything okay?”[/color] Penelope warmly asked, as she looked up at Rhonda with kindness and love.

Ronnie allowed herself to be led by Poppy to what was once her son’s bed. Having the young girl here had added so much life to the house, even if Penelope was still searching for a way to increase her own. Rhonda had spent many hours chatting with Victoria on the subject of the young Penelope James; on how she was a shell of her former self. Maxine’s premature death traumatised her; Charlie’s destroyed her. Yet Ronnie had seen such a change in the girl, she was rebuilding, slowly. She didn’t want to halt that progress but there was something that Poppy needed to know.

[color=A4C0CF]“I’m not sure,”[/color] Rhonda responded as she sat down next to her son’s great love. Today she could see shapes and a little colour. Tomorrow, perhaps there would be more, most likely less. She was having more bad days than good ones recently. She entwined her fingers with Penelope’s and smiled. [color=A4C0CF]“You know it’s funny, when I found out that I was pregnant, after I got over the initial pray to God moment, I thought to myself, I would love to have a little girl.”[/color] Her cloudy green eyes danced around the room in reminiscence. [color=A4C0CF]“I could teach her makeup, how to do her hair, and teach her how to dance. Then nine months later, I get Charlie Jay. You know he’s named after my mother? And instead of learning how to color coordinate, he’s teaching me about Wainright. Now you’re here, the daughter I always wanted.”[/color]

With all her heart, Rhonda adored Poppy, she truly did. Even with her vision, she could see that her son was in absolute love with this girl. It was in his cadence, in the way he morphed into a competent different person when she was in the room, in a good way. It was in the way, late at night, that he would recite texts of love before climbing through her bedroom window. Rhonda always knew. Her face soured somewhat at a memory. Charlie was so much like his father in many ways, not all of them good.

[color=A4C0CF]“Penelope, I’m glad you’re here.”[/color]

Penelope squeezed Rhonda’s hands, if only she had come sooner. There was a sadness in Rhonda that the girl could feel simply by her aura. If Poppy hadn’t fallen apart, she could’ve been here to take care of her. The grief was too heavy at the time and all she could do was focus on herself and her grief. It was a selfish thing but no matter how hard she tried, everything was so fucking painful and all she could do was internalize. She made it this far because she completely shut down and closed off from the world, but like Charlie said, it was time to live.

There was no use in regretting and wishing things went differently. So many things could’ve been done differently, but what was the point of thinking about life like that? Penelope was drowning and finally, she had her head above water. She was here now and that’s what was important. [color=fe6f5e]“I’m glad to be here, mama.”[/color] There were only two people Poppy considered her mother and one of them was in this room with her. [color=fe6f5e]“How are you holding up? I’m sorry I haven’t checked on you sooner. It’s not that I forgot you or anything. I really do love you.”[/color]

[color=A4C0CF]“Baby girl, don’t worry about me,”[/color] Rhonda smiled sweetly at the younger woman. [color=A4C0CF]“I made my peace with the world a long time ago. You on the other hand, you’ve still got some fighting to do.”[/color] She leaned in and kissed the top of Poppy’s head. She really was such a sweet girl and if the world were a different place, Ronnie would be proud to call her daughter. [color=A4C0CF]“I love you too, by the way,”[/color] And she meant those words. She had watched a bright, sparkling young child blossom into a beautiful woman. One of the last clear memories she had was graduation day. Rhonda couldn’t go for obvious reasons but Vicky was kind enough to take pictures and although sad, Poppy looked radiant.

She was dragging it out; she didn’t want to. She was scared. Rhonda Decker didn’t hide from a fight though and if she could teach Penelope anything during their time together, it would be to never stop fighting. [color=A4C0CF]“What did Charlie tell you about his Dad?”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“His part in the Gallows. The fire. His mental health. The aftermath and how it impacted you. Charlie didn’t like talking about his dad much. Occasionally, he’d bring something up but then he would move to the next best thing, quickly. I had to piece it together after some time. I don’t think he really wanted to burden me so… he just didn’t tell me things. To protect me, I guess.”[/color] Briefly, Penelope’s tone saddened as she thought about all the times Charlie failed to express himself to her. For anyone else they wouldn’t last in a friendship like that but for Poppy she couldn’t help but wait for him to open up to her. In his time. Always in his time. She waited for him to see her. Really see her. See that she would always be there. Come rain or come shine, she trusted him and would never leave his side. Though it hurt so bad, it was her and Charlie. Always her and Charlie. [color=fe6f5e]“Sorry I don’t have anything more… some friend I am…”[/color]

[color=A4C0CF]“No!”[/color] Ronnie interrupted. [color=A4C0CF]“No. Don’t ever make yourself feel like you weren’t enough because he didn’t share enough. I love my son but he had his ways which I never agreed with.”[/color] The older woman looked towards the piece of paper in her hand. The time had come to tell Poppy another heartbreaking home truth about her beloved. 

[color=A4C0CF]“When I was with James, he wasn’t himself or at least he wasn’t how I remembered him. After the fire, he just seemed so lost. I knew from the off that whatever we had wasn’t pure, it wasn’t real. It was a symptom of his growing illness.”[/color] Rhonda releases her grip on Poppy’s hand and passes her the note; a letter. It was two pages, one normal and one in braille. [color=A4C0CF]“He liked to disappear for weeks at a time and I didn’t question it. I wanted to let him do what he needed to. All I knew was that he was going back to the reservation where he was born; Blue Hills.”[/color]

The Blue Hill Reservation was a little ways away, around two hours in a car. It was a place nestled in a small valley between Boston and Salem. It was fairly small and definitely struggled financially based on what James used to tell her. She had heard that most people there were good, hardworking people who had fallen on hard times.

[color=A4C0CF]“Does the name Mitena mean anything to you?”[/color]

Deeply staring at the letters, Penelope shook her head, having no clue what Mitena meant. [color=fe6f5e]“No ma’am, I’ve never heard of it,”[/color] That sinking feeling crept in her chest once more. She wasn’t so much different than the woman sitting beside her. Charlie had his secrets. She kept finding more of them over time. Maybe what she had with Charlie wasn’t pure either; it wasn't real. Maybe their love for one another was only something fabricated because of his growing illness. The sadness and doubt flushed over her. She was doing so well too, keeping these feelings at bay. Did Charlie not love her like she loved him? [color=fe6f5e]“What does it mean?”[/color] Her voice broke, as she glanced up from the letters to look at Rhonda. 

[color=A4C0CF]“Mitena is a girl that Charlie and I met during your freshman year at Eden. She came from the Blue Hill Reservation. She was James’s daughter that he fathered during our time together. Poppy, she’s Charlie’s sister.”[/color] 

Ronnie’s mind drifted back to that day. It was a few days removed from the Davies girls death and Charlie was doing a genealogy report. It flagged that his father had signed another birth certificate a few weeks after Charlie himself was born. They chased the lead to a young girl in the Blue Hills who had just lost her Mom. After much cajoling, Charlie and Mitena met in a coffee shop and talked for hours and then went their separate ways. Rhonda didn’t know if her son wanted a relationship with this girl, based on this brand new letter, it was fairly obvious he did.

[color=A4C0CF]“He said he didn’t want to know her so we only ever met her the once or at least, that’s what I thought. That letter in your hand? It says Charlie Jay wrote to her every week, that they exchanged gifts and he sent her money once a month.”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“Oh,”[/color] was Penelope’s initial response. What did Rhonda want her to do with this information? Why would Poppy knowing Charlie had a sister be important, in any way? He had a sister and he didn’t care to tell her. A sister he wrote to frequently and sent her money. Why was it whenever she seemed to rebuild and heal, everything fell apart just as fast? [color=fe6f5e]“I… I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,”[/color] the young girl breathed, looking away from her second mother figure. 

With a lost stare, she searched around the room, searching for answers but only seeing him. Everywhere she saw him. All she saw was as him. Swallowing hard, she sat there, feeling that drowning sensation once more, where no land was in sight. Falling deeper and deeper into her own grief. [color=fe6f5e]“I’m so tired, mama. I can’t handle this tide… it’s like crashing into me again and again and again. I get my head above water, I breathe, and then I’m pulled under again. There’s nothing to grab onto and I’m too deep to stand up… I’m tired of this feeling. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I wished Charlie had killed me.”[/color] She wanted to die. 

[color=A4C0CF]“No!”[/color] The older woman said. The poor girl was hurting as she had every right to. Nobody knew Charlie like Poppy did, not even Rhonda. They were a part of the same person and when he died, a part of her did as well. Her recovery has been slow and it had been difficult and now all that hard work was being undone. [color=A4C0CF]“No! Don’t you dare!”[/color] Ronnie wrapped her arms around the young girl and pulled her into her motherly embrace. [color=A4C0CF]“I can’t pretend to know why he would keep this from you, I don’t know why Charlie did a lot of the things he did but what I do know is that if he could see the pain he was causing you, it would kill him. He loved you and I love you too, you are one of the little joys in my life.”[/color]

She had made peace with a lot of the sadness in her life. What Charlie did, what James did, what happened to her parents and her eyesight, it all just was what it was. Yet there were rare instances, when Rhonda was alone and the world fell silent. She could not hear, she could not see and she could not feel. She imagined that this was something similar to what the young girl in her arms was feeling. [color=A4C0CF]“I had to tell you Pops because the person who is tormenting us, whoever it is that is twisting my little boys words, they’ve threatened her.”[/color] Ronnie’s eyes were welling up, tears began to dance down her face. [color=A4C0CF]“She is innocent in all of this and some monster is saying they want to hurt her because of what Charlie did. The police won’t do anything and I refuse to let what my baby boy did cause any more harm to people who don’t deserve it.”[/color]

From tormented soul to Street Angel, Penelope narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her position to wipe Rhonda’s tears with Charlie’s jacket sleeve, [color=fe6f5e]“Are you serious?”[/color] From sadness to anger, Penelope pushed her grief to the side to take in all the pain and emotion of Rhonda and let it build up inside her. [color=fe6f5e]“Is that why you told me? You need me to get a crew and fetch her? What a sicko. When I find out whoever is toying with my family, I’m going to kill them.”[/color] Poppy didn’t say that last part lightly. As much as she wanted to sulk in her pain, that would not accomplish anything nor would it give her closure. Charlie was dead and he did what he did. She couldn’t change the past. But for someone to bring in his sister who has absolutely nothing to do with this cursed town? That was next level despicable. [color=fe6f5e]“I’m sorry mama, I got in my feelings but you brought me back. I’ll take care of it and I’ll take care of you.”[/color]

Rhonda wiped the tears away from her all too clouded eyes, using the warmth from Poppy’s body in her arms to guide her emotions back to a level plateau. [color=A4C0CF]“I don’t know if we can bring her here, she has nothing to do with us and she has a life of her own.”[/color] All this was still a lot for Ronnie to process. She held no personal responsibility to this mystery child but she held one to Charlie and one to Poppy and she knew that neither would let something like this lie. [color=A4C0CF]“But maybe take your friends just to check in on her? Warn her maybe? I don’t know. I’m not even sure really why I care so much. Maybe it’s because he would care.”[/color] 

The elder woman could feel herself getting a little light headed, a common occurrence for her and it was becoming harder to think clearly. [color=A4C0CF]“You don’t have to do anything, Penelope. It’s likely just idle threats and I shouldn’t burden you with this. I wouldn’t even know where to start. I only know the girl's name.”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“The girl's name and the reservation she stays at. That’s more than enough information for me. I’m going to do it because it’s the right thing to do,”[/color] Penelope passionately decreed before assisting Rhonda up from the bed. [color=fe6f5e]“Here, let me help you. We’ve had a long morning and you need rest. I’ll take care of things. Promise.”[/color] Penelope had already decided. There was no convincing her any other way. Stubborn as a mule Charlie would say. She would find Mitena and try her best to protect her in any way she could. Definitely bringing her father’s gun with her. For Rhonda, for Charlie, and for herself.  [color=fe6f5e]“I won’t let you down, mama.”[/color]

Perhaps along the way she’d find out more about Charlie. As scary and painful it was to find out new information about the love of her life, Poppy craved for more. She wanted to know everything about Charlie, including all the things he never told her. This journey would be a stepping stone in the right direction of reaching inner peace and simmering down the constant raging war inside her.

[color=A4C0CF]“Thank you, Poppy. You have no idea how much this means,”[/color] Rhonda followed the young girl's lead as she walked her towards her own bedroom for some rest. She hated this part of it; the exhaustion. Ronnie was a healthy and fit forty three year old woman that some younger would consider a hot mom, yet she could barely walk around her house without help. It was embarrassing.

Taking a seat on her own bed, she held onto Poppy’s hand. [color=A4C0CF]“Baby girl, the other day your Mom and I were in town, I was having a good sight day and we saw that girl, Natalia Belmonte from your class? She looked so lonely. So broken. Maybe ask her to go with you? I know she was friends with Charlie, what if she could help?”[/color]

Natalia Belmonte, the Queen Bee of her year, was [i]friends[/i] with Charlie? Was Rhonda mistaken? This didn’t sound right at all. Still, even if it felt extremely far-fetched, this was something Charlie’s mom wanted her to do. There were so many questions flooding her brain but instead of protesting or asking the older woman why, she simply said, [color=fe6f5e]“Of course. I’ll make sure to see her first before grabbing the others.”[/color] With a frustrated sigh, Penelope helped Rhonda lay down before kissing her forehead, [color=fe6f5e]“I’ll make sure she’s okay. I’ll make sure they’re all okay.”[/color] This was the least she could do. Rhonda was allowing her to stay at her house and if she thought Natalia could be of use and Mitena needed saving then it was a no brainer that Poppy would do this. On top of her love for Rhonda, the dark haired beauty needed answers and it felt like she would find out some of them soon.

Cheers to finding Mitena Strongbow. 

[color=fe6f5e][i]Charlie, what are you doing to me?[/i][/color][/indent][/indent][/color]