[color=9f9f9f][right][sub][b]TIMESTAMP: Flashback, Sophomore Year
FT.[/b] [color=FE6F5E][b]Penelope James[/b][/color], [color=D3D3D3][b]Charlie Decker[/b][/color] & [color=A4C0CF][b]Rhonda Decker[/b][/color][/sub][/right]
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[indent][indent]The time was 1 AM. Penelope laid alone staring up at her ceiling, listening to the soothing rain and watching the shadow of her hand gingerly sway around, sheltered by the moonlight cast. Her mind drifted in and out, thinking of a time when life was simpler. High school changed everything for her and her friends. Or to be more exact, the party that Allison died at changed everything. 

They were still tight as thieves, maybe not through their openness with being vulnerable to one another, but if something happened, they’d all drop everything for each other, without hesitation. She hoped that part would never change. What she could feel was the growing distance. There was always the ashes in her necklace that were once her sister as an option to rant to but she was still trying to accept the fact that Maxine James was dead. And now? All her friends were moving on, growing up. 

Penelope could feel them drifting further and further away toward their own island while they left her behind in the land of make-believe. Their land where they were happy, young, and dumb. When they were children. Mordechai was falling deeper into the serpent world, Jade was finding her stride at school, making an assortment of friends, which meant both had little to no time for her, and Charlie… he was constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place, forcing himself to be alone in his head, living silently inside.  

She could feel it all and was constantly left in a state of bewilderment. Her dad would never let her be out too late past curfew unless it was a party and he knew what time she’d be home. The only place she was permitted to go at any time was Rhonda’s. Her mom texted her often and drove her to and from everywhere, out of fear she’d end the same way her sister did. Through suicide. At least that’s what the death record says. Somehow, all those she trusted with her whole heart believed she couldn’t take care of herself beyond these walls she called home. Most nights she hated this feeling. The feeling of being a placeholder in everyone’s lives. Someone just there and in the way. She hated not belonging. She hated feeling useless.

Turning her body around, Poppy reached for her phone and opened her text thread with Charlie. He still hadn’t told her he was home. That’s part of the reason why she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. She was waiting for him to know that he was safe. She did this often and most of the time, he’d either come over or text her he was home. They’d talk for a little and then they’d say their goodnights. They had a routine. She was getting anxious because it was getting later than usual. That and he hadn’t texted her much all day. He at least checked up on her once. Not today. She was nervous. This reminded her of all the times she and her sister were worried that instead of Sly coming home it would be one of his brothers-in-arms bearing bad news. [i]Your father didn’t make it out alive tonight.[/i] While she still had this concern, her energy was becoming more and more focused on Charlie, who she knew needed a win, lest he give up, being swallowed by excessive grief, falling apart from the inside out. 

With a sudden sound coming from the room parallel to hers, in the house over, Penelope finally got the signal she needed to let relief wash over her. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=duBCwvC1kP4]Let Down[/url] by Radiohead was playing from Charlie’s record player. Getting up with her phone, she went to the window to look out for him. The curtains were closed which caused her to frown. Glancing from his window to her phone, she texted: [i][color=fe6f5e]Hi, Choo Choo Charlie! You okay? I missed you![/color] [/i]

Charlie faceplanted onto his bed, his long arms hanging over each side. It has been a day. Between the usual rantings of the teachers telling him that his grades were slipping and his fellow classmates making their usual snide remarks about him being a murderer, he found time to almost spend with his friends, almost. 

When school let out Charlie was straight on the corner, slinging ReyRey’s latest batch of Blue Hill products. It all started fine, hell Charlie even managed to square himself a blunt when Natalia Belmonte swung by Haze street for a puff. She was becoming much more of a recurring customer than he expected and more than that she was starting to become a friend. Charlie had hoped to finish early so he could make up some lost time with Poppy but the Kingsnake had a request of the Carlisle Street boy and it involved sending him to unfamiliar territory.

Borrowing a push bike, Charlie rode out to the infamous Rose Motel for a deal. He had grown up on stories of monsters and magic emanating from its decrepit domain. This wasn’t a typical deal for Charlie Jay. He was the premier weed seller in Eden but this time, ReyRey had him selling heroin, the first time he had ever done so. Needless to say, the deal went massively south and the young boy narrowly avoided getting his head blown off by a crackhead with a gun. Still, he got away with the money which made R2 happy. After taking his cut, Charlie crept into his home and placed it in his mother’s money jar, a routine he always did and went straight to his room.

He reached out to his phone which he had dropped on the floor when he hit the mattress and read the message from Poppy. Shitsticks! He had forgotten to message her. God he really hated this job but it was helping out his Mom, that’s all he really wanted to do. Flipping over to his back, Charlie quickly typed a response: [i][color=D3D3D3]Hey! Sorry work was crazy. Missed you too![/color][/i]

There was no response from Penelope. Not immediately. After a few minutes of silence, one who didn’t know her well would assume she had fallen asleep. Charlie knew her like the back of his hand. With his music covering up the sound, there was a faint noise of his front door being opened and closed, a little rustle downstairs, and small steps making their way to his bedroom. From outside, Penelope stood by his door, her hair damp from the rain but her pajamas dry, thanks to her raincoat. She had hung up her coat and taken off her shoes before making her way to Charlie’s room. She was now just wearing her black shorts, a big murder apparel shirt that said [i]True Crime and Chill[/i], and her father’s Edenridge police academy hoodie. Over her shoulder, her backpack hung.

[i]Knock, knock.[/i]

This was her warning that she was coming in. Quietly, she cracked open the door and loudly whispered, [color=fe6f5e]“Are you decent?”[/color]

[color=A4C0CF]“He just got home, he's decent sweetie!”[/color] Rhonda had listened to this game being played by her baby boy and the neighbor girl for so many years now. She knew that Penelope was coming through her front door even before the young James for herself did. Ronnie was comfortable with it. She spent so much time living in darkness now but rather than dwell on that fact she came to appreciate all the things that she could hear, that she could smell and taste. None of which were limited to physical sensation. Rhonda knew that love was no longer on the cards for her, who could love a blind single mom with a son who sold drugs to keep the lights on? None of that mattered because it didn’t take clear eyes to see that Charlie and Pops were soulmates and Ronnie was going to encourage that love wholeheartedly. [color=A4C0CF]“When you go home in the morning, tell your Dad thanks for the old vinyls he got from Mr Ramsey! Night kids!”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“Night mama, I will,”[/color] Poppy watched Ronnie disappear into her bedroom with a warm smile on her face. Even with all her struggles, Ronnie was a rock on this street, in this town, and for her family. Poppy’s mom came by to check on her often but really, Pops knew that her mother needed Ronnie more than Ronnie needed her. For someone who experienced many hardships, from her boyfriend committing suicide to going blind, Rhonda Decker never succumbed to her inner demons. She continued to lift spirits up and give people the support they needed. The woman that raised her Charlie was a testimony of survival and perseverance and Penelope adored her. Penelope aspired to be just like her one day. A lover, a fighter, and a badass machine. Without a doubt, Penelope considered Rhonda as one of her role models. Her other ones would be her father and Mr. Beau. All who were pillars in the Edenridge community. 

[color=D3D3D3]“Night Mom!”[/color] Charlie called back. Springing to his feet and in a single movement, he had made his way to the door. [color=D3D3D3]“Hi,”[/color] He helped open the door and stood to the side to let the young girl into the room before closing the door behind her. He didn’t need his Mom to hear his records playing, she needed her rest. Charlie peeled off his Serpent jacket and hung it off the back of the bedroom door before kicking off his Doc Martens. [color=D3D3D3]“How was your day?”[/color] He asked as he made his way back into the bed. 

Penelope shrugged as she shuffled to Charlie’s desk, placing her bag on top of his chair and took out her large binder, [color=fe6f5e]“Uneventful,”[/color] she muttered. Opening up the binder, shuffling through it to get to her history notes, she continued, [color=fe6f5e]“Got to hang out with Danny at the library for a little and treated him to some ice cream. Other than that? Same-o. Same-o.”[/color] Placing the opened binder on his desk to her extensive notes, color coded, with key words bolded, she pulled her backpack off his seat and crossed her arms, [color=fe6f5e]“We’re probs going to have a pop quiz tomorrow in Mr. Hargreaves class. Were you able to do any homework? You can copy my maths. Though no promises that I got the answers right. Math is not my forte.”[/color]

[color=D3D3D3]“I…..yeah I haven’t even started it,”[/color] Charlie lamented. His role as a Serpent had pretty much eaten up his free time. Where a normal fifteen year old would be hanging out with his friends or studying, Charlie Jay was running from the cops and clients, selling ReyRey’s gear and trying to make sure that he and his Mom had a roof over their heads for another month. Charlie reached under the bed and pulled out a box of books. He began to rifle through looking any with a blank page which was insanely difficult considering the young indigenous boy’s penchant for journaling every thought. Finally finding one, Charlie sat up on the bed and took a pen from the bedside table, yawning wildly as he did. He hadn’t slept properly in days. [color=D3D3D3]“So, what are we learning about again?”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“We’re still in the early 1600s, our most recent chapter was about the peace treaty between the Wampanoag Indians and the Pilgrims, and just the overall establishment of the Plymouth colony…”[/color] Penelope’s voice trailed off as she carefully watched Charlie. He looked awfully tired, exhaustion emitting from his very being. This was becoming more of a common occurrence than she would like to admit. Ever since Allison died, sleepless nights were almost a habit for her friend.  

[color=D3D3D3]“Aah the Wampanoag! My people!”[/color] The Wampanoag were the original settlers in the place that stood before Edenridge. Many of them had died out and it was very much a lesser known tribe in modern times. The only real Wampanoag that Charlie knew personally was his half sister and that girl Topanga and her family who lived in Eastbrook. [color=D3D3D3]“You damn whities!”[/color] he shook his fist in false anger.

Smiling at his joke, but still concerned at the little details she could see, like the bags under his eyes, Penelope made her way to his bed. Sitting beside him, seeing right through his humor, Penelope frowned and gently traced the back of her finger against his cheek, [color=fe6f5e]“You haven’t been sleeping lately. I can see it. I can feel it.”[/color] Her frown turned into a deep pout, clearly concerned for his well-being, [color=fe6f5e]“We can do homework in the morning before school, but maybe you should get some rest?”[/color] She removed her hand from his face, interlocked her fingers together, and laid them on her lap. She loved this boy and it hurt seeing him kill himself to take care of his family. 

Once upon a time, Charlie would do honest jobs for people on the southside, like mowing her father’s lawn, but that didn’t pay nearly enough and he refused to take handouts. He drowned himself in serpent activity because that to him was the best solution. It pained her to see him unwilling to ask for help. All she could do was give him support and be a constant in his life, no matter the weather. Come rain, come shine, Penelope would support him and his choices. She’d hate herself if she ever made him feel alone and worse than he already felt. She’d hate herself if she couldn’t provide the one thing she knew she could give and that was her love. She’d hate herself if she was the reason he didn’t want to see tomorrow. She’d hate herself…

Regardless how messy things got for them, she knew she’d always be here. She always knew she’d be by his side. Whatever he wanted, she’d do. Whoever he needed, she’d be. That’s how much Charlie meant to her. That’s how much she loved him. And as much as she refused to believe it, she knew that’s how much he could hurt her. A life without Charlie was unbearable. 

[color=D3D3D3]“I’m ok, Pops,”[/color] Charlie softly smiled at the green eyed girl. He could feel the tiredness weighing his face down but he had to keep going. The money he was getting from these all-nighters was doing wonders for him and his Mom. She’d had her medication every week for the last three months because of Charlie putting in the grind and graft for the Serpents. He couldn’t stop now. [color=D3D3D3]“You worry too much about me, you know? You can’t kill Charlie Decker!”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“But Charlie can kill himself,”[/color] Poppy curtly countered. Absentmindly, she tightened her grip on her clasped hands and her right leg subtly started to bounce. Catching herself, she quickly stood up and turned to him, [color=fe6f5e]“Lets lay down for a little bit, please? I’ll set the alarm and everything. Even if you can’t rest your mind, can you at least rest your body? For me?”[/color] While she waited for his response, she took off her hoodie to reveal her black true crime shirt and tossed it on her backpack on the floor. [color=fe6f5e]“I can wait if you want to write your journal entry, but after I just want it to be you relaxing on this bed here,”[/color] she added. 

Her green eyes that spoke to the soul of nature matched the soft dewy mist of the night’s storm, displaying all that was being contained on the inside. Her underlying sadness. Her clear awareness of all those things he didn’t want to say out loud. Penelope while sheltered watched and listened, she felt deeply. She was highly attuned to the feelings and emotions of those around her, and her mother was worried that because of this part of her, she would have a difficult time setting boundaries. When push came to shove, those who loved her, or said they did, would end up taking her for granted, walking all over her. Her mother was probably right but that wouldn’t change how Poppy went about life. She cared. What was wrong with that? 

He hated when she did this. Charlie, for all his flaws, was unable to say no to Penelope James. [color=D3D3D3]“Ok ok, we’ll take a power nap.”[/color] Even when she was telling him off, which she did often, Poppy was still trying to be nice and caring and so deeply loving. She knew that he needed to write in his journal. It was more than a routine for Charlie, he needed to write. For him, getting the words out and onto paper meant that the fire in his brain that he could never put out wouldn’t burn him alive. It was always going, constantly moving, forever running wild like a bison stampede. It just never stopped. The journaling was a railroad crossing like the one dividing the North and South of Edenridge, it was a pause for his madness.

Getting off the bed, Charlie made his way over to his desk and opened up his current journal. It was already halfway full and he only started it a month ago. He took out the pen that Poppy had gotten him for his last birthday and pressed it down onto the yellow page:

[indent][indent][i][color=D3D3D3]Douglas Adams once wrote: 'He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream, and he sometimes wondered whose it was, and whether they were enjoying it.' There are days that seem so crazy, so mad that I ponder if someone is dreaming my life, why won’t they wake up? Because I’m exhausted of being me.[/color][/i][/indent][/indent]
Once he was finished, Charlie took off his mustard coloured flannel and climbed onto the bed next to Poppy. He lay down next to her, reaching out and lifting the arm off the record player so that it stopped playing. [color=D3D3D3]“What dreams may come.”[/color]

Instead of responding immediately, Penelope laid on her side, holding her teardrop necklace in her hand and against her chest. The feeling of melancholy washed over her as if she was feeding off of Charlie’s energy like a parasite. She really did worry too much. It was hard to not love someone like Charlie. It was hard not to worry. 

The idea of death being like sleep and our dreams becoming our heaven or hell, or whatever we imagine it to be… where there is no time, no fear of death, only a dream. It makes the afterlife seem more like a wish than anything. Something we make again and again and again, into eternity. If their life was a dream, why did the dream consist of so much pain? Why did she feel everything, everywhere all at once? Why? That was the whole problem, wasn’t it though? 

Dreams weren’t about her or him alone. Dreams weren’t about their families or this little town they called home. Dreams weren’t innately selfish. They become it because that’s what it means to be alive. Everyone who’s ever been and ever will be, they were all part of the same cosmos of infinite dreams. Really, she’s not one to remember her dreams but she is one to remember how they made her feel. If life is a sleep, then love is its dream. Love is hard to forget. 

Was she afraid to die? She didn’t know. What she did know was if the whole world disappeared and it was only her, only Charlie, where neither were reminded of all things that were broken, that’s all she would need. That would make her life a perfect dream. 

[color=fe6f5e]“Charlie?”[/color] Penelope whispered, staring at him with eyes wide open. 

Turning onto his side, Charlie looked down into Poppy’s eyes, lost as always in their beauty. He dwarfed her by far. At this stage he barely fit into his own bed. At six foot three he was the tallest boy in class and Penelope was one of the shortest. To see them together was like watching a cartoon and even now, in their own private world, if Ronnie walked in with her curled up so cute and him hanging out of the bed, she would laugh. Thank God she was going blind. [color=D3D3D3]“Poppy?”[/color]

[color=fe6f5e]“I’m not too much am I? Sometimes I wonder if things would be better if I went instead of Max. You’re always busy, Decky and Jade too…”[/color] Penelope looked away from her friend, curling her body even more. [color=fe6f5e]“I feel like a waste of space most nights.”[/color] This would never be a dream. This was her reality. Penelope James hated herself. 

[color=D3D3D3]“Poppy no,”[/color] This was breaking his heart. He hated the fact that she felt this way about herself but he knew, just like he always did, how she felt. Penelope had lost so much when Max died and the sad reality of their situation was beating her down. They were Southies. The world didn’t care about them. In high school, they were changing, evolving into who they were going to be as adults. The four of them had been friends essentially since diapers but the hallow halls of Edenridge high had opened them up to new worlds and through every door they took, the rope connecting them got a little longer. [color=D3D3D3]“Decky and I have work and Jade is Jade, you know? She’s mad. We all love you and cherish you as you are, you’re our angel.”[/color] Charlie cupped her small face in his hand. [color=D3D3D3]“Without you, we’d fall apart in every sense of the word. I definitely would. I’m barely hanging on as is and you keep me going. To dream, it’s an awfully big adventure and I can only go on that adventure with you Penelope James.”[/color]

The water had built in her eyes the more he comforted her. When he cupped her face, tears were trailing down her cheeks. Learning to live with this massive hole in her chest wasn’t easy but she was trying. Each and every day she was trying. She thought tonight would be a good night. One where she didn’t get sad. One where she didn’t fall apart. One where she wasn’t a burden. It wasn’t. It never was. 

Here alone with Charlie, the immense feeling of grief overwhelmed her and she couldn’t lie to him or pretend to be okay. She was never good at keeping secrets from him and pretending was more exhausting than not. Poppy wanted him to know that he was her reason just as much as she was his. She wanted him to know that if she lost him, she wouldn’t be able to push forward like she has to with Max. She wanted him to know that in her dreams she saw him. He was her wish. She wanted him to know many things but some things were better left unsaid. [color=fe6f5e]“Swear to me,”[/color] she gently placed her hands on his chest, inching closer and looking deeply into his crystal-thimble brown eyes, [color=fe6f5e]“Swear to me, where you go, I go. No matter what. You’ll take me with you.”[/color] 

[color=D3D3D3]”I swear,”[/color] Charlie pressed his head against hers, the rain now the only soundtrack to their world. [color=D3D3D3]”But if the worst happens and I go before you, remember me as a time of day.”[/color]

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