Member
Ohm
Mao Mao
SlashInfinite
souleaterfan320
tadcfnaf
StarfrostedFox
Guardian Angel Haruki
Kaithe Dame
Location: Master Bedroom, Holloway Residence
Timeframe Early Morning
Interaction(s): None
Previously: N/A
Blake Holloway laid on his bed, counting each individual groove on the bedroom ceiling in silence.
Since his wife had passed just prior to the apocalypse to cancer, moments like these had become part of his morning ritual. It was as if he had been frozen in a catatonic state, unable to move from where he laid. On most days, at least prior to the apocalypse, the alarm clock would endlessly buzz until the older two of his daughter came by to wake up their father and get him out of bed. What was once a proud, confident man was now broken and in shambles, marching only forward each day for his daughters—and even that was often a challenge for him.
A knock on the bedroom door. Blake tilted his head towards the noise, before eventually sitting upwards in the bed as his eldest entered the room to wake her father.
"It's time to get up."
Blake didn't offer a response, instead climbing out of bed without a word. He shuffled towards the bathroom, while his daughter went back downstairs, presumably to watch over her younger sister.
Shutting the door behind him, Blake readied himself a shower. He deliberately set the temperature on cold, letting the freezing water rush over his hair. It made him feel alive. That he wasn't just a hollow, discarded husk of a man. But most of all, it awoke something deep within him—an emotion he hadn't regularly felt in years.
For the first time since the birth of his youngest, he cried.
Since his wife had passed just prior to the apocalypse to cancer, moments like these had become part of his morning ritual. It was as if he had been frozen in a catatonic state, unable to move from where he laid. On most days, at least prior to the apocalypse, the alarm clock would endlessly buzz until the older two of his daughter came by to wake up their father and get him out of bed. What was once a proud, confident man was now broken and in shambles, marching only forward each day for his daughters—and even that was often a challenge for him.
A knock on the bedroom door. Blake tilted his head towards the noise, before eventually sitting upwards in the bed as his eldest entered the room to wake her father.
"It's time to get up."
Blake didn't offer a response, instead climbing out of bed without a word. He shuffled towards the bathroom, while his daughter went back downstairs, presumably to watch over her younger sister.
Shutting the door behind him, Blake readied himself a shower. He deliberately set the temperature on cold, letting the freezing water rush over his hair. It made him feel alive. That he wasn't just a hollow, discarded husk of a man. But most of all, it awoke something deep within him—an emotion he hadn't regularly felt in years.
For the first time since the birth of his youngest, he cried.
Location: Kitchen, Holloway Residence
Timeframe Early Morning
Interaction(s): None
Previously: N/A
"It's time to get up."
Holly sighed as her father stumbled out of bed. She wasn't a stranger to his pain; just as he lost a wife, she and her sister both lost their mother. Deep down, though, Holly knew that their family couldn't keep going on like this, least they lose their father, too. She couldn't keep being the responsible parent of the house, especially now in a time like this. It hadn't been her father comforting her younger sister when the town seemed to explode last night, nor was it him ensuring that the three of them still had food to eat. No, it had all been Holly—a simple high school girl woefully unprepared to fill shoes too big for her.
The stress was getting to Holly, and it was certainly only going to get worse. There wasn't much more she could take.
Heading down the stairs to the kitchen, Holly took a seat at the dining table next to her sister, Morgan. She smiled, trying to think of something to talk about that didn't relate to their current situation. As much as Morgan needed to know for her own safety, Holly dreaded telling her that the world was no more. That there were man-hungry zombies roaming everywhere in their hometown and beyond, eager to eat them alive.
They were things you just couldn't tell a five year old kid, Holly felt. It was better to shelter Morgan as best as she could from the outside world, not scare her to death with reality. She hardly understood why their mother was gone, what hope did Holly have to tell her the truth here?
"Mr. Fluffykins says thank you," Morgan broke the silence, pretending that her stuffed cat was eating a plate of instant mix pancakes. "Ohm-nom-nom-nom!" She continued, making fake "cat-eating-a-pancake" noises.
"Well, Mr. Fluffykins better eat it all. I worked very hard to make those pancakes, you know."
"But—"
"No butsies." Holly got up from the table, and opened the kitchen fridge. She pulled out a cannister of whipped cream, and gave it a slight shake. "Or else he won't get the last bit of whipped cream with them."
"F-Fine..."
"I thought that would get him to eat." Holly replied, smiling once more.
Holly sighed as her father stumbled out of bed. She wasn't a stranger to his pain; just as he lost a wife, she and her sister both lost their mother. Deep down, though, Holly knew that their family couldn't keep going on like this, least they lose their father, too. She couldn't keep being the responsible parent of the house, especially now in a time like this. It hadn't been her father comforting her younger sister when the town seemed to explode last night, nor was it him ensuring that the three of them still had food to eat. No, it had all been Holly—a simple high school girl woefully unprepared to fill shoes too big for her.
The stress was getting to Holly, and it was certainly only going to get worse. There wasn't much more she could take.
Heading down the stairs to the kitchen, Holly took a seat at the dining table next to her sister, Morgan. She smiled, trying to think of something to talk about that didn't relate to their current situation. As much as Morgan needed to know for her own safety, Holly dreaded telling her that the world was no more. That there were man-hungry zombies roaming everywhere in their hometown and beyond, eager to eat them alive.
They were things you just couldn't tell a five year old kid, Holly felt. It was better to shelter Morgan as best as she could from the outside world, not scare her to death with reality. She hardly understood why their mother was gone, what hope did Holly have to tell her the truth here?
"Mr. Fluffykins says thank you," Morgan broke the silence, pretending that her stuffed cat was eating a plate of instant mix pancakes. "Ohm-nom-nom-nom!" She continued, making fake "cat-eating-a-pancake" noises.
"Well, Mr. Fluffykins better eat it all. I worked very hard to make those pancakes, you know."
"But—"
"No butsies." Holly got up from the table, and opened the kitchen fridge. She pulled out a cannister of whipped cream, and gave it a slight shake. "Or else he won't get the last bit of whipped cream with them."
"F-Fine..."
"I thought that would get him to eat." Holly replied, smiling once more.
