#rdr jack

i can’t think about jack marston without nearly crying over just how sorry i feel for him. like, i’m sorry you were only four years old when the admittedly unstable support system you had fell apart. i’m sorry you didn’t have a real, permanent home until you were twelve, and i’m sorry you only got four years before that too was ripped away from you. i’m sorry you felt that you had to prove yourself otherwise your father would leave again like he’s done multiple times before. i’m sorry you felt so inferior you were unable to believe that your parents loved you so much and would have done anything for you. i’m sorry you had to pick up a gun and shoot at people at sixteen and kill a man for the first time at nineteen. i’m sorry you watched uncle die then watched your mother lose herself to grief over your father’s corpse, riddled with bullets in front of your home. i’m sorry you had to bury your mother only three years later. i’m sorry you lost your family and yourself and willingly threw your life away so young in the name of revenge no one wanted you to seek. i’m sorry you ended up all alone and grew up to be exactly the man your family did everything to save you from becoming. i’m so sorry jack marston.

ruined my own day just now by remembering that, upon finding her husband’s corpse riddled with bullets in front of their home, abigail immediately went to feel for a heartbeat despite it being genuinely impossible for him to have survived that, and her sixteen-year-old son was the one who had to pull her away from john’s body while she sobbed and desperately tried to find any sign of life