#zivadavid

Side note: him referring to Ellie as Bishop made it feel so impersonal given s18 but also to be expected given how they ended

OBVIOUSLY, YES.

You sat at your desk, looking at an old picture that always stuck in your pocket. It was already completely wrinkled, the edges were creased in all directions, the picture had fine cracks and the color was fading but you could not throw it away, it was the only thing you had left of them.

You could still clearly remember the day when you lost everything as if it had only happened yesterday;

It was a normal evening when you and your brother laughed while setting the table with plates and utensils to have dinner with your father after he called that he was about to come with a surprise. When the door slammed shut a while after, you jumped out of the living room full of anticipation and ran towards him but stopped abruptly when you saw that a stranger was standing next to him and stayed for dinner.

She reminded you of your mother, her hair almost exactly like hers, if only a little shorter. Her eyes were just as bright and full of shine and the statue that this woman had resembled that of your deceased mother.

„Hello Y/N, I am Claire. Your father told me a lot about you.“ She introduced herself beaming with joy and your brother was immediately enthusiastic about her, on the contrary from you.

During dinner, he informed you that the woman at his side was your new mother and that he will marry her. As if a switch in your head had toggled, you started yelling. „I hate her, she is not out mother! How can you do this to mom? How can you replace her already?!“ and ran out of the house onto the street.

Of course, as a father does, he ran after you and stopped in the middle of the street. Normally it was harmless and your brother and you played there every day, rode a bike or painted with chalk.

But since then, none of you have played on this street ever since.

Before your father could speak a sentence to you, a truck drove up and it was too late to brake. In front of your eyes, the truck caught your father and dragged him a few meters with him before it came to a stop.

Any help came too late.

A bloody trail from where he was standing to where he came to stop, was the only thing left and still haunted you in your dreams to this day, after a good twelve years.

You still remembered the day of his funeral and pictures from the time appeared in front of you inner eyes.

You looked at your little brother walking carefully to his casket. His small hands struggled to hold the huge mug, it must have been piping hot. The entire room was watching as he slowly placed the mug on top of the cold, flat and dark wood. „It is time to wake up, daddy,“ he says cheerfully. „It is black coffee, just the way you like it.“

A smile was creeping up your face in the time of sadness as you saw him, talking to your dad. You made your way towards him, wanting to get him away from the lifeless body to explain him, that his father would never come back but as soon as you were near him, your fathers new chick showed up with a pregnant belly next to him. He kissed his little cheek and your heart shattered. Since then, there has been no contact with your only living family member. She took him away and you never saw your little brother again.

You sobbed quietly as memories caught up with you in a constant flow.

It was your fault. It all happened because you had to let out your anger in an uncontrolled manner like a brat. You shouldn’t have gotten mad, it was normal that life would go on, sooner or later. But you just did not understood that at the time.