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Oct. 12th, 2014 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ghostwhispersThere was nothing important left in the world. That was the curse of the Gilberts. Dead parents. Dead relatives. Dead sisters. Dead girlfriends. Everyone who ever held importance was gone forever, with no lingering hope remaining. And with them, so went Jeremy. What was the purpose in living for the dead? Jeremy dealt with it by not dealing at all. He woke in the mid-afternoon, when the sun was bright enough to remind him how much everything hurt. It was probably a hangover, or maybe it was the broken pieces shifting around his chest, stabbing him from within. Or maybe it was just something else to bury.
He lay sideways on the couch today, dead-eyed as he stared at his game of CoD. He wasn't winning, but that didn't appear to upset him in the least. Judging by the mountain of empty cans surrounding him, there were rather few things he found worthy of his attention right now.
He lost once more and let the controller slip through unresisting fingers, instead watching the game over sequence repeat itself. Whatever. Nothing mattered about it anyway.
He lay sideways on the couch today, dead-eyed as he stared at his game of CoD. He wasn't winning, but that didn't appear to upset him in the least. Judging by the mountain of empty cans surrounding him, there were rather few things he found worthy of his attention right now.
He lost once more and let the controller slip through unresisting fingers, instead watching the game over sequence repeat itself. Whatever. Nothing mattered about it anyway.
