Rosaleen, Aiden — Present day, 25 years old
Charlie was sitting on Rosaleen’s bed, his face buried in his hands, crying. Rosaleen was rubbing his back.
“I am so sorry, Charlie.”
She sighed and took his hands, taking them off of his face.
“Charlie, does anyone know about it?”
He shook his head.
“Let me help, please.”
Charlie once again shook his head but more frantically this time.
“D-don’t. My father can’t know that I told anyone, it would end up by getting my mother in trouble…”
Rosaleen sighed and stroked his cheek.
“Okay. Then, let me clean your lip?”
Rosaleen got up and went to the bathroom, once inside she gently closed the door behind her and let some tears fall. She washed her face, took a deep breath, she then took the aid kit, and before leaving the bathroom she forced a reassuring smile and went back to her bedroom.
Aiden sadly shook his head, looking at his cup, freshly refilled.
“His whole life long… He had to fight.”
“I just wish we would’ve been there for him on that day. Either of us would have been able to stop him.”
Aiden nodded. Rosaleen took a deep breath.
“I still talk to his mother. We even write sometimes.”
Aiden looked up at her.
“Yeah, well, as you know she came to stay with my mom and I after she left her husband. She stayed for a year and a half. She needed to be with people and my mom having gone through a divorce, I think it was great for her to have people to relate to in both of horrible things that happened to her. After all, we both lo