It Isn't Easy
'People die every day… It's a lot easier to say it than to live it.' –Sympathy for the Lost Love, Pseudo-Author
It was something he saw almost every day. Death. People die every day in every way possible as morbid as it is, 108 people per minute to be exact.
Some people act like it never happened, some cry every second. Some like the pity and the comfort while others prefer loneliness and solitude.
Shawn knew people died at some point, who doesn't? He knew he would die, Juliet and Gus would die, and his father would die. Shawn hadn't thought he'd die so early though...
Henry Spencer, his father, had been shot down yesterday last night.
When Shawn went to the station the next morning, everything was mixed. Some didn't care and were silent; others didn't approach but looked at him with pity. Those who got close hugged him, Juliet gave him a kiss on the cheek; Shawn wasn't sure if he had responded. Everything was numb and he couldn't see straight.
Just as Shawn thought everything and everyone would be the same that day, he neared Carlton's desk.
Carlton looked up in time to see him and they made eye contact. Carlton stood and walked over before he put his hand on Shawn's shoulder; still making eye contact.
Carlton's eyes conveyed many things but: "Morning," was all he said.
Shawn's eyes conveyed just as much. "Morning," he replied quietly.
Shawn continued to Vick's office, Carlton's hand in between his shoulder blades; holding him up. They walked in together.
"Morning," they said in unison.
'In the end, it's not the years in your life that counts; it is the life in your years." –Abraham Lincoln, 16th President
End.
