I do not own Life, it's characters, etc
I do not own Life, it's characters, etc. etc. etc. This was just a bunny that nibbled at me today until I had to get it down.
Why him?
It's a question he's had to stop asking himself, because there isn't a satisfactory answer that he knows of. He knows he doesn't know the answer because he's spent twelve years trying to answer that question and hasn't been able to come up with an answer. The answer isn't inside of him, it's outside -- out there, somewhere.
Why him? Why pick him to be the patsy? Was he just convenient, the best friend and business partner? Why not some other man off the street? Why not Kyle Hollis? Why him?
Why did everyone believe he could do it in the first place; they should have known better, his friends, his co-workers, Jennifer -- why did they believe he could just kill his best friend over something as stupid as pieces of paper? Why why why why why--
Deep breath. Clear your mind of all thoughts. Exhale. Deep breath. Exhale.
The closest thing he has ever found to an answer is that things larger than him, larger than the conspiracy that stole his life from him. His imprisonment was the tipping point; he had to be imprisoned so he could come back and restore the balance back --
-- and forth like the pendulum of the clock his mother got them as a wedding gift. Except they're not 'them' anymore, he remembers as his cheek twinges with remembered pain. He spent years hating her, and he's tried -- trying -- to let the last little bit of resentment that has a stubborn grip on his chest go. Some days he can accept that she's started a new life with Mark, that she's moved on from him. Some days he'd give anything -- do almost anything -- to have her back--
Which isn't working out so well at the moment. He definitely shouldn't have asked Mark for permission to sleep with his wife -- their wife? -- Jennifer. Jennifer certainly hadn't been amused either, despite what the three not-hers were promising the other night. Things had been so close the other night before the other night to returning to some sort of normal, like the past twelve years never happened--
Old Charlie -- pre-prison Charlie -- thought it was a prick move and really what could he expect? Asking a man to sleep with his wife, who does that? He does. All those years in prison he's lost his ability to filter -- which is funny because in prison he always had to watch how he phrased things -- maybe it disappeared when he walked through the fence? Old Charlie still thinks it's bullshit and wouldn't have ever done it -- well, he wouldn't have had to, now would he?
The past does not exist, there is only now, this moment. Or maybe the past, now and the future are all happening at once and he's here, he's making love to Jennifer, the cuffs are being snapped down on his wrists, and he's-- it's too big to contemplate. He can chose, live in the now or live in the past and at least now things change things can get better -- or worse -- but hopefully better.
He has to believe it will get better, moment to moment -- it is better because it's not Pelican Bay.
He can't ask himself 'why' any more, but that's not going to stop him from asking everyone else. They've taken Jennifer from him, Constance now too. They've tried for Ted, they'll try for Reese, but he's going to keep asking until somebody answers his question:
"Why me?"