Grief is cumulative. Rage an easy response. Bowed down under a load that keeps growing. I will disappear or I will fight back.
Too many years, drifting, seeing them laugh, love, seeing them dance and shout. All bright. Strong in their absence of years. Not one knowing … knowing how it felt. To lose. To hate.
He'd no idea it would be so easy to slip into them. Make them do what he wanted. He can't leave. His father's grief is too heavy. He sees it every day. The rage builds.
Release, when granted, is like nothing else. Free. Finally.