Summary: Chris' life was fun and that of any typical boy. That is, until
everything took a turn for the worse, after his mother's death, and his
life became an empty shell.
o.o
Chris stared blankly at the people shaking Wyatt's hand at the funeral. Coworkers from P3, friends, people he didn't know... He felt his grandpa's hand squeezing his shoulder and squirmed. He didn't need comfort. He was fine. He knew this would happen eventually. He knew that good things never lasted in their family. He'd seen it over the years. Seen it when his father left forever and never looked at him; seen it when the innocents they were trying to protect from demons died; seen it whenever someone from his family was under a spell and did bad things; seen it when Wyatt was brought to the tribunal; seen it when his grandfather was going through surgery to stop the cancer; seen it when his aunts died; seen it everywhere, all the time. And he'd seen it when his mother died in his hands and no one came to help.
o.o
Chris came through the front door and dropped his bag on the couch. "Grandpa, I'm home!" he announced, bounding up the stairs to his room. He reached it and jumped on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He stared at it blankly and resolutely, trying to keep his emotions inside. Today was the first mother's day since his mom's death. His teacher's voice echoed in his head: "Good morning class. Well, I hope you've all prepared something for your mothers on this special-" He blinked back tears, remembering how almost everyone in his class sneaked glances at him and the teacher's expression after she abruptly stopped talking. Chris took a big breath and stood up determinedly, wiping his tears away angrily. He couldn't cry about this anymore, it's been 4 months, he told himself. But things were so different. He no longer woke up every morning to the smell of his mother's food. He no longer saw her warm smile every morning, as she shook him awake and kissed him on the forehead before telling him to get out of bed in a brisk tone. He no longer heard her yelling at him to come fetch his bag from the couch every day after school. He no longer helped her look for demons in the book. He no longer made potions with her. He no longer ticked his tongue impatiently at special events because his mom would squeal at him to say "cheese" from behind the camera. He no longer heard her shout at him after he fought with Wyatt or getting caught cheating at an exam in school. She was no longer there to hug him whenever his dad ditched him. She was no longer there to... Chris gulped and rested his head in his hands, falling back onto the bed and weeping, memories of his mom overwhelming him. He wept for several minutes before he felt his grandfather's arms around him, comforting him. He leaned into his grandpa's embrace for a moment before pulling away and wiping his tears away heatedly, mumbling something about homework under his breath. He walked towards his desk and pretended to calculate something. Victor walked away, letting out a frustrated sigh.
o.o
A/N: I have no idea where I'm going with this. I don't think I'll go with it anywhere. I just felt like writing this because I was listening to Whitney's and Mariah's "When you believe" and I was feeling all emotion and thinking about Chris. So there you go people, hope you liked it, and please review! (
o.o
Chris stared blankly at the people shaking Wyatt's hand at the funeral. Coworkers from P3, friends, people he didn't know... He felt his grandpa's hand squeezing his shoulder and squirmed. He didn't need comfort. He was fine. He knew this would happen eventually. He knew that good things never lasted in their family. He'd seen it over the years. Seen it when his father left forever and never looked at him; seen it when the innocents they were trying to protect from demons died; seen it whenever someone from his family was under a spell and did bad things; seen it when Wyatt was brought to the tribunal; seen it when his grandfather was going through surgery to stop the cancer; seen it when his aunts died; seen it everywhere, all the time. And he'd seen it when his mother died in his hands and no one came to help.
o.o
Chris came through the front door and dropped his bag on the couch. "Grandpa, I'm home!" he announced, bounding up the stairs to his room. He reached it and jumped on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. He stared at it blankly and resolutely, trying to keep his emotions inside. Today was the first mother's day since his mom's death. His teacher's voice echoed in his head: "Good morning class. Well, I hope you've all prepared something for your mothers on this special-" He blinked back tears, remembering how almost everyone in his class sneaked glances at him and the teacher's expression after she abruptly stopped talking. Chris took a big breath and stood up determinedly, wiping his tears away angrily. He couldn't cry about this anymore, it's been 4 months, he told himself. But things were so different. He no longer woke up every morning to the smell of his mother's food. He no longer saw her warm smile every morning, as she shook him awake and kissed him on the forehead before telling him to get out of bed in a brisk tone. He no longer heard her yelling at him to come fetch his bag from the couch every day after school. He no longer helped her look for demons in the book. He no longer made potions with her. He no longer ticked his tongue impatiently at special events because his mom would squeal at him to say "cheese" from behind the camera. He no longer heard her shout at him after he fought with Wyatt or getting caught cheating at an exam in school. She was no longer there to hug him whenever his dad ditched him. She was no longer there to... Chris gulped and rested his head in his hands, falling back onto the bed and weeping, memories of his mom overwhelming him. He wept for several minutes before he felt his grandfather's arms around him, comforting him. He leaned into his grandpa's embrace for a moment before pulling away and wiping his tears away heatedly, mumbling something about homework under his breath. He walked towards his desk and pretended to calculate something. Victor walked away, letting out a frustrated sigh.
o.o
A/N: I have no idea where I'm going with this. I don't think I'll go with it anywhere. I just felt like writing this because I was listening to Whitney's and Mariah's "When you believe" and I was feeling all emotion and thinking about Chris. So there you go people, hope you liked it, and please review! (