Dezmond spent the next couple days hiding in his room. His door locked and curtains drawn. He didn't want his parents seeing his tear blotched face, he also didn't want to see the sun.
He sat on his floor surrounded by hundreds of photos of him and Charlotte, 11 years of photos, of memories, of laughter, of life...Dezmond sat there, surrounded by memories of what had been taken away from him, alone crying in his room. He noticed as she got older in the pictures her smile got smaller, less bright, less full of hope. But in the photos of the two of them together her smile was brighter than ever.
To be continued..