Benedito Goncalo Cruz Pereira
Jordan, Abigail and I both jolted slightly when we heard the loud tractor noise come from the living room. Their house had a more open plan concept so from the kitchen you could see straight into the living room.
On their large leather brown couch that I swore was Bobby's favourite, he sat with his head thrown back resting on multiple cushions, his feet rested on the coffee table and his hands were sprawled out on his sides.
His mouth, very ungraciously, hung open as he snored loudly, almost causing the whole house to shake. I knew he had taken his medication which always knocked him out, plus his crying from earlier and just generally having too much emotions always made Bobby sleepy.
