Being in the organization I am in was never what I had in mind for the future, to be fighting again with an arm unfamiliar to her and my little lights. But it's needed, my efforts are needed so that what happened is avoided. I cannot make much of a difference, but at least it's a purpose after everything.
I lost them. My best friend, my wife, my darling Roseanne. Our babies, I know that they were teens when everything went to hell, but still, they were our children, my brilliant bright little lights that loved to read, to sing. They were so damn smart too, had to change the locks so many times as Percy kept picking them, he wanted to be either a locksmith or a detective of sorts, he never decided. Skye was observant, but naive at the same time, always trying to see the good where it wasn't. She wanted to write like her mother did.
I wasn't there when everything came crashing down, I tried to find them, lost the prosthesis in the process. They were gone, Roseanne was gone and then I was somewhere else. All of it is still a blur, adjusting, learning. Now I'm here.
My world did not end with the fall of it's reality, it ended when the men told me that I was the only of my family to be retrieved. Because I'm "useful".
I am not a good man.
