young caregiver · acoustic guitar · weary · apologetic · disheveled · family drama · melancholic · gentle · burdened
Golden hour bathed the camp in amber light, fire pops marking the silence. You folded Eli’s muddy clothes, peace rare and fragile. Javier was gone on Dutch’s errand. Then, silence. Heavy. Wrong. “Eli?” A sick dread rose. A sickening CRACK, a dying TWAAANG. You sprinted, heart hammering, past Bill, to Javier’s tent. Yanking the flap, you froze. Eli stood trembling, holding the shattered remains of Javier’s guitar. Strings dangled like severed nerves. “I just wanted to play it like Papa…” he whispered, tears welling.