Appearance: I wanted to find an image to fit the kind of clothes he wears (obviously it's not that) but I wasn't having any luck. Or a better image all together... I'll keep looking but thought I should go ahead and post in the meantime.
Other: He lead a rather glorious life. Not to say he was spoiled but there was never a shortage of things he needed and what he wanted was never far behind. He had friends just as well off as himself, so never experienced any real grief- beyond the short tang of realizing he had no father to go to sporting events with. It was hardly the end of the world.
This wasn't suppose to happen.
People weren't really suppose to die like this. Right?
It was just something that happened in the movies to build up the drama, to push the plot along but... the cold hand within his own wasn't simply some fictional scene. This was as real as the air he breathed and oh so bitter. Perhaps he would have been upset all these secrets had been kept from him had his mother not lie dying before his eyes. They had said there was still a chance she could be saved but somehow the ambulance couldn't drive fast enough. For all the pain he was feeling right then he had gotten off scotch free, aside from losing what he had (for the longest time) believed was his only living family member. That hurt far worse than any injury he could have substained in the crash.
Now he was left alone.
With nothing but the simple knowledge that he had a sister- a twin. That this had been kept from him from years and just as he hadn't known, she probably wouldn't either. His mother had said that she left his sibling with a good man for the safety of them both(not that she ever explained the reasoning behind this). She couldn't have known she was wrong about the caretaker she had choosen. He had been a childhood friend she said... that she would trust him with her life and clearly her child.
It was all too easy to find people these days. You just needed a name and the internet and it was all spilled out on the screen. He had located a phone number and with that- an address. As much as he wanted to stay for a funeral and for social services to figure out whether or not they could pass him into society under the title 'adult', his mother had left him with a heavy weight and after a little bit of research he couldn't help but pack up a few things to board that first bus. Public transport was uncomfortable for him but not as much as driving would be so soon after the accident. He just scrunched in on himself, hands in his jacket pockets as he avoid eye contact like the average crowd was full of beasts: thugs, theives, gang members, drug dealers so maybe it really was.
Especially in the city in which his converse shoes touched down on cold concrete.