Post by thelori24 on Mar 9, 2017 5:19:48 GMT
Sam's son had always been a bright kid, smart, funny, eager and enthusiastic about everything. He remembered him coming out and being excited about the most mundane stuff like putting up fence posts, or cleaning out the barn. He wanted to know everything, do everything...that was a kid who was going places.
Then...without warning...it all crashed and burned. He heard all about it from Harriett as she grew increasingly worried about him, his grades slipped, he lost interest in his hobbies, in his friends. But everything that came to them wasn't the answer. They worried he was sick...nothing came back from multiple visits to multiple doctors. They worried maybe he was on drugs, but the tests came back clean. They worried maybe he needed a change of scenery, Harriett arranged for him to go to Europe for a semester, he came back home partway through because he couldn't keep up with the work.
Now he was out in Wyoming, he'd always liked the ranch...Sam had hoped someday to maybe leave it to him, if he wanted it. Once upon a time he'd said yes to that, now he didn't seem to care. About that, about anything. Sam tried to get him to
talk about things he used to care about, school, careers he'd wanted to follow, places he'd wanted to visit, a girl he'd wanted to ask out. He tried to get him involved in work around the ranch, but the list of chores had slowly dwindled to just a handful of things around the house, and he struggled to keep up even with those.
Grayson was *trying*...Sam could tell that much, but it was like everything he did was with lead weights strapped to him and every day Sam watched what little light was left in his eyes die a little more. Nothing he did helped, and that messed with him. HE'd been able to help so many other kids, kids everyone else had given up on, kids on the brink...but he couldn't help Grayson. He couldn't seem to help his own son, and he kind of hated himself for it.
He couldn't sleep, downstairs in the living room. The TV had been left on, although the station had signed off hours ago, just the low hum of the off-the-air tone and the test pattern across the screen. He sat with a book in his lap, but he didn't pay it any mor attention than the TV, staring blankly at the page, one hand resting on teh shoulders of the dog asleep next to him with her head in his lap. He didn't even know what to do or try anymore...but he couldn't just accept defeat like that, there had to be something left he could try.
Then...without warning...it all crashed and burned. He heard all about it from Harriett as she grew increasingly worried about him, his grades slipped, he lost interest in his hobbies, in his friends. But everything that came to them wasn't the answer. They worried he was sick...nothing came back from multiple visits to multiple doctors. They worried maybe he was on drugs, but the tests came back clean. They worried maybe he needed a change of scenery, Harriett arranged for him to go to Europe for a semester, he came back home partway through because he couldn't keep up with the work.
Now he was out in Wyoming, he'd always liked the ranch...Sam had hoped someday to maybe leave it to him, if he wanted it. Once upon a time he'd said yes to that, now he didn't seem to care. About that, about anything. Sam tried to get him to
talk about things he used to care about, school, careers he'd wanted to follow, places he'd wanted to visit, a girl he'd wanted to ask out. He tried to get him involved in work around the ranch, but the list of chores had slowly dwindled to just a handful of things around the house, and he struggled to keep up even with those.
Grayson was *trying*...Sam could tell that much, but it was like everything he did was with lead weights strapped to him and every day Sam watched what little light was left in his eyes die a little more. Nothing he did helped, and that messed with him. HE'd been able to help so many other kids, kids everyone else had given up on, kids on the brink...but he couldn't help Grayson. He couldn't seem to help his own son, and he kind of hated himself for it.
He couldn't sleep, downstairs in the living room. The TV had been left on, although the station had signed off hours ago, just the low hum of the off-the-air tone and the test pattern across the screen. He sat with a book in his lap, but he didn't pay it any mor attention than the TV, staring blankly at the page, one hand resting on teh shoulders of the dog asleep next to him with her head in his lap. He didn't even know what to do or try anymore...but he couldn't just accept defeat like that, there had to be something left he could try.
