Post by GILBERT BEILSCHMIDT on Aug 15, 2014 21:36:45 GMT -5
The smallish cardboard box had been delivered to Gilbert in the beginning of his fourth year at Asher Academy along with the news of his uncle's passing. The teen had taken the parcel, in shock, and had returned to his room in a dazed silence.
Half of him had wanted to tear open the box and desperately grasp at whatever it was that his uncle had left him. The other half was reluctant, afraid that opening that box would make it all real. It seemed as though opening it would only finalize his uncle's death, and he couldn't bear that thought. Instead, he had shoved the box back into the darkest corner of his closet and had forgotten about it... almost.
However, the damned thing had been sitting there for about four years by the time Gilbert had found it there, covered in dust. The anxiety and sorrow washed over him again, hitting him in the gut and leaving him breathless. But now he was older, more mature, and he knew that hiding the box again wouldn't change anything.
Steeling himself, he finally pulled it open with trembling hands.
The item sitting on top of everything else, addressed to him in neat, familiar handwriting, was a yellowed envelope. There was a three page letter inside, the contents of which Gilbert would never share or forget. With tears in his eyes, he brushed them back to examine the other contents of the box.
Beneath the letter was an album, six journals, and an old picture that Gilbert had drawn for his uncle nearly eleven years before. He smiled at the crayon scrawl where he had misspelled both his name and his uncle's beside the picture of what he could only describe as a blue potato with facial features.
The journals were filled with careful observations of Gilbert's growth and development. It was fairly obvious that the old man had intended his nephew to someday read them, and he had written in many helpful notes on how Gilbert could improve himself or things that he should consider.
But, of all the items, the one that drew Gilbert's attention the most was the album. Inside were old, old pictures of stiff-looking individuals with impressive mustaches or intricate updos. At the back of the album were photos of Gilbert and Ludwig with their parents and uncle.The most recent addition had been of thirteen-year-old Gilbert in his Asher uniform, grinning triumphantly with his honor roll certificate held aloft.
He couldn't help but grin now at the memory and the caption "Gilbert Beilschmidt - Asher Academy Third Year - I'm proud of you."
However, as he flipped through the pages of the album more, he realized why his uncle had left it to him. Not only were these photos and portraits of his family members, but also a lineage of, well, superhumans.
Excited, Gilbert dashed off to the courtyard where he knew he would find his little brother. He had to show Ludwig.
"Hey West!" Cackling with delight, he held the album carefully slung in his arm as he sprinted over to the younger Beilschmidt. "Check it out! You gotta see this!"
Half of him had wanted to tear open the box and desperately grasp at whatever it was that his uncle had left him. The other half was reluctant, afraid that opening that box would make it all real. It seemed as though opening it would only finalize his uncle's death, and he couldn't bear that thought. Instead, he had shoved the box back into the darkest corner of his closet and had forgotten about it... almost.
However, the damned thing had been sitting there for about four years by the time Gilbert had found it there, covered in dust. The anxiety and sorrow washed over him again, hitting him in the gut and leaving him breathless. But now he was older, more mature, and he knew that hiding the box again wouldn't change anything.
Steeling himself, he finally pulled it open with trembling hands.
The item sitting on top of everything else, addressed to him in neat, familiar handwriting, was a yellowed envelope. There was a three page letter inside, the contents of which Gilbert would never share or forget. With tears in his eyes, he brushed them back to examine the other contents of the box.
Beneath the letter was an album, six journals, and an old picture that Gilbert had drawn for his uncle nearly eleven years before. He smiled at the crayon scrawl where he had misspelled both his name and his uncle's beside the picture of what he could only describe as a blue potato with facial features.
The journals were filled with careful observations of Gilbert's growth and development. It was fairly obvious that the old man had intended his nephew to someday read them, and he had written in many helpful notes on how Gilbert could improve himself or things that he should consider.
But, of all the items, the one that drew Gilbert's attention the most was the album. Inside were old, old pictures of stiff-looking individuals with impressive mustaches or intricate updos. At the back of the album were photos of Gilbert and Ludwig with their parents and uncle.The most recent addition had been of thirteen-year-old Gilbert in his Asher uniform, grinning triumphantly with his honor roll certificate held aloft.
He couldn't help but grin now at the memory and the caption "Gilbert Beilschmidt - Asher Academy Third Year - I'm proud of you."
However, as he flipped through the pages of the album more, he realized why his uncle had left it to him. Not only were these photos and portraits of his family members, but also a lineage of, well, superhumans.
Excited, Gilbert dashed off to the courtyard where he knew he would find his little brother. He had to show Ludwig.
"Hey West!" Cackling with delight, he held the album carefully slung in his arm as he sprinted over to the younger Beilschmidt. "Check it out! You gotta see this!"