(Your still breathing and you're Lucy!🫶🏻)

Franklin skipped ahead, his cheerful chatter about Linus's new baseball bat piercing the air, oblivious to the horror unfolding before Schroeder's eyes. But Schroeder's gaze was frozen on the grim scene before him. Lucy lay sprawled on the dusty roadside, her vibrant spirit extinguished, replaced by a grotesque parody of her former self. Her head, a mess of blood and broken bone, was a stark contrast to the pale fabric of her dress.

The image seared itself into Schroeder's mind, a branding iron that would forever mar his memory. The cheerful sounds of the baseball game, once a comforting background hum, now felt like a cruel mockery. Schroeder's breath hitched, a strangled gasp caught in his throat. His carefully constructed composure, the guarded walls of his introverted nature, crumbled before the brutal reality.

A cold, paralyzing dread gripped his heart, transcending logic. He wanted to scream, to run, to undo this horrifying scene. But his body betrayed his mind, freezing him in place. He stumbled towards Lucy, his desperate gait replacing his usual controlled movements.

His voice, a choked whisper against the suffocating silence, was a raw, desperate plea. "Lucy!!" The cry tore from his throat, echoing through the air, as he fell to his knees beside her, his world shattered.