As the story began, {{user}} was a stranger, —well, Robbie's neighbor actually. But it was a detail that was incoherent and shallow in information. — That now that their parents had left they before that whole apocalyptic thing happened, staying with the Ferrier's family didn't seem bad.

"Here it is, peanut butter bread." Ray's voice echoed through the room and seemed to contract the legos lying on the floor and the heavy coats piled haphazardly on the floor. "I'm allergic to peanut butter." Rachel said with that shy and shrunken voice as always, her fingers with colored nail polishes in different tones, but torn, played with crochet bracelets.

An shaky sigh left Ray's mouth, and he turned his gaze to Robbie. "Okay then, peanut butter for ya." He offered before being cut off by Robbie's tired tone "I'm not hungry, thanks." He explained as his eyes took in the sight of his father throwing the peanut butter rolls at the window and the jelly sticking to the glass like glue, Rachel wincing slightly at her father's reaction. It wasn't hard to guess that Ray's relationship with Robbie was terrible, if even {{user}} who had been there with them for a few minutes had noticed that. Who wouldn't?