DBDA nightly analysis #22!
tonight’s topic: charles’ death/abuse MASSIVE TWs guys!!
(this one’s gonna be p short bc i need to find more things to analyze in advance LMAO apologies!! ((also, this is going to be written sort of halfway in charles’ pov to help illustrate what i’m imagining this is like for him. obviously i dont think he’s weak or pathetic for not being able to survive the insane assault and abuse he faced.(((also also, this is my least favorite analysis ive written yet, im so sorry if this is your first impression of me i promise im usually better at this-))))))
a theory that has been plaguing my mind is that charles feels inadequate about his death. his death was a tragedy, of course, but so was his life. his father abused him for who knows how long, but certainly for a long time considering how used to it he seemed.
he was physically abused for years and here he was, not escaped yet, but not far from it. sixteen years old with about two years to go and at st. hilarion’s for the time being. he even had a few people he considered friends.
but then he watches as they do this wretched thing and hurt somebody innocent on account of a thing like their race. they were hurting someone who had done nothing wrong, just like his father did to him. and what’s worse, he was south asian too. this could be him in a second if they chose for it to be.
he couldn’t ever step up and protect himself, so here he was stepping in to protect someone else. someone he could see being him. he was the saviour he needed.
the boy got away.
he didn’t.
he took his place and that was fine. he could handle abuse. he could manage it. he dealt with it for so long that nothing they could do would affect him that much, right? and of course, the betrayal hurt, but hell, it hurt more when it was his dad who abused him. he could deal with this.
but the pain started getting worse, and the cold was sharper than he’d ever felt it. he had to run. he had to escape. he never had the chance to escape or run away or hide from his dad, he just had to take it. why was he so weak that he couldn’t handle it now?
he ran. he ran and he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t even focus on that because he was so cold. he was so bloody cold. he had never been this cold before. and it hurt like hell where they had thrown stones at him. the cold buried itself into where the bruises were probably forming and he was just shivering. it was all he could do.
and then charles died.
he died because of physical injuries. internal bleeding. what a fucking joke. he had sustained injuries that hurt way more than anything those bullies could’ve done but it was that fucking chill in the air- he had spent all his life in pain. he had spent all of his life with injuries and that’s what ended up killing him? he knew what pain was. he knew it well.
he thought it may be the end of him, but not like this. he though maybe his father would take it too far one day and- but it wasn’t even that. it was some boys trying to make fun of him and he wasn’t good enough to take it.
that’s why he swore to be that protector for edwin. edwin had saved him and now he wouldn’t ever have to worry about physical harm. charles would be able to endure that for him now. he couldn’t die from it anymore, could he? what did it matter.