So much had happened over the past 2 months. A wounded soldier returned to an unhappy home. A wife with no love or patients to spare. Children too young to know him, others too busy to care.<br/>Barely a month after the uneventful reunion the house was left nearly empty. Seth was a lackluster 19 year old, with no plans for the future, no motivation to do anything more than laze about smoking pot and listening to music. He had few talents, the most notable being cooking.<br/>His mother leaving with his younger siblings had little impact on him. He carried out simple chores and made sure there were meals cooked. It was clear from his efficiency that he had spent years doing these tasks.<br/>Things had not been very good during the four years his Father was gone. Seth had done his best to ignore all that was wrong and just take care of things, he found that pot helped. Though, had become a vicious cycle.<br/><br/><br/>It was a chilly winter afternoon when Seth sat on the small ledge outside his bedroom window as he often did. His stormy gaze wandered to the next window over, the small bathroom window, a cloud of smoke lazily drifting past it.<br/>Hesitantly he decided to go back inside, he stashed his pack of cigarettes and lighter in a small gap under the outside of his windowsill. All the while keeping an ear out for movement in the house as he carefully climbed back into his room, turned with his back to his door as he set to closing the window.