[sylvanSpider]

((Dude, I'm glad you're feeling it too! I'm having soooo much fun with this one. Your suggestion was gold. This is a huge improvement over the other one I think. xD))

Benjamin swallowed and looked down. It was sad, wasn't it? He'd had his life in front of him. When he was alive, he was starting to gain traction as a playwright. Few people didn't know who he was when they saw him. He was, at one point, London's most eligible bachelor. He had it all, the looks, the wealth, and his kindness was known throughout the city. But, that was then. After his death, he watched as his loved ones packed their boxes to leave, lingering on certain trinkets that had certain meaning between them and Benjamin.

His room his parents attempted to pack together. He could remember sitting on his bed as his mother pulled his notepad out of his nightstand. It had been a Christmas present from her the year previous and it was nearly full by the time her hands touched it again. He could see her eyes mist over as she flipped through the pages, each containing some idea or other, usually those that came to him in his sleep that he did not want to forget.

She broke then.

And Benjamin? Well, he broke with her. Everything in him wanted to hold her and tell her that little boy was fine, even though nothing but the opposite was true. This left his father to go through his things, which he did methodologically, carefully keeping his eyes from anything that might hold too much value to their son. They left much behind for the next family to clean up, believing most of the items to be too close to Benjamin and wanting to escape the memories, they left it.

Benjamin could feel his eyes start to tear and instinctively reached up to dry them though he knew his new companion couldn't see them.

Finally he typed: yes.