There's a hole in the trailer dear Ryder, dear Ryder

Summer 2021, Week 4, Sunday early morning

Ryder Hooker's Trailer, The Wards

Storyteller

It may be hard to believe but this trailer was once a loaned escape. A place where it's only resident could calmly sit down and think about things, drink coffee, whiskey, or hell just read an old fashioned book before it's owner developed some photos and went through his recorder. It was calm orderly, organised. In a young adults way of an "Organised mess" where there is a pile of used and not used film right next to each other.
This sanctuary is no longer that. Bullet holes like freckles decorating a young woman's face were buried into all the walls and windows like Ryders dreams of completing highschool and going to university shattered across the floor, unable to be repaired, now fragments of an impossible future. The detective books, The Hardy boys, Nancy Drew, countless real accounts of investigations, and warm journalism scattered on the floor like a game of fifty two pickup where the players gave up on cleaning before they had begun. Only one room remained untouched from the viscous assault that had happened in henry just hours earlier. The small bathroom on the other side of the trailer, draped in darkness with a single red light illuminating the room like a weak sun, having been turned into an improvised development room.
A place once safe now desecrated by the fight of Evo's, gangsters, Cops and Vigilantes. This is what Ryder comes home to.

Ryder Hooker

"No. Oh god no no no no no." The suited man ruffled quickly through his pockets the contents spilling onto the ground. A spare pack of smokes, a matchbox from a club, some lint and a single key without a keyring or a chain, just asking to be lost. He quickly scrambles them back into his pocket his breath getting more and more shallow and fearful with each second. His hand quickly gripped the key like a vice to metal being bashed into shape.
GASP
Before he could climb up from his knees Ryders eyes glazed over. DOOM DOOM DOOM He didn't feel anything at first though his senses were being overwhelmed by the noise of a loud machine pressing holes into a panel of metal. After a minute when he managed to calm down and stood up Ryder realised the sudden lacking of a body but somehow he could move and look around. Seeing the worker lazily operate the machine with a cigarette slouching out of his mouth like they had both just experienced a crappy monday or had forgotten something.

Storyteller

"Hey Tony, I was just gonna remind ya it yours and the missus anniversary. Paying ya back for you saving my ass on it last year." A deep voice with a thick Boston accent seemed to boom just out where Ryder could move and see. He tested a few things screaming and yelling to help and let him out, trying to grab onto the man he could see but like a ghost he was ignored.
The lazy machine worker with the slouching cigarette looked over to where the voice came from. "Eh you got it wrong. Missus left me the other night. Took the kids too. Said we needed a break or somethin' but I uh dunno....I messed up somehow." The conversation continued to proceed as Ryder felt himself get pulled away into seemingly another memory, and another and another, until he saw himself the first time he put the key into the lock and suddenly he was back and now standing where he was infront of the ruined trailer.

[Power Pather: Psychometry Minor x1 -1EP 14/15]

Ryder Hooker

"W--what the fuck was that shit? Oh god just get inside Ryder just get inside." The young man clambered his way to the door and like a winning blow in a fencing match thrusted the key into the lock and opened the door. His nose became barraged and bombed by strong mix of smells. Whiskey, gunpowder, and the smell of his tea leaves caused him to collapse onto his knees again.
"My father is going to be so pissed if I don't fix this before he gets out. God this is gonna take forever and I'm exhausted....." Ryder exahustedly sighed and put on some gloves for cleaning and got to work, he'd need new books and furinture, and some actual cleaning chemicals, but he could at least pick up the glass, and anything left on the floor. He wasn't going to let Henry ruin this place for him. He wasn't going to let the stupid city and it's stupid conflicts take away what little he has left. After a few hours he collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep dark sleep, the exhaustion had set in so badly that he didn't even dream that night.

Type

Record, Historical

Medium

Digital Recording, Text