Palmer: Part 2


Weeks would pass with Bernard slowly getting used to Palmer’s presence. He knew all the characters’ full names and backstories, the characters’ arcs and why they had to worship a birthday hat for good luck (seriously, a birthday hat?). Despite all the weirdness in this comic, Palmer really admired and appreciated one character the most.
“We actually never know his name,” he stated once. “We just know his deeds and that he’s the main character’s-”
“Best friend, yeah.”
“Yeah, and we only see him in a flashback. His impact really kind of made the main character’s character… and like, he supported him no matter what happened, no matter what belief he went against. He literally had to suffer so much! Just to support his best friend. So, what was his crime? Supporting someone?”


He held the book with his palm absent-mindedly. “It’s like a sign of how heavy the injustice works- and how that isn’t the beginning. I really want to know more about him though. But I can’t.”
“Oh- why not?”
“There’s a separate book for that, and it’s way expensive than these comics. It’s like a novella kind of… and since it’s about a character no one really cares about, it’s not really advertised much. My parents don’t allow me to online-shop anyway.”
“Oh…”

Bernard and Palmer hadn’t realized it but soon, it was time to head back to the city.
When Palmer woke up to that news two days ago before leaving, he was ecstatic. No more insects! No more horrible electricity! No more anxiety of ghosts lurking around their open windows!
But he still had to help his parents pack their belongings, which meant he couldn’t go tell Bernard about him leaving.
“You can tell him once we’re done,” his father said vaguely.
They weren’t done till the day of leaving.
That morning, Palmer took his sweet time with dressing, until his mother snapped at him to hurry up and gather his things. Disheartened, he wobbled into the car that somehow still smelt like vomit from a few months ago and sat with a heavy heart. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to Bernard.
His father got into the driver’s seat and glanced back at him. “Also, there’s this guy who wanted to give you a parcel last night.”
Palmer frowned as he received the parcel with a familiar rectangular shape. The next thing his mother heard was an excited shriek and his father’s surprised shouts.
“HE GOT IT FOR ME!”
“GOT WHAT?”
“THE BOOK THAT I WANTED FOR SO LONG!”
Once the excitement died down, the urge to tell Bernard goodbye grew stronger. He begged his parents to just let him run and at least wave him goodbye. His mother refused to let him out of the car. “You’ve spent so many months with him more than us. You will remain here.”
As much as he didn’t want to admit, there were tears forming up behind his eyelids. He needed to say goodbye. At least once.
That, however, did not happen.
They drove away in complete silence, except for Palmer’s hiccoughs as he struggled not to cry.


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