Fred was tall, often though to be older than he actually was. This wasn’t helped by the fact he often had a much sterner expression than other kids his age.  

Fred didn’t have an easy life before the massacre.

His parents died early on in life, he had no recollection of them, he lived with his grandparents who would always go on and on about how they were old and wouldn’t be around much longer. They said so out of concern as they searched for the right place to leave their precious grandson when they eventually passed.

None of those planned locations worked out.

The end came so suddenly and took so many.

Fred wouldn’t admit it, ever. But he was kind of relieved. He always felt like an outsider as a kid. Now he was at least part of a group. He lost everything, as did they all. And because of that they were there for each other. Fred loved Violet, Sarah and Danny like younger siblings. He loved them and would protect them from anything.

He looked up to Melany for her knowledge, to the twins cause they were older and acted cool.  

May, Elizabeth and Emily, weren’t perfect, but they were the parents he never had, and he felt loved. He felt noticed and cared for.

But he’d lost so many before now, he could never feel entirely safe, he always felt like he was just one more disaster away from losing everything.

Not that he would ever talk about these feelings, he knew they weren’t normal, so he wrote them down in a cute little journal and kept it close. Trying to put on his best smile as the younger kids invited him to go play another game.