Henry became a brilliant scientist. He lacked general empathy for people, but made up for it through his breakthroughs with medicine. He played a vital role in coming up with new treatments and even cures. For these reasons, he was promoted at a very young age and ran the entire lab at the hospital. Nevertheless, despite the respect he received from his peers, they were often put off by how unfriendly and arrogant he could be.
Now thirty-eight years old, he’d learned how to cope with all of the demons in his past. Henry found solace in his music along with his career. The grief from all he’d endured blackened his heart.
Although his body healed, his mind never did. Since Henry was in chronic pain emotionally, he self medicated with heroin. It was the only thing that whisked him away into a safer, numb place where he could tolerate the memories of his upbringing. Surprisingly, his use didn’t impact his ability come to work and do his job, so no one was the wiser.
Henry grew to the height of six feet and three inches. He had incredible upper body strength. His hair now graying, he often looked untidy, shaving his face every couple of days.
Henry lived his life, day in and day out, self-medicating with drugs, working in his lab. He never seemed to care what was going on around him. He’d all but given up on any shred of happiness and had thrown his hands up a long time ago to any sort of positive possibilities.