A New Life

On a bright, clear day I was walking down a residential street that I was unfamiliar with. This was not a street I could remember being on either in Texas or in California. The street signs that I passed were all first names of people. Children were playing somewhere in the area, I could hear them laughing and screaming but they weren't in sight. A breeze blew across me, chilling me in the warm sun. The wind started to howl and clouds floated across the sky. Gradually it got darker and I felt the first few drops of rain against my face. It was going to pour so I decided to try the next house and see if anyone was home.

I rang the doorbell and waited for an answer for a minute or so before knocking on the wooden door with my fist. Again I waited for an answer that didn't come. The house looked like your normal everyday split-level type of house but, for some reason, I could feel a twinge of anticipation building in my gut. The doorknob turned when I twisted it and I stepped inside announcing my presence. The one thing I kept worrying about was someone sneaking up, believing I was a burglar and sticking a gun in my face. I went from room to room but never found anyone at home. I started to backtrack to leave but the further I went the more unfamiliar everything looked. The walls were a different earthy tan color and seemed to be widening. The floor had a different feel beneath my feet. I could hear the rain pounding on the roof and decided to wait out the storm. I headed in the direction of the living room I had seen a few moments ago. The next thing I knew, I wasn't in a house at all but in a school hallway.

The school hall lights were off and I could barely see where I was walking. As I walked, I realized that these weren't familiar lockers. This wasn't my school. I figured that if I could find the main office I'd be able to figure out where I was or at least take a nap in the nurses' office. I obviously needed some sleep. Disoriented, I walked alone in the dark halls for what seemed like hours.

Looking in a few of the classrooms was proving useless. It was darker in there than in the hall. I attempted turning a few doorknobs but every one I tried was locked up tight. I slowly walked onwards, checking classroom doors now and then. When I happened upon a door that was unlocked I opened it, stepped just inside and tried to turn on the lights but they weren't working. I stood there in the open doorway, the dim shaft of light spilling around my form from behind me providing the only luminescence in the room. The floor looked liquid, appearing to roll with small waves. It smelled horrible like rotten eggs or spoiled meat. I started to feel a scratching sensation down around my ankles that tickled a little at first but became annoying then more and more painful. Suddenly I felt a jabbing pain on the outside of my foot like I had stepped on glass. I jumped onto my one good leg and lifted my hurting foot to check for a cut. As my foot became more visible, I saw a brown fuzzy critter that unexpectedly swung around blaring its beady eyes at me. A chorus of squeaks surrounded me as I bolted from the room.

Running at break neck speeds down the hall I turned the corner into a stairwell. A sign reading "Roof Access" was on the wall by the stairs leading up. I didn't want the roof. I wanted the office. I wanted to know exactly where I was, why I was the only one there and why there were rats in that room.

I went down one flight of stairs to get some distance between me and the rats then sat on the bottom step to collect myself. The howling of distant restless hounds and my heavy breathing was all that broke the silence. I got up and pushed on the doors to this level but found them locked. I went down another flight of stairs then around the bend and slammed against another set of locked doors. "This is really starting to piss me off," I thought aloud as I continued down another flight of stairs. In the shadows, I saw the shape of a man. "Who's there?" I asked calmly but received no reply. "Ok, the fun's about over. Who's there and where the hell am I?" I demanded, walking slowly closer to the dark form in the shadows. My adrenaline level was way up and if this dude wanted a fight, I was gonna give him one he'd not likely forget.

A familiar voice, barely audible asked, "No more worries?"

I stood there silently waiting for another sound to identify. Dry leaves rustled across the ceramic floor into the dark corner where the voice came from.

"No more tears?" the voice softly said.

I shook uncontrollably and sat on the step before I tumbled the rest of the way down. I know that voice. At least I've known the voice. It seemed such a distant memory though.

More clearly, but still softly, the voice said, "Don't worry, baby. I'll get ya fixed up."

"Keith?" I asked nervously.

Stepping out of the darkness into the dim light Keith said, "Yes my love. I'm here." He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a white shirt and necktie. I'd never seen him dressed like this and he was unbelievably handsome, almost angelic.

I smiled my warmest most affectionate smile, the one I saved only for him. "Oh man, you just about scared the piss out of me." I said, breathlessly chuckling as I released some of the tension that had been building.

"You don't ever need to be frightened of me, Prez." He said sitting beside me on the step but looking straight ahead as if talking to my reflection in the glass door. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn't ever hurt you."

I moved to put my arm around his shoulder but he quickly stood up, turned around and started up the steps. "Keith? Where am I?" I asked.

"You've been heading the wrong way. You don't need to go downstairs. Come with me. I'll get you where you need to be."

I stood up and followed my boyfriend up the stairs. "Sure would be nice if there was more light," I said. "It's kind of like Inner Sanctum in here."

"Hmm… there's places darker than this, bud." Keith said, matter-of-factly. We walked back up to the level where I started. Keith pointed at the "Roof Access" sign and said, "That's where you need to be but I want to show you a few things first. I think it'll make things easier for you."

"What kind of things do you want to show me?" I asked. "You're talking in riddles again, Keith. Just like you always do before a surprise."

We walked around the corner back down the long hall where the rats were. I dutifully followed where he led me. In all this time since he appeared from the darkness I'd only seen his face for a moment. When I sped up my walk to be beside him he walked or jogged faster, making sure I stayed a few paces behind. I was laughing and so was he from this little game of cat and mouse but I couldn't see his face.

"It's not a surprise really," Keith said, "it's more like a history lesson."

"History? What kind of history? American, Greek, World, what?" I asked.

Keith answered, "Your history. Or rather what you've missed or have been blocking. Can you tell me what day it is Prez?"

I thought for a moment or two then answered, "October 17th, 1997."

Keith nodded but then shook his head. "I thought you might have missed a lot. Prez, it's November 16^th, 1997. I understand, you've had a few shocks recently."

I was totally confused now. "What kind of shocks?" I asked.

"The worst kind," Keith answered, and stopped at a water fountain. He pushed on the lever and water shot from the fountain in a great arc, splashing into a puddle on the floor. When the puddle had reached a good forty or so inches Keith released the lever. "Come here by me, Prez." Keith said, waving me over beside him. He pointed down at the puddle and I looked down into it.

I saw hands on a steering wheel and windshield wipers going back and forth. Then I saw the road sign announcing the 101 to 134 split. A big-rig trailer was jack-knifing up ahead. The truck came in and out of view twice then completely gone. Puzzled, I looked at Keith for answers to what I just saw.

Keith sighed. "Those were the last things your mother saw, baby. She lasted for a few days in the hospital but she was dead the second her head hit the steering wheel."

I had no recollection of any of it. How could my mom be dead and I don't even remember it? If it were anyone other than Keith telling me this, I wouldn't have believed it. My sight was fixed on the puddle. Keith and his family were with me the days after the accident at the hospital and during the wake services. The day of my mom's funeral is the day my dad flew from Texas. The last time I saw Keith and the Hundser's was when my mom was buried. I watched the puddle as all our belongings were sold or given away by my father. I watched myself arguing with my dad then being backhanded in the face and landing against the wall. The pictures in the puddle faded.

"You asked me where you were… you're in Texas again Prez, living with your dad," Keith said. "I tried to stop it. My dad tried too. You made it very clear that you didn't want to go back there."

I sobbed uncontrollably for a long while. Keith pointed at the puddle and I focused through my teary eyes as the faded images became clear. I watched Keith, Mike and Derrick passing a joint around by Mike's pool. They simply sat there sobbing with their feet hanging into the pool. The image faded then focused again on Drew, Corey and John. Once again, three boys sat silent in the Hundser's living room Then the images faded away.

"That was the day you left. We all loved you Prez. When you left, none of us could deal with our sorrow very well, especially me. " Keith said.

The puddle came back to life. More images of Keith lying in bed alone and crying. Images of Mr. Hundser trying to comfort Keith and Keith angrily pushing him away. One person after another, Mike, Derrick, Mrs. Hundser, Drew and John all tried to help Keith and all were pushed away or ignored.

"When you were gone, no one could show me affection without me getting angry about it. I loved you that much," Keith explained, "I couldn't be around anyone and everyone stopped trying to be around me. They thought they were giving me space and time to recover. What they didn't know was that I didn't want to heal. I was more depressed than ever before."

I watched the Keith in the puddle as he took a bottle of bourbon from his dad's liquor cabinet. He swallowed a handful of pills and washed them down with the bourbon. Then Keith got completely undressed, walked across the hall to the bathroom and filled the tub with water. Taking another really large swig from the bottle of bourbon, Keith then sat down in the tub, picked up a knife and slit his wrists lengthwise up his arms. Blood was squirting from his wounds with every beat of his heart, staining the clear water in the tub. Keith leaned back in the tub and slowly the blood stopped squirting. Keith didn't move again. The last image I saw was of John waking in the night to go to the bathroom and discovering Keith's lifeless body before I fell against the wall sobbing hysterically.

"There's more." Keith said.

I screamed, "I don't care! Do you understand? I just don't give a fuck! Why did you show me this? How could you do this?"

Just barely above a whisper, Keith said, "Because you need to accept what's happened. Your mom's gone. It was no one's fault. It was just a bad accident on a rainy day. I'm gone too through no one's fault but my own. You caused none of this."

For the first time I looked at his face and he didn't look away. His skin was ash gray and his eyes had lost their sparkle but this was Keith. My heart still bounced in my chest and my skin crawled, not with fear but longing for his touch. He's a freaking corpse and I still love him more than anything or anyone in the world.

I'm insane. That must be it. Years of abuse and loneliness, a lost friendship, other friendships that never got started, one that came along one day and liked me for no particular reason and we fell in love. I had the best summer of my life doing all the things I enjoy and things I've always wanted to do. Then my mom died, my dad moved me back to Texas for more emotional and physical abuse and I've lost it.

Keith chuckled, "Your not insane, Prez."

"How'd you know what I was thinking?"

Keith shrugged, "Same as always, by looking in your eyes." He paused for a moment. "Being a spirit has a few advantages too." Keith said making the same mischievously playful look he did on the first night we met. The eyes were different but the nod of his head and the smirk on his face had me radiating anticipation.

Keith stood up and said, "Come on."

I would follow him anywhere but I started to get scared again as we walked down the hall. I reached forward to get his attention and got zapped hard enough to knock me back a few paces.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Stunned, it took me a few seconds to reply, "Yeah, but that fucking hurt!"

"We're not allowed to touch," Keith explained. "I should've told you about that."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I probably would've tried it at some point anyway."

"I know baby, I've been begging them to let me touch you just once more."

We started back down the hall again to the stairway. "Keith, I have to ask. Why did you do it? We talked about it, you said you'd never go down that path again."

"I know, Prez. What can I say? I'm weak, always have been. You gave me the strength to do things I was never able to do before. When you left I couldn't tell anyone how bad it hurt. After our first week together I was hopelessly, madly in love with you. Being separated after three of the best months of my life, I was lost. I couldn't eat or sleep or think. I tried to be strong, like when you were around, like you would be."

"I'm not the strong one." I quipped.

"Yeah you are, Prez. What took me a long time to figure out and accept you just accepted and took immediate action. I was so amazed that you accepted your sexuality so easily and came out to your mom. From that point on I gave myself to you."

"I was walking a fine line anyway," I said. "Our first kiss at the beach and those few minutes silently holding each other clinched it for me. I don't think anyone will ever make me feel as great as you do… did."

As we walked into the stairwell together Keith said, "We'll be together again someday. I wish it could be soon but they won't tell me that either. It's time for you to go now." He pointed up the stairs and I saw the bracelet I had given him on his wrist.

The last thing I wanted to do was leave him. "What if I don't want to? If I have to go back to my dad I'd rather stay here with you."

"I know baby and I want you here so much but it's not your time. You've got other things to do. You'll do great too. They promised me that so I could promise you. Whenever you need me, I'll be right here," Keith said pointing at my heart without touching me then he backed away into the shadows. "Go ahead up the stairs Preston. I love you."

I took one step back asking, "Will you be safe and happy Keith?" Tears welled up in my eyes again.

"I'm safe Prez. The love I have for you keeps me safe and happy. Someday, when we're together again, I'll really be in heaven. Until forever you've always got the best part of me with you." He pointed at the bracelet.

I sobbed, "I love you too, Keith. I always will." Then I turned and walked up the staircase. I could barely see his outline as he disappeared back into the darkness. Flight after flight I walked up. Going back to my dad was the fate I was to expect. My mom was gone; there would be no one to interfere. Would three months of living a different life be enough to keep me strong? I never saw a doorway and kept walking, getting more and more tired as I climbed. Keith had found it impossible to live without me. It was a bittersweet thought. Why did he come to love me so much that he ended his life? I didn't like that idea at all. There was so much more I might have asked him. I focused down at the stairs until I got to a landing and looked for a door. "Where the hell am I, in the freaking Sears Tower?" I wondered as I reached the point of complete exhaustion. Collapsing at the next landing, I could only hear Keith's voice in the back of my mind repeatedly saying, "Don't worry baby, everything gonna be alright."

 

---

 

"Get up and piss the world's on fire you lazy bastard," he shouted.

My eyes opened inside a car looking out a window. "Ah fuck, I am in Texas," I thought recognizing my surroundings.

He opened his car door and was coming around to my side of the car. Opening the car door, I stepped outside into the light rain.

"You'll move on your own now? It's about fucking time." My father commented looking annoyed and surprised at the same time.

He waited for me to close the car door but I looked around at my old house. It's a fine house but it wasn't my home. "How long have I been out of it?" I wondered. Keith said a month.

"Are you just gonna stand there? Let's go inside, I'm getting wet. Or do I have to lead you like a dog on a leash still?" My father said.

I closed the car door firmly, holding the door handle all the way as I closed it. I didn't want him to believe I was annoyed or scared. I knew my old man. If that door closed just a little too hard he would have a fit as if I was doing serious harm to his baby. I walked slowly up to him. He turned around and walked up the steps to the front door and I followed.

"That's the last time I pick your ass up at the sheriff's office," he said unlocking the front door. He stepped inside, turned around and waited for me to go in and close the door behind me.

I kept thinking, "Don't provoke him what ever you do."

"The next time they can keep you and do what they will with you." He said.

We just stood there watching each other for a moment. God forgive me, I do not trust this man. What's he gonna do and when?

"Can you speak?"

He waited for my reply.

"Yes, Sir." I said in a monotone voice.

"I'll be damned. The mummy speaks. It's about time. It was time four fucking weeks ago. Christ!"

I looked around the living room but stayed perfectly motionless with my hands in my jacket pockets. There was a safe distance between us. The clock read 4:30. Must be afternoon. Everything seemed to be in its place except the pictures on the mantle. Now there was a model ship there. My mom took the pictures to California with us, I remembered.

"Mom?" I asked.

He didn't wait a second. "Dead. How much do you remember?"

"Practically nothing." All I knew is what Keith told me. I was afraid to find out the difference between dreams and reality now.

He sneered and made a hissing sort of perturbed laugh. "Un-fucking-believeable." He turned to walk into the dining room and then he stopped and looked at me for a few seconds. "You're not gonna run away again. Get your ass in here and take your jacket off."

"Yes, Sir." I said in a monotone voice, took my jacket off and hung it on the coat rack. He watched every move I made and waited for me on the other end of the dining room before the kitchen entryway.

"Get a move on," he said. "I guess you have some questions. I have a few for you. We can talk while I make dinner."

Speech is an interesting concept with my dad. Anything he could reply to with grunts he would.

I walked towards him and he turned and stepped into the kitchen turning on the over head lights. "Mom died in a car accident?" I asked.

"Mmm," he grunted yes. One grunt for yes, two grunts for no.

"What day is it?" I asked.

He turned his head, looked at me and sneered in disbelief. He opened the refrigerator and started taking out various items while he talked. "Bet you don't know the date either." He waited for my reply and I shook my head no. "Sunday, November 16th, 1997. You cried like a big sissy Mary the day of the funeral. For the last four weeks you've been little more than a zombie. It was a week before you ate anything."

I guess I wasn't supposed to cry at my mother's funeral. I could just stand there like a stone, as I'm sure he probably did. I think not! That sissy remark didn't sit well with me at all. "Here we go again," I thought, "I'm never man enough, nothing I do is ever good enough."

"Where the hell has your head been at boy?" He asked, sounding very annoyed. He didn't even look my way for an answer. "The first three days here you couldn't even control your bodily functions. You wouldn't even dress yourself for a week!" He was slamming stuff around on the counter loudly with each sentence. Each bang of the jars made my heart jump and my eyes blink.

I got more nervous. He was going to lose it. The question always was, when? I stood at the entryway between the kitchen and dining room listening to his ranting. One thing I knew is that I should always allow myself an escape, somewhere to run to if he would start swinging. I wanted to tell him I didn't want to be here. That Texas wasn't the problem. The lack of good friends and his heartless, uncaring way was the problem. I couldn't say that though.

"WELL?" He shouted.

Be overly polite. Don't stress him out. "I'm sorry, I have no recollection of anything." I said softly.

He sat at the kitchen table and started to eat his sandwich then he got up, got a Coors Light from the fridge and returned to his dinner. When my stomach growled I knew it had been a very long time since I had eaten, I just didn't know when exactly. It was a loud growl. He must've heard it but didn't say a word. He took another bite of his sandwich and washed it down with a big gulp of beer. I wasn't even sure that I could walk past him to fix myself a sandwich so I stayed standing in the entryway while he ate. It was the hurried way he was eating and drinking that frightened me most, like he had something else to do. What else he had to do scared the shit out of me.

I lived here once, not too long ago and I didn't feel comfortable fixing myself a bite to eat. I imagined myself coming here after school and barely able to open the front door. I would come inside with the mail like I always did. It was my job to sort the real mail from the flyers and junk mail, like a good little monkey. Then I'd go straight to my room.

Part of my weekends would be spent right here, maintaining his lawn. The lawn that no animal or person was even meant to walk upon. God forbid a stray dog came by and pissed on it! I've seen him freak out because of that. He said I had run away and made it sound like I had more than once. His priorities just didn't seem fully baked to me. I noticed the condition of the house when I came inside. Everything was in its proper place. Things he cared for, like his home, lawn and furniture but not people. It was then that I recognized this was never and would never be home.

I wondered what was in my room. Was there my bed from California? What about my bass, amp, stereo and PC? I thought back to the puddle in my dream. I was crying, making a scene running from room to room wanting to keep things but being told no. That's why he hit me. Things of ours that I wanted to keep, he had no use for. I couldn't remember anything. I wanted things that were my mom's. Do I have any of her CD's? Do I have something of her's, like jewelry? I wanted the pictures of the three of us in what seemed to be happier times when I was much younger. I wanted so much to remember, my skull was splitting with the effort. Nothing was recalled. No wakes, no funeral, no packing to leave for Texas. Did I say goodbye to anyone before I left? Not a fucking clue!

He finished eating, got up clearing his dishes and got a fresh brew from the fridge. Popping the can open he asked, "You have nothing to say?"

I had to speak but was walking on eggs the whole time. "I was just thinking," I said, "I honestly don't remember anything. It's all gone from the night before I went to school that day. I remember kissing her goodnight, going to my room and organizing a few things. I set my clock radio snooze and went to bed. The next thing I know I'm in your car in the driveway."

In a thoroughly disgusted tone he said, "You've been a real barrel of laughs the last few weeks boy. I had you to the doctor and was fixin' to take you back tomorrow. You were a robot at best, not a word out of your mouth since I belted ya one for being a pansy ass while we packed."

"I don't know what I packed dad," I said. "I know where my room is but I have no idea what's in there." I paused for a second to control myself but my voice still wavered, "Did I say goodbye to anyone before I left?"

"You stayed with the Hundser's against my better judgement until the morning we left. Another lovely scene was made there that day. Mr. and Mrs. Hundser and I had words. I stuffed you into the car and we went to the airport. Nothing but crying the whole way to the airport and on the flight. You were an embarrassment."

I didn't want to hear anymore of this and I could see that remembering was pissing him off so I said, "I'm really sorry. Can I please be excused? I'd like to check my room now that I'm really here and all."

"Don't ya want to eat?" He asked.

"Later if that's ok? I've got a lot to catch up on. Maybe we could take it in small doses?"

He nodded and grunted in the affirmative.

I turned, grabbed my jacket off the rack and walked back to my room. Whew! Nothing in my room was going to be as scary as being within ten feet of him. At any point there he could've lost it. Now he's pumping beers. With luck he'll just pass out.

In my room I found all my stuff accounted for. Things were arranged just as I might have arranged them consciously. All the photographs were now on my dresser and hanging on my wall. Looking at each one, I cried harder and harder. Me sitting between my parents smiling at age five. Why couldn't we have stayed like this picture? "Mom is gone now," ricocheted around my skull. I went on a search for her stuff. I found her jewelry box and looked through it. I found her baseball cap and the Elton John CD we danced to but nothing else. These photographs and trinkets were all I took. All he would let me take. I sat on the bed looking at the room. Everything here in this bedroom was so perfect. This is where my memories and life are now. I would find a way to call the Hundser's. I had to know if Keith was okay. The picture of Keith and me at our birthday party was on my nightstand. I curled up in a ball on my bed and wailed into my pillow. Keith is okay. He HAS to be. God, please let him be okay. I miss you so much babe, please be okay. I'll find a way to get back to you. I swear to Christ I will. No matter how long it takes, my life is with you.

 

---

 

The bed moved.

It moved again.

EARTHQUAKE!

No, not an earthquake.

The bed moved again. I turned my head slowly and looked around. The bed moved again.

"Get. Up." He slurred.

I sat up.

"You call yourself a man? You think you can take me?"

"No dad"

"You think you're big enough to take me on?"

"No dad honest."

He kicked the bed and screamed, "GET! UP!"

He came towards me and I quickly shuffled off of the other side of the bed and on to the floor screaming.

 

---

 

No one here.

It's dark.

Where am I?

Whispering. I could hear whispering. The door opened slowly and light beamed in the room.

A woman's voice, "Preston? Are you okay sweatheart?"

It took me a while to respond I was shaking so badly. "Uh huh" I said.

"It's okay sweetheart," the shadowy woman said and took one cautious step in to the room. I couldn't think. All I could do was sit there on the floor, huddled in the corner, shaking like a leaf. "I'm going to turn on the light, okay?" She asked.

"Uh huh"

The lights came on and burned my eyes as I looked around the room recognizing where I was, nervously catching every detail. Mrs. Hundser stood in the doorway with Keith standing right behind her, crying into his hands. I cried and cried for a very long time. The door closed.  Mrs. Hundser and Keith helped me up onto the bed, still crying. I remembered the reality of it all, being pulled from class on Friday and driven to the hospital by a county sheriff, calling Keith from the hospital, spending all day Saturday there and finally leaving the hospital after she passed away in the early afternoon on Sunday.

I had to go to the bathroom so bad! I was crying that hard! I couldn't say a word. Weakened and shaking, I could barely stand. I started to get up and Keith helped me all the way into the bathroom. I couldn't stand, I had to sit to pee! I started to laugh at myself and looked over at Keith, his face covered with concern. I swear I must've sat on the thrown a good five minutes laughing and crying back and forth until I leaned back and sighed, thoroughly exhausted.

Keith came over and put his hand on my shoulder. "You want me to leave?" He asked in a soft quivering voice.

I looked up at him and gazed into the sparkling eyes of the person I loved most. "No. I'm okay now. It was all a dream except for one thing. She's really gone." I said, and stood up. I pulled up my briefs then Keith and I walked out of the bathroom

I told Keith and the Hundser's everything about my dreams and nightmares. Keith was visibly shaken during several parts and wiped tears from his eyes while I talked.

The next few days, during the wakes and the funeral, I was as strong as I could be publicly. Keith stayed by me whenever I wanted him to, even when I took my time alone in the bathroom or viewing my mother. There were, believe it or not, times where I didn't want to be with any one. I guess that was my way of dealing with it. I just wanted my mom back and no one else would suffice during those times. When I was done mourning though, I had a family right there ready with kind words and support. One weak, strained smile from Keith and my heart would open again.

My father never came to the funeral. I had one other discussion with him on the phone the end of that first week living with Hundser's. It wasn't really a discussion, per say. I dialed his number and he answered, "Yeah!"

"Dad. It's Preston."

"Yeah."

"I never want to see you or hear from you again." I stated calmly and simply.

He said nothing.

"Goodbye." I said. I looked over at Keith and the Hundser's and smiled as I hung up the phone. He hurt me. He always did as far back as I could remember. Even good times seemed to be stained with bad memories of him. From that phone call forward, he no longer existed.

I had till the end of October to get the apartment emptied out. I talked with the Hunder's about everything, sold what I had to and kept the rest. In doing this task I remembered my mom and how she was. Loving and loved. She would make little efforts all the time. That's what I do every chance I get. Every day is a new fresh start, just as she always liked it. That's what I kept remembering as I did the tedious, heart-wrenching chores that needed to be finished. The sooner I got them over with, the quicker I would have a day I could look forward to. My mom once asked me, "How can you spend an entire day in a bad mood? You can be content, happy, glad, sorry or any other way. Can you paint a smile on your face and be glad all day? Then why be glum?" That part of my mom is part of me, to the very best of my ability, every day and everywhere I go. When I finished my business at the apartment, everyday I made a point of walking back to the Hundser's. It gave me the time I needed to walk in their home and be a part of the household.

The day we locked up the apartment and handed in the key was bad. It was the end of a chapter in my life. I told Keith how I was feeling that afternoon and night. The loss was tremendous. There are so many opportunities my mom and I would never have. We lived together alone for such a short time but the only person that matched her in my heart was Keith. He listened to me quietly and patiently. At night he would hold me in his arms, making me feel warm and safe when I needed it most.

There was so much homework and schoolwork I had missed over the course of two weeks. I asked the Hunder's if I could  spend the last two days of that last week just getting caught up on it all. Between those days and the weekend I was pretty much covered except for the lectures I had missed. The afternoon Mike and Derrick came over was a good turning point. It's a blur but I think it was the day after I locked the apartment. The music was playing and the books were out but everything just fell right back into place as it always had before. Conversation started slowly but once we got into our familiar places doing familiar things we talked and goofed around just like always.

Three weeks after my mother died, on that Sunday morning I woke up very early. I watched Keith sleeping. Right by his side is where I belong. It's where I want to be more than anything else in this world. He's told me how I saved him before. Having him and his family has saved me in countless ways. I've even called Mr. Hundser "dad" on a few occasions. That man has more inner strength than anyone I've ever known or may ever know. Mrs. Hundser is the greatest too but I can't call her mom, not yet anyway.

Some people may say I've been unlucky but I can't agree with them. I've been thrown some vicious curves in my life. But hasn't everyone to some extent or another? My mother's day of departure was written before she was born, I believe. Under different circumstances, I could be living a most unpleasant life but I have my boyfriend, the finest foster parents, two little brothers and two of the best friends in the world. When you consider all that, I'd have to say I'm pretty darn lucky. As soon as sleeping beauty wakes up, I intend to get luckier still.

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