Chapter One



The air was warm with a little breeze in the. I knew it was going to be a good day. Dad had woken me up early to get ready to go fishing. I crawled out of bed and into the bathroom to quickly shower. After getting dressed and brushing my hair I ran as fast as I could down stairs when i could hear the sound of bacon crackling on the stove and smell the waffles and syrup on the table. Dad always made bacon and waffles on the weekend for me because he knew they were my favorite and it was the only time dad was home to make breakfast. He worked a lot. Mom usually spent her mornings in bed or in the bathroom like usual, she didn't really leave those two rooms, so while dad was at work or I wasn't at school I would spend most my time at nanas.

Stepping out the door, a warm breeze hitting my face and running itself through my hair. Today is going to be good. Dad comes out the door after me carrying his tackle box, his tall red fishing pole and my little blue one, which was about half the size of his. He grabs my hand and were off.

About three blocks down was the bus stop at the peer. It’s the first day of summer and as tradition dad and his buddies would go fishing all day. But this year was different, this year i was finally old enough to come along. Fishing was the one thing i loved most to do with my dad we worlds it and talk for hours and catch fish, look at them for a while and throw them back. Dad never liked to keep them because he said it was never good to take someone away from their home, it’s where they belong.

As we got to the bus stop dad friends were already waiting. Uncle Tom, Jim from work and Tony i don't know how dad knows him, but i like him, he always gives me candy. It seemed like forever on the bus and dad told me it wouldn't be much longer to the peer. It was early enough in the day that it’s still dark and that only a few people were on the bus and most of them old men or women in fancy suites or work clothes.

We were getting on the boat and heading. There’s a few clouds in the sky but that’s how the mornings usually look. The sun is just beginning to rise over the buildings and hitting the water. Out of nowhere the sky gets darker and darker the black clouds fill the sky and suddenly the boat starts to shake with the sound of thunder and lightning hitting the water. The wind picks up and is rocking the boat back and forth so hard am surprised we haven't flipped yet. Uncle Tom is trying to start the boat and head back to shore but something seems to be wrong. Tony and Jim rush over to help him but where’s dad? His still strapped in the safety harness and the chair. I try and run over to him but my feet aren't moving. Run Kynlee what are you doing?! Run! The waves getting bigger, stronger the boat flips and my lungs fill with water….i can't swim…..i can't swim.

Flying forward in bed, i start coughing and gasping for air, my room begins to fill with water and is filling faster and faster. It’s up to my bed, now my neck. Pressed against the ceiling i take in my last breath of air. Next thing i know my nana comes running in. the dreams have started again….

“Sorry Nana i didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t worry about it dear i was already up, would you like a glass of water?”

“No, no water please...”

It’s been almost six years since that day. Six years.


For the past five years i have been living with my Nana, it’s been nice but i had to drop out of high school my senior year to help support her and pay the bills since she was too old and fragile to work any longer and without my grandpa there with her she never liked to be left alone.

I didn't mind leaving school, never really liked it anyway, and after that summer none of the kids ever really talked to me again. Occasionally i would get a sympathy note or someone random would come up and ask how i was doing, and like always i would reply with “better” and “thanks for asking” but i knew they really didn't care. They wouldn't unless it happened to them.

Once you stop talking to other people they turn you into an outcast, you don't have an option to start talking to them again.

Just like any other day this one started out normal. I was up at six showered, got dressed and dried my hair. I never really liked wearing any makeup so i chose not to. Nana says makeup is used to hide what's really underneath, who you really are, and that anyone you're around shouldn't like you for what's on the outside but what's on the inside and they can't do that when you put on a mask of makeup to hide it. Around seven-thirty i would wake Nana, help her into her bath, get her dressed and curl her hair. Since Nana never wore makeup either she accessorized herself with lots of big, bling jewelry, it was like her icing on the cake. For 75 you could say Nana never looked a day over 50. Every Wednesday and Friday we walked across the street to the peer and do yoga with a bunch of other old ladies that live in the community it’s supposed to only be for the elderly but Ms. Rebecca the instructor lets me come anyway.

After were both ready we head down to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I turn on the stove when I suddenly hear a loud banging at the door.
“Coming!” I yell, but the pounding gets faster and faster, louder and louder. Now rushing pull open the door not knowing who to expect. It’s her.

The scent of booze and strong alcohol ooze out of her mouth and clothes. Probably drunk, like usual. She’s holding a large white folder as she shoves past me yelling and cursing she stumbles slightly and slurs some of her words. Yup she’s drunk. She’s heading for the kitchen, towards Nana. I run in after her and see her throw the folder onto the counter.

“You’ve got three weeks to get a lawyer and be in court!”

Inching closer and closer to Nanas face i can tell Nana smells it too. Nana stands and grabs her arm and starts walking towards the front door reassuring her we will be in court, there’s nothing to worry about, and that she should probably go home and get some sleep.
She’s confused and stumbles out the door, we quickly shut it behind her and lock it tight.

That’s the first morning my mom has ever come to Nanas with paper work about the case in three years. I thought it had finally stopped, i was hoping it was finally over and she had given up.

“What do you think she’s going to try and get you for this time?” Nana asks as she head back to the kitchen. She picks of the folder and starts to examine its contents.

if don’t know, i didn't think she would try again after the last trial let alone get another one.” i get quiet as Nana looks down at a piece of paper then up to me. Her face as drooped and i can tell it’s not good.
“What is it this time?!”

Nana is silent but just shakes her head and hand me the paper. My hands are trembling with fear. My mother has tried to accuse me of many things to try and get me to move (forced) back to live with her. The first year after i left she claimed i was a druggy and needed to be back home with her where i belonged so i could recover. I was fifteen. The year after she tried to blame Nana for being abusive and saying the only reason i wasn't leaving was because she was threatening to kill my mom and me if i did. I was barely sixteen. ‘Of course the judge noticed something a little off about my mom maybe it was that she was high the last day in court or that she was always trying to hide that cigarette smell. But quickly after a drug test mom was sent to rehab and has now claimed she’s a new women.


Once dad was gone mom went off the deep end. She got back into drugs, started going to the bars and clubs. I think he was the only reason she really tried to stay sober, not for me, but for him.
Three days after the accident.
I come home from school to see a large amount of black smoke coming from the back yard.
Throwing my backpack onto the lawn i run full speed to the gate and into the back yard.
My mother standing over a huge pile of all his things…

“What are you doing? Those are dads!”
I run towards my mom pushing her aside, she’s so drunk she just falls to the ground.
Hose, have to find the hose.

“Kynlee...just stop it’s too late. We have to get rid of them they're driving me crazy!” a little surprised my mom could get more than two words out i turn to her my entire body filling with rage.

“Driving YOU crazy? How could you do this? They were his! You don’t see me burning all your things just because you're gone!”

“What are you talking about? Am right here.”

“Your body might be, but whoever’s inside there is not my mother.” a large lump starts to grow in my throat and i know why, as fast as i can i swallow it down and hold back the tears.
Finally finding the hose and turn it on full blast and spray out the fire.
Almost everything was damaged or completely incinerated by the flames except a few t shirts and pants that were at the bottom of the pile. She must have dumb a whole gallon of gasoline on them, the shirts reek of petroleum. I couldn’t save much but i salvaged what i could; a few old records, the t-shirts at the bottom of the pile and his guitar…the shirts were a little wet from the gasoline but not damaged, some of the record covers were so black you had no idea what you were going to listening to until it was playing. All the strings had been burnt off his guitar and it had some black spots where it was about to be engulfed in flames. It seemed a little heavier than usual so i shook it around and hear what sounds like papers. I tip it upside down. Suddenly pictures, letters and newspaper clips were falling out. They were all pictures of my mom and dad while they were dating, of their wedding and when they first had me. Some were from dad childhood and when he was serving in the military.
Why would she want to get rid of these? These were all his memories and ours...
That is when i first moved in with Nana.