6 a.m. in the morning the next day


“HEY!” MY dad yelled and woke me up; he was standing right in my doorway. I yawned,


“Yeah…?” and stretched my arms over my head. Dang, he never woke me up this early. HE actually never woke me up at all.


“Pack as much as you can fit in the truck in less that an hour, we’re moving to a city called Rainer.” He just stared at me and started to turn away, but I yelled,


“WAIT!” and he turned back around and crossed his arms.


“What, Liam? I have a lot of things to do befo…” I interrupted him,


“I was just going to ask why we are moving to that huge city?” I told him.

Rainer was a huge city about an hour drives away from this small town of Smallville. It was a pretty big city; it had a population of over 900,000. I still don’t understand why my parents want to move so badly. Well, I don’t even want to call them my parents, I want to call them the people I have been living with for the past 15 years of my life who just provide me with a roof to live under who became strangers to me 5 years ago. Yeah…


Ronald sighed and walked over to sit down on the end table next to Liam’s small bed in his tiny room.


“Listen kid,” he begun, “Your mom and I have been getting into a lot of trouble lately, and we just want to get away from small town cops.”

“But…” I started, “Won’t there be more police in Rainer?”

He pounded his fist on the wall, “No duh there will be, but they won’t even know who we are. They will just think that we are normal people living in a normal big city.”

And with that he stomped out the door.
What’s funny is that I haven’t spoken to him in 2 months.
















~~~


So I packed all my prized possessions and some clothes. I packed the broken family picture that my parents took with me when I was about 3 years old. My dad broke that because he was in his depressed cycle and he always broke things back then, I was about 9 years old when he broke the frame on the front of the picture, but I still kept it because it brings back good memories. I also brought the baseball my dad and I use to play with all the time when I was little, about 4 years old. We always use to play with it all the time. I also brought my books, which named the million stories of either the poor unfortunate souls or the rich freaks or neither. Either was I couldn’t survive without the million words. Other than that I just packed my clothes, except for the ones I didn’t fit anymore or were too big for me and a few other things.

About an hour later, I have packed all my stuff I needed into my small suitcase I had but never used anymore. I had thought about running away, so that’s why I kept it. I should have thrown it away after my parents stopped going on trips in the summer with me. I still always wonder why they pretty much abandoned me, neglected me. But one thing I can’t wait for is when I graduate and get away from them. I also had breakfast within that hour, and cleaned of the posters on my wall. Most of them were my favorite bands like My Chemical Romance, Alesana, and Three Days Grace. I also packed them, because one thing I know is that I can’t live without my music or my bands, so that’s why I mowed enough of my neighbors lawns to save up for my own laptop, which my parents don’t know I have, otherwise they would probably take that from me too like they did my MP3 player when I was 11 years old. I put that at the bottom of my bag.


“LIAM!” I heard my mother yell; wow she hasn’t talked to me in a while.


I ran downstairs with my bag in my hand, and beyond that, the front door was open and the car was running. Both of my parents were in there so I ran to the car bringing my bag with me. My father speeded off and I never saw that house again.
















~~~

I guess I ended up falling asleep somewhere on the ride, because the last thing I remember was us speeding out of Smallville onto the highway by Atlantic. It was bright and early in the morning, too. Now it’s about noon and the car is stopped in front of this large apartment building that was somewhat in the middle of crappy looking and being elegant. I smelled salt and ended up stretching and looked behind me to just have plain sight of a beach, ocean water and people in bikinis and swimming trunks. It was the Pacific Ocean, I knew, but again by the water? Okay, whatever, it was my parents’ choice of where we lived. By the way, I just realized my parents were no where to be found. Then I found a sticky note on the passenger seat in front of me. It read:

“We live in apt. 102. Get your stuff and come up. –R & L.”


Nice, they put their initials. Even greater, no “Love you” or anything. That’s awesome; I bet their hearts turned to stone sometime around when I was 11.


I stretched once again, grabbed my bag opened the door to the blue Chevy and ran to the apartment building’s door. But I stopped mid way in my tracks, because I just realized how beautiful the side of this beach was. Alongside it was a lot of apartment buildings and a beach walk and what not, but right next to this one, there was a beautiful building covered in green vines, and had red stone. It had a black door, and above that door read “Rainer Art Museum and Studio.” I really needed to check that out sometime, it sounded fun.

I turned back around, heading inside to check out the map of the place at the front entrance. On the way there an old lady yelled at me for being too loud. Ha-ha. Me… I am too loud? That’s impossible. Also a girl I bumped into who was heading her way downstairs with very shiny red hair and big pretty brown eyes and freckles- she was about my age and just smiled at me and said hi. I guess I was too shy, because I blushed but didn’t say anything back to her.


I stopped in front of door 102 on the 2nd floor. It was really truly quiet in there. Well that’s weird; it was never quiet in my house. I quietly creaked open the door, and peeked inside. I saw my dad sitting on a new couch with his legs open and his elbows were on his knees, also his hands were in his face. This could be my chance…


“Hey…dad? Are you okay?” I asked him, while quietly walking towards him.

He didn’t answer for a second, then he replied,

“They t-took her a-away, Liam. T-they took her…” He was crying… He never cried.

I ran over to him and sat next to him on the couch. I think I knew what happened but I wasn’t sure…

“Who took who away?” I asked with concern.
“They…took…your m-mom. The friggen police found us. They knew Th-that she did all that...You know, I tried t-to tell them that I-I d-d-did that, but they never listened. ” He told me. Then he started to scream, cry, and swear about Alexander, the guy who suggested we live in this city.

I just walked silently to the back of the house and walked into the door which was my room I already knew, and sat down on the bed that was already there even if I didn’t know how it got there and sat there forever it seemed like. I didn’t know it would hurt this bad for my mother to get sent away, it’s not like she would care if I ever did. But I don’t know anything anymore…

The next few days passed by in a blur, all I remember is unpacking my stuff and putting them in my closet or dressers that were already there, which I forgot to ask my father why. But I couldn’t really, because most of the day he sat in his room and I could hear him always crying and talking to himself saying things that I couldn’t hear usually, but I heard some strands of what he was saying which was…”die...” “Nothing… for anymore…” “Shallow dreams…” “Help…” “I can’t…on my own”

I tried talking to him, but he never replied whenever I tried. Kind of like what it use to be anyway, but he was crying all the time instead of partying. I decided to grab my dad’s credit card to get some internet service, phone and television. Maybe he would come out for that?

The next day everything got hooked up for only a hundred dollars a month. That’s a great deal actually. The cable for the television came with a media center and a boom box. So I tried to turn on his favorite TV show, Cops, but he never came out. I tried putting on his favorite songs, which are pop, and never came out. That’s when I gave up on trying getting him out of that dumb room myself. I grabbed the phone book that just came in the mail and flipped to “family therapist.” Maybe that would work. So I dialed the number, and a lady answered with a really smooth voice.


“This is Rainer Family Therapy, my name is Therese, and may I help you?” the woman asked.


“Um, yes… Therese. My dad isn’t get out of his room to do anything at all. Well, he usually does this but it’s different because he’s been crying and thinking suicidal thoughts because my mom was taken away to rehab.” I confessed to Therese.

She was silent for a moment, “So he won’t get out of room?” She asked.

“No…”

She sighed, “Well I’m sorry to hear that. I’m going to transfer you to one of our therapist who could probably help you with that.” Then the line went dead and then it started to ring a different number.

“Hello,” A mid-aged woman answer, “My name is Dr. Way. May I help you?”

I told her my name and repeated what happened with my dad.

“Well, what’s your address?” Dr. Way asked me.

“What?” I asked confused.

“You want me to help you dad don’t you?” She answered.

“”Yeah, well one sec.” I replied, and ran down to the mail box in the front lobby to check the address of my place.

“Okay, I’m back. The address is 10002 Ocean View Road, apartment 102.” I was out of breath practically.

“Okay, I’ll be there in about 20 minutes. It’s a long drive across half of the city.” Dr. Way laughed.















~~~


Exactly 20 minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I walked over and peeked through the peephole on the door. There was a slim looking tall blonde woman with her hair in a bun, and she had black rimmed glasses and blue eyes. She was wearing a blue suit with a red and white striped tie. She looked about 28 years old. She was about to knock again, but I swung open the door.

She held out her hand, “Liam Winsky? I’m Dr. Way.”

I took her hand and it was really warm and then I let it go.

“So Dr. Way, what to do now?” I asked her.

She stepped through the doorway, “Let me see your father.”

I led her through the hallway with the walls full of nothing, because I didn’t get to decorating them yet. I slightly opened my dads’ door.

“Dad…? There’s someone here to see you.” I told him quietly.

“Go away.” He said simply.

Dr. Way walked through the door towards the bed where my dad was sitting on with his head in his hands. He looked up, and his eyes were blood shot and it looks like he hadn’t showered in forever, or shave.

“Ronald? My name is Dr. Way. Can I talk to you for a minute?” She asked my dad.

He didn’t reply but he just got up for the first time I’ve seen him in forever, and walk towards the window and just stared blankly at the blinds covering the window.

“Liam, we need to get new curtains.” He told me.

Dr. Way looked at me, “Yeah, dad.” I replied.

Dr. Way cleared her throat, “Ronald?”

My dad still didn’t look at her.

She tried again, “Ronald, I’m going to tell you that your wife will not be in rehab forever.” She told my dad.

He finally looked at her, and started to cry, “I don’t…” he swore, “Love her. I love you…” He started walking towards her with a crazy look on his face. Then he glanced at me quickly,
“Run, Liam, run.” He shouted and laughed with not much hysteria.

I sprinted out of that apartment building crying. What was wrong with my dad?
I ran as far as I could possibly go, and I didn’t know where I was but I didn’t care.
I could hear Dr. Way screaming.
I let my feet go and kicked as hard as I could into the brick wall. It stung…
It was 8 o’clock p.m. I had to leave at least for the night.
I started bawling my eyes out and swearing at myself for being such an idiot for letting someone come over…especially a girl. My dad was probably never going to get better.
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my black t-shirt and flipped my black hair so that it was covering my eyes. I didn’t want anyone to guess that something was wrong with me. Is it me that made my dad like this? No…it couldn’t be. All I know is that I am depressed to the limit.

I walked into the general store that was right next to where I was standing, except it was in the light and I was in the dark alleyway.

The next thing I knew I was walking out with a razor blade, a notebook and pencil.

I know I shouldn’t do this but I have a reason to… My conscience was getting in a fight with itself.

Then I just did it…I held onto the blade with fury, and just started to dig into my wrist and bawl my eyes out. This pain felt like it was releasing my inner fury. I know this isn’t healthy but I just can’t stand it. I felt the red crimson blood dripping from wrists and dropping like tiny teardrops to the cold, hard cement. It felt so good but at the same time it was so painful. I felt terrible but at the same time so good! It was so confusing, how these emotions mixed…but I guess that’s how I am….mixed up on the inside…I just sat there for a while and wiped my tears away, and I walked back to the general store leaving my stuff hidden in the dark shadows of the alleyway. I walked back to the bathroom with no look at anyone. I didn’t care what they thought of me, I didn’t care if they thought I was a terrorist or anything. IT DOESN’T MATTER!
I locked the door and quietly walked to the mirror. I looked like crap; my black hair was all tangled in a mess. My black destroyed skinny jeans were even more destroyed from falling and running and having my tears drip onto them. My black ACDC t-shirt was practically ruined and covered in dirt. My eyes were so bloodshot I couldn’t tell how long I’ve been crying. There were red circles around them, and bags underneath…
I’m sorry, customers. The general store will be closing in 10 minutes. Thank you for your convenience. The loudspeaker echoed.
I walked back into the store and picked up a few outfits for a few days of being away from home.

I spent a couple of nights sheltered in an alleyway, hidden from everyone but myself, just writing and cutting. That’s all I did the next 3 days, but I got some food once in a while. I didn’t care what people did about me when they saw me. I didn’t care at all.
















~~~

I walked back home on the 4th morning of me being gone. I wonder if my dad even noticed if I was gone…I bet I was just a shadow in his day.
At the apartment, I squeaked open the door slowly, and the house was a total mess. What the hell did my dad do these last 3 days? Everything was everywhere, no matter where it was from. I walked back to my room, and stuffed my notebook in my bottom drawer, then walked back to my dad’s room. I opened the door, and he was just sitting on the bed, staring at the wall blankly.

“Where the…” he swore, “Have you been?” He asked me.

“It’s not like you would care anyway!” I almost screamed with tears running down my face.

He got up angrily from his bed, and started heading towards me with his fist in the air,

“YOU THINK I DON’T CARE? WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” He demanded.

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO KNOW!” I screamed.

“I’M YOU’RE PARENT! OF COURSE I WOULD WANT TO KNOW!” He shouted.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO DR. WAY???” I cried.

“Ha-ha-ha. She’s gone now.” He told me with an evil grin on his face, “And so are you.”

He punched me in the face and I fell to the ground wailing,

“Don’t…” he swore again, “Do that again. Oh, wait, you won’t be able to because you’ll be dead.” He hit me again and I felt the blood rushing towards where he hit me.

I tried to get up, but I couldn’t feel anything,
He lifted my arm up and stared at my wrist.

“WHAT THE…?” He swore, again. “What DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? YOU DO WANT TO DIE DON’T YOU?”

I swore at him, “No! It just gets rid of my pain…” I cried.

“Well, you won’t have pain anymore after I’m done with you.”

He got up and started to kick me…everywhere, and I felt more pain then I ever had in my lifetime.

I woke up in a hospital bed, it seemed like I couldn’t feel anything. I tried to get up, but I couldn’t move at all. I glimpsed down at my wrist, which was wrapped up. Maybe they thought my dad did that… Or not? I wonder what happened between all of this.

I looked at a note next to my very comfortable hospital bed, It said:

Nurse Gomez will be in here soon
@ 5:00 PM

Well, I looked up at the clock which said 4:47 PM. So I just passed the time by staring at the blank TV screen. I didn’t feel like doing anything at this moment.
About 17 minutes later, a young lady walked in that looked about 21 years old. She was wearing blue scrubs and had short lengthened black hair and blue eyes. She was very decent looking and fair skinned.

“Hey there, kiddo. I’m Nurse Gomez, and do you know why you’re here?” she asked me.

“Not really, I can’t remember anything except for my dad beating me.” I confessed.

She sighed, “Yes, I know. I’m very sorry about that, but do you know what happened after you passed out supposedly?”

I’m confused, “What?”

“The police found your father dead on the porch of your apartment. There was a shotgun lying right next to him, and he got shot in the heart. I’m so sorry.” She told me, “But he was the one who beat you, correct?”

I spit words out even if I hurt on the inside and out, “Yeah, I would know my dad from others…”
“Well, I’m so sorry, again. But you’ll have to stay in here for a few days. The social services will be visiting you sometime tomorrow, because your mom is in rehab, right?” She asked.

Another shot in the heart it felt like.

I didn’t answer; I just stared blankly at the wall behind her. Nurse Gomez walked out of the room, because I think she knew about my internal pain, I’m damaged from the inside and the out. I don’t know why I was hurting so bad, my heart felt like it had a crack in it and was about to break open any moment. I didn’t think I cared for my parents this deeply, but I knew that they don’t care for me at all. But my dad is dead, and I won’t see my mom for a long time. What did I do to deserve this life?














~~~


The next day…

There was a knock at my door, and a few ladies came in with Nurse Gomez. The one in the middle had short black hair, and brown eyes. She looked about 24 years old, and she was very pretty. The one on the right side of her had long blonde hair tucked into a ponytail, and blue eyes, she looked the same age as the one in the middle. The last woman on the left side of her had red curly medium length hair, and blue eyes and she looked around 30 years old. They were all wearing suits. Another man came in from behind them that wall tall, African-American gut with sunglasses and was wearing a suit, too. They looked very business like, and I wondered for a second if they came in the wrong room, but then I saw the black-haired girls name tag. Jennifer Jamison- Social Worker.
“Hey Liam!” The black haired woman exclaimed, “My name’s Jennifer Jamison and I’ll be your social worker until your mother gets out of rehab. Right now, I’m going to place you into a boy’s home tomorrow until we find you a good set of foster parents. I know that you have done nothing bad, but it’s just for a night or two. Okay?” She asked me.

“Uh, okay…” I replied. I had no emotions glued to me right now.

“Okay! Oh, by the way…” She signaled at the blonde woman, “This is your guardian ad Litem. Her name is Amber Roberts. She will be there for you when you need anything, or need someone to talk to! So…she will give you her number tomorrow when we bring you to the home.”

She waited for me to respond, “Okay.” I did.

She signaled at the red-head woman, “This is Elise Powers; she will be your boys home guardian.” Elise smiled at me.

“Okay.” I simply replied again.

“Okay! Well, that’s all for now. But can you fill out this form for me?” She handed me a clipboard with a few pages on it and a pen. These were just questions asking about my personality and what not.

After a minute of filling it out with the correct answers, I gave it back to her.

“Alright, kiddo. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow! Get better…” She had a concern look in her eyes.
They walked out of the door.















~~~

The next day, I felt about 85% better than I was when I came here. So later that day, I was brought to that boys home. It really sucked, and all the boys made fun of me because of the way I dressed and whatever. What are they talking about? They are dressed like wanna-be-gangsters. They are the ones who cause trouble, not me. Well…except one,

“What are you talking about? You guys are all posers. HAHA!” I exclaimed to the wanna-be’s.

Then they all looked at me with anger and one of them took out a knife from his pocket.

“Who you calling wanna-be, you emo?” He asked me in a Mexican accent, but he wasn’t.

“You and them.” I told him, staring at the knife. I didn’t care if people called me Goth or emo anymore. I don’t care what people think of me.

They all started to run towards me with anger, and I ran away from them into the guardian’s office.

Elise came out and there they were all, and they actually all got sent to juvenile. But before they left, I yelled, “VIOLENCE ISN’T THE ANSWER!” I laughed and rolled on the ground, because they were the ones always trying to start a fight except for that one time when I did. And this was all in a day, and at the end of the day I was the only boy left in the home.

I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I kept thinking of my dad and what he did to me and what happened. Why did he kill himself? My mom was coming back soon, wasn’t she? I’m going to ask Jennifer when I can visit my mom, if I could.

The next morning was my birthday and Jennifer; my social worker came to pick me up with Amber, the Guardian ad Litem. Right after I got into the small red car, Amber gave me a card with her office and cell phone on it. Jennifer looked at me,

“Hey there, sprout,” She smiled,

“Don’t call me sprout, or kiddo. My…name…is…Liam. Got it?” I asked.

She looked at me with surprise and frustration crossing over her face.
“Okay, Liam. Your new home will be with the Oliver’s’. Your foster mothers name is Angela, your foster fathers name is Timothy. They also have 3 teenagers, Georgia, Louisiana, and Michigan.” Oh, how great... More people… Damn, I just want to be alone…

“…You got it?” She asked in the midst of my thoughts.

“Oh, o-Kay. Y-yeah…” I told her confused.

“Okay, let’s go.” She said, and she started driving through the pretty city of Rainer.

I didn’t want to tell anyone it was my birthday, I hated celebration. But now, I’m 15 years old. Going into high school in the fall, oh, great, that reminds me…big city equals big schools. Damn, that’s just my luck.

We started to pull into a rich sort of neighborhood that I didn’t know where it was, are we still in Rainer? Because I’d be cool with it if I lived at least in a suburb, with smaller schools.

“Want to know your new address?” Jennifer asked me.

“Sure. All of it please.” I responded.

She told me I will be living at 99907 Richmond Drive. And of course, it is in Rainer. It’s actually closer to my old apartment then I thought it was… It’s only about 4 blocks away from there.

We pulled into the driveway of a huge gray stoned house, with big glass windows and it looked like a 4 car garage on the side.

“This is your new home, for the time being.” Jennifer told me.

“Wow…”I responded.

“Yeah, I know.” She said.
“Hey, Jennifer?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“When can I visit my mom?” I asked her.

She was silent for a moment, “I’ll arrange for that by next week” She finally told me.

I opened the door and got out, but stopped and asked Jennifer, “Wait, can I go back to the house and get my stuff?” I asked her anxiously.
A slick, black huge box-shaped van pulled in slowly behind our car,

“Already got it covered.” She told me looking at the huge van. That tall African-American guy who came with Jennifer when I first met her at the hospital got out of that huge van slowly, carrying my suitcase like it was the lightest thing in the world, which, trust me, and it’s not.

He handed the suitcase over to me without a word and smiled at Jennifer. I think he liked her, but who cares? They’re adults. I don’t even know what that big guy’s name was, but I don’t care either. I almost dropped the suitcase on my feet when he handed it to me, damn; did he pack everything in that apartment?

“Breakfast time!” Angela, my foster mom yelled from in the kitchen right below my bedroom. I flipped out of my bed, and headed down the long wooden stairwell leading to the beautiful front room of the house. I was still in my pajamas and my hair was a black mess, but I didn’t care because I was starving and today I get to visit my mom. I haven’t seen her in 3 months. I mean…I do miss her, but I don’t know if she’s gone back to what she was like before. I don’t know if she’s different though, like I said. I still cry every night about my dad, I don’t know why either, because he never really cared about me the last 5 years, and I mean, before he sh-shot himself, he beat me. Why would he do that if he did care about me? The first night I was here, I cried more than ever, and my foster dad, Timothy Oliver (I call him Tim), came into my room and asked me what’s wrong. I didn’t say anything, but I think he knew why I was crying, so he left me alone the rest of the night. So now I am always quiet when I cry every night, so no one will notice my real pain. I can’t sleep at night most of the time, so I’m always writing poems and songs. My dream is to stat a rock band someday, if I have the courage and dignity to. The only time I sing though is when I’m alone, because I’m really sensitive when people hear me singing.

I walked into the pretty glass covered kitchen-which literally had glass counters, fridge, table, and… everything. Even the glass windows were gigantic- and rubbed my head and scrunched my face. I also have headaches every morning, I just noticed that today. But this place is pretty amazing, way better than my old houses. This house smelled fresh and clean every day, with no pot smokers living in here. I’m so thankful that I get to stay here except my older foster brother, Michigan, is really mean to me when no one’s around but us. I still don’t know why I cry every night. Maybe it’s because I’m not with my parents, but why? They don’t love me…

“Hey Liam!” My foster sister, Louisiana called when I came sat down at the table next to her. Ever since I got here, she and I have clicked like we have known each other in a different life. I don’t like her any more than a sister, if that’s what you’re thinking. But yeah, over the course of two months, she and I became best friends. We know pretty much everything about each other, and do a lot of things together. She is my age, 15 and she will be going into 9th grade next year too. She has long black hair and blue eyes and she is very pretty. She likes the same bands as me too, and she has the same taste in clothes, which is black band t-shirts mostly, and skinny jeans. She and I have skateboarded this summer, when Angela and Tim bought us both one last month randomly because we always looked at skating magazines together wishing we could learn.

“Hey, Roo. We should check out that skate park today.” I told her. My nickname for her was Sana, I don’t know why but it randomly came out of no where when we were playing video games a few weeks ago. The skate park I’m talking about we just found out about yesterday at the convenience store when one of the workers there (he skateboards too,) was talking to someone about it.

“Yeah, totally.” She replied, pouring syrup on her pancakes.

Michigan, my mean foster brother who’s 16 going on 17, was just staring at me evilly. I eyed him for a moment before I decided it was childish to play those games. He kept on staring at me through the whole course of breakfast, while everyone else was chattering away about different things. I also have a younger foster sister, who’s 12 years old, her name is Georgia. She’s very quiet and smart. I know that she’s smart because, trust me, I’ve seen her last years report cards.

“Liam, you’re going to see your mom today. Your appointment with her is at 12:30 pm.” Angela told me.

“Yep, I know.” I replied. I was half way happy to see her, but also half way scared to death because I don’t even know what she’ll be like. But I guess I’ll find out when I see her today.

After breakfast, I went upstairs. I checked the clock in my room and it said 9:06 AM. I had a few hours left before I see my mom. I looked around in the huge room I have now that I once dreamed I’d have someday just a year ago. When I first came here, it was just plain white walls in a spacey room. I have a huge window that looks out to the front of the yard and it covers the whole wall there. I got huge black blinds (yes, I know, blinds not curtains) to cover them, but I haven’t closed them once since I moved into here. My walls are now painted a very bright green and I have a sunroof on the top of my ceiling. It’s really nice, because at night I can look up through it at the stars. I just got a telescope yesterday too, so I can see really well. I can close the sunroof too, because I have a remote that Tim gave to me that closes, opens, and blinds the sunroof and it’s pretty awesome. My ceiling slants at an angle though, which I don’t mind too much. It’s pretty high above the entrance to my room, but it slants down to almost my height (5’10 and counting) at the other side of my room. I have a lot of posters hanging up on my walls that are mostly big ones of my favorite bands. I’m glad that my foster parents don’t mind that I listen to hard rock music when they listen to Christian rock. Christian rock is okay, but I do love God with all my heart. Other than my parents, my foster family goes to church every Sunday morning and I like it very much.

I glanced at the clock, 9:37 AM. Man, I was standing around for a long time. I walked over to my black painted wooden dresser, and grabbed my favorite black Bring Me The Horizon band t-shirt, a pair of skinny jeans, socks, and boxers and ran to my bathroom. Yes, I have my own bathroom here! Everyone does in the house, isn’t that nice?

I took a shower, got dressed, brushed my teeth and styled my hair nice. It grew out a lot since I’ve moved here and I like it. My foster parents keep on bugging me to get a hair cut but I don’t want to. My black hair is about an inch or two below my ears now except in the front it still covers my eyes, but I trim it in the front every once in a while to keep from getting in my eyes completely. Another thing about my foster parents, they respect if I like to dress differently than the popular kids except for my hair. They don’t like my hair long, but I do.

I was bouncing my crossed legs nervously in the waiting room chair in the rehab center. This place was more different than I expected it to be, the staff was pretty friendly and it was a really clean facility.

My foster dad patted me on the leg, “It’ll all be okay, Liam.” He smiled at me.

For the first time in all of the 15 years of my life, I felt loved by a father figure.

I smiled back at him and almost started to tear up, “Thanks, Dad.”

Dad…I called Tim dad. Why? He isn’t my real dad…But he’s a way better father than my dad ever was…Hell, my real father tried killing me. I do love my real dad still, I don’t know why. But right now, I feel as if I am loved by the only guy in the world who has ever been there for me as a father. I smiled to myself and thought to myself Sorry, Dad. But you probably are having a better time right now than in your life. I do hope your okay and I love you and miss the old you…

I started to cry then.

“Liam,” Tim looked at me with concern, “What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing…It’s just…I miss my o-old Dad.” I spit out.

He started, “Well, what he did to you before…he d-died, was wrong, Liam. You understand? I know it’s hard for you to loose your dad, and you miss hi…”

I started to cry louder, “No…you don’t understand. He was different before mom got him into…”

I stopped. Mom got him into all the drugs. I remember it now, it’s all coming back. My father was always there for me when I was little, and my mom was there too, until I was about 3, and then she was always off doing whatever. Then after a few years, he started to do what she was doing. That’s why I have so few memories of my mom…it was all her…It was her fault…
I stood up abruptly,
“I don’t want to see my mother…” I said silently and was about to walk out of the door...

“Liam Winsky? Your mother is ready for you.” She told me.

I knew what to do just then, I had to stand up to her. But I was so scared, I knew I should have walked away, but I walked in slowly after the nurse, and every step felt as if I was walking toward death.

















~~~

My mother was sitting in a chair behind a glass wall, and all of her brown hair that use to be very shiny and flawless when I was a baby, was dirty and cut off to a spiked boy cut. Her eyes looked dangerously more filled with pain, anger, bitterness and doubt as she stared at me coldly in those tired looking brown eyes that once were filled with happiness and joy and they were bright and beautiful. Now her once shiny and flawless skin were now filled with lines of age and indents that looked so unnatural. She hasn’t changed at all.
I sat silently in the chair in front of the glass in front of her.

“Hello, Mother.” I said very carefully after a few moments, trying to hide the disgust.

“Hi son.” She told me with the same expression she had as I came in the tiny room.

Son… I never felt like that towards her since I was a baby…

I sat up straight and coughed abruptly,

She spoke again with angry tears in her eyes and stared at the floor it seemed like, “Dad…k-killed himself…?” She asked in more of a statement than a question.

I almost filled with tears myself; I didn’t answer her question, but as I was clenching my teeth, said “You got him into it.”

She quickly lifted her head quickly and stared at me with hate in her eyes and with bitterness in her voice, “What do you mean?”

I almost had the urge to slam my fist down on the table that separated us and walk out of there slamming the door behind me, but now, right now, at this time… I was more confident than that, “You got Dad into all of those drugs. You were never there for me most of my life. I’m even disgusted to call you my mother anymore.” I told her and started to stand up quickly to turn away from her forever but that’s when the most unexpected happened…

She started crying deeply, and replied
“I-I just wanted your Father to be happy, Liam. I loved him with all my heart. I just…guess I got into the wrong things and took him down with me even more than he was before. You have to believe me, son.”
Son… when was the last time she called me that before today?

“What do you mean, wasn’t he happy before?” I asked her.

She started, “He acted happy around you, he wanted you to live a good life and be a great kid and he wanted to be an awesome father. I didn’t want kids… You were a mistake, but I still love you with all my heart… and,”

“You don’t love me.” I simply replied. It had to be true, after all those years of her not seeming to be there…

“I do, son. You just have to know…Liam, I’m pregnant.”

I just sat there astonished, surprised and wordless. I thought I’d never have a sibling.

“Yes… that’s why I moved here. I knew that they had a good rehab program and I wanted to get my game up and I wanted to quit my addiction for…”

She rubbed her stomach, looking down at it with affection…

“This child. I couldn’t tell your father yet, I am about three and a half months along now… And I knew it would be best to wait, well at least that’s what I thought…” She started to tear up again…

“But then I suppose he went crazy and killed himself, along the way, hurting his only child that’s out of my womb…” She finally finished.

Her eyes were filled with all kinds of emotions behind those tired brown eyes, I could see the young and joyful mother that he use to know coming out, her beautiful side…but it was filled with hurt, sadness, grieve, sorrow, guilt, shame… so many things I couldn’t name.

I wanted to touch her, reach out to her and hold her hand, telling her that it’ll all be okay. That life has its consequences…But I heard the sniffling stop.

I glanced up at her, and her eyes were once again filled with the anger and remorse she had when I had first laid eyes on her in almost 3 months…She was staring right at me.

She started to laugh, and it wasn’t her joyful one either. Still her eyes were filled with the anger…She looked so…evil right now.

“Maybe…just maybe, I could be like your Dad and be with him. I could go crazy…” Right then she jumped out of her chair, and hit the glass that separated them and the pieces of glass came flying everywhere like tiny crystal raindrops. She jumped over the table and ran into me, and started choke holding me.
“Wh-what is y-you doing?” I asked, trying to speak clearly but it felt like my lungs were slowly filling with the presence of nothing. Like the air was evaporating away from me…

“I should have done this before, Liam. I can only handle one child…” She glanced down at her stomach quickly.

Both of my parents are crazy…Were…How could I have ever suspected different? I should have known all along…and now my mother is killing me…

And I was in plain darkness…I saw a light ahead of me…I started running towards it, I was scared and afraid. But then I heard voices saying don’t go towards the light! Very faintly. I stopped…and woke up

I was covered in sweat in a hospital bed.

I stayed in my room at the foster house for as long as I could imagine…I couldn’t sleep, because every time that I tried falling asleep, I would have nightmares of my mother trying to kill me again…It didn’t matter if a doctor or my foster parents would try to talk to me about it…It just happened.
Hell, who was she even? She wasn’t the mother I knew when I was a baby…She wasn’t herself…Or maybe it was all a dream and we could go back to normal…Hell, there is no normal. My father’s dead after shooting himself and my mom’s a crazy pregnant woman in rehab. They both tried to kill me.
They aren’t even my parents anymore.

I started to silently cry again while I rose up from my bed and slowly walked over to my dresser, and opened the bottom drawer were I kept my razor blade I haven’t used since those lonely nights in the alleyway…
I tried to pull away my desire and pain, but I couldn’t. I slowly and silently pushed that blade down on my wrist and I could see the blood dripping from there. It looked so…attracting. I kept on doing that all the way up my arm until I’ve had enough and silently put it back into my drawer, closed it tight and went back to my bed to cry more and more until I feel asleep crying.
Tomorrow was the first day of school. I looked at the clock; it was 1:15 AM. I slowly drifted into a long, long night of terrifying nightmares.

I woke up screaming, it was 6:00 AM and my alarm clock was going off. I sighed, and clicked it off. It’s been almost 2 weeks since the incident with my mother…and still I feel as if I have nothing. I quietly grabbed a black t-shirt, my new black hoody, a pain of skinny jeans and everything else and slipped into my bathroom and took a long shower. My arm ached from the cuts sliding down under my arms, it hurt like heck, but oh well. I got dressed and took a look at myself in the sink mirror even if I already knew I looked like crap. My eyes were red and swollen, it seemed like I haven’t slept all night and it looked like I was way older than 15 years old too. I finally went downstairs for breakfast and morning conversations, I was silent, and even didn’t talk to Roo. Everyone else was trying to keep up happy chatter, but I could tell they couldn’t stand my awful mood and if they even tried asking about it, I would say that nothing’s wrong. Then it was 7:00, and Roo and I headed out early to the bus stop and I brought my iPod with, so I didn’t have to listen to her ask me what was wrong. She wouldn’t understand either way.

The first day of school went by really…really……really slow. All of the preppy popular people looked at me as if I was an alien from another planet. Other people than seemed to like me would throw me an occasional smile or an “Ey.” In the hallway. I didn’t bother much, because I didn’t feel like talking to anyone at all.

In the first month of going to that dumb Rainer High, I realized that if you didn’t talk to anyone, you were automatically considered a “Loner.” I didn’t mind being called that, it stuck to me like glue after the first few days. I also realized that the only classes I didn’t totally suck at were the advanced art, English, American History, and choir.
In The next few months, a little less people quit trying to be friends with me and moved on in their own lives and whatever…I didn’t care; they don’t need to talk to me anyway.

Christmas Ball, I realized that was the time when I felt the loneliest. It seemed as if everyone had a date except for me. It was kind of weird just standing at the end of a long table filled with junk food and punch, just chewing down. But it was kind of fun after a while, I got use to just standing alone. After a very long time it seemed like, I felt a tap on my shoulder…
I spun around so fast I hardly knocked the punch out of my own hands.

“Yo, J-Man. Dis is the Goth I was talkin’ bout.” Steven Wells was standing in front of me; he was one of those wanna-be-gangsters that were at the boys’ home with me a while back who always tried starting fights with me.

I tried to back off, but a lot more of those wanna-be-gangsters circled around me and the guy that he was talking to-Apparently names “J-Man”-looked big, really big. He was about a foot taller than me and his hair was buzzed off. He started walking towards me slowly,

“Hey, Goth kid. No one mess wit my homies.” He tried to throw a punch at me, but I ducked and got back up quickly and punched him as hard as I could in the eye.

They all started to throw punches at me, but I started to run and that J-Man whatever was backing away holding his hand against his eye. I just realized then that a crowd of other students have formed staring at us. And to my surprise, most of them were cheering me on. I sprinted as fast as I could to the far corner of the gym, and turned around, and I realized that a bunch of teachers were walking away with the wanna-be’s and Principal Winger was heading straight towards me, he signaled something with his hands for me to follow him. I watched as the whole 9th grade student body cheered me on while the other teachers left in there were telling them to shush it. After I was in the hallway, I heard the music started again in the gymnasium where the ball was. Principal Winger I realized has stopped and looked at me with his young brown eyes but an old tired face, and medium- length almost gray hair neatly tucked behind his ears. I was surprised to find that he had understanding in his eyes, and he finally spoke,

“Liam Winsky, when I was your age…”

I interrupted him with guilt in my head, “Yeah, yeah I know, you would have never done such a horrible thi…” He then interrupted me with laughter.

I was very confused then, and he spoke again after a moment of laughter, “No, I probably would have done the same thing. And Liam! I haven’t heard you say a word at all this year until now!” He exclaimed.

I felt myself calm down, “Yeah…I guess it just…blurted out,” I told him.

He was then looking at me with a caring and sad look, “Liam is something going on or did something happen in the last year or so that was…really bad?”

I then burst out crying and my knees felt all wobbly and my heart ached, and Principal Winger brought me calmly to his office and sat down in his desk and handed me a tissue box,
“Come, sit down. You can tell me anything that has been bothering you.” He said lightly.

I sat down in the uncomfortable chair in front of his desk and told him everything that happened front the beginning to end-except for the cutting- and when I was done with the story, I didn’t know how much time has passed by but I knew that Principal Winger has been sitting there quietly listening and patiently with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. When I quickly glanced up at him, he looked very worried and sad.

He cleared his throat, “I’m very sorry about everything Liam, and I think that’s the reasons why your grades have been failing in multiple classes. But how are things going at your foster home?” He asked me.

“They’re doing pretty good, it’s actually amazing…” I weakly smiled at the thought.

“That’s great,” Principal Winger smiled but still had sadness in his eyes, “Hey, how would you like to have a personal counselor? I know a lady that could help you through things, well, not exactly so that you’ll fully get over it, but you will heal a lot” He had sincerity in his voice.
“Sure.” I simply replied, I didn’t know if it would help…but maybe.

Principal Winger smiled brightly at me, “Thank you for taking this opportunity, Liam. It means a lot to me to see you grow into such a responsible and mature man in a matter of the months I’ve known you…” He picked up the phone, “One moment.”

After a few minutes of him talking on the phone with whoever it was…I could tell it would be my new counselor, he hung up and smiled at me again and opened his desk. I glanced at the clock and it was 9 P.M. which meant that the dance was over. That was much of a great memory of the first dance I went to. I smirked.

Principal Winger handed me a fully written schedule to clip into my agenda book. It had the times I had to go to…Mrs. Chloe’s office…who was my new counselor. My first appointment was on Monday during study hour and it was twice a week visits. I glanced at the office number, 2043A. That room was pretty close to my locker…I remember. I have locker 1870 which was right by some weird science teacher’s lab who is obsessed over frogs, his classroom is 2050.

I started to stand up and threw a small “Thanks,”

Principal Winger told me to wait, and I sat back down again. He cleared his throat again, “Remember to always stay strong, Liam Winsky. When you need help, get some or it will lead you down the wrong life path and that will screw up your entire life. You can come and chat with me anytime you need or want to, Liam. I’m always here for you.”

I smiled, and replied a real warming, “Thank you, Principal Winger.”

He smiled back at me and replied, “No problem. Now you better get a move on, your ride is probably waiting for you.”

I walked out the door then with the schedule in my hand.

The bell rang after 3rd hour Algebra, and I jumped out of my seat and walked down the hallway as fast as I could. 4th hour was my study hall, and this was my first appointment with Mrs. Chloe. I twisted the number lock on my locker, slammed in open, and wondered why I was such in a rush. I had enough time in between 3rd hour and 4th hour anyway. I could wander around the school during my study hour if I wanted to, if a hall monitor was walking around I could just show them my schedule. I slowed a little down then, realizing I still had 6 minutes left before 4th hour. I grabbed my agenda and a novel I was reading. I don’t know why I read so much about romance; I guess it was just so interesting.
I started to rummage through my locker to pretend I was looking for something with all of the time left, I guess it was so boring because I never talked to anyone anymore. I just read…wrote…cut all day at home. And be silent at school and read…write…try to listen at school with the boring classes, but the horrifying images of my father killing himself or anything else just pops into my mind and I just loose all focus. In all my other classes that are interesting like advanced art, they just consume all of me. It’s odd. My art teacher loves me in a way even though I never talk. She told me that I’m the best artist this school has ever had. I like getting complimented on things I like to do…In my choir class at the beginning of the year, we had to fill out a worksheet saying what we wanted to do when we grew up and a lot more…I wrote I’m going to be the lead singer in a rock band. My choir teacher told me later in the year that he is much found of my voice and would think that my dream would come true. I liked that…
The bell rang, interrupting my thoughts and signaling that 4th hour has begun…
crap…
I ran down the empty hall to room 2043A, where the door was already open.
I stopped when I saw the office, it was completely amazing. It had a small and cozy feeling to it and had black painted wall, and very thin curtains thrown over the window, making the room just faintly dim. There were a bunch of expensive looking multi colored peaceful bean bag chairs everywhere and a very comfy looking white couch in front of the shaded window. There was a lava lamp sitting on a side table next to the white couch next to a giant tissue box. I realized there was a giant green peace sign painted on one side of the wall. I saw a young looking brown haired woman that looked around 27 years old sitting in some sort of c-shaped white expensive futuristic desk with a laptop, and her chair was a pillow. She had very pretty blue eyes that shined and a nose ring. She was wearing a black flowy spring dress even if it was in the winter. Her long brunette hair was pulled into a gentle side pony held up with a really colorful bandana.
There were candles shimmering gleams of lights everywhere and it smelled faintly of vanilla and lavender that accidentally got mixed but in a good way. She had a bunch of tea bags by her desk, and a coffee cup that was steaming right next to her, which was probably filled with tea.

“Hello,” She smiled at me cheerfully, “You must be Liam.”

Her voice was so pure of youth and joy. For a moment she sounded too young to be an adult, but I knew when I looked back at her, that she was. I could tell in the age of her face, it was yet still pretty, but you could tell she wasn’t an average 18 year old. Maybe…25.

“You have the right guy.” I replied, not sure what to think of her yet.

“My name’s Mrs. Chloe, as you already know. But you can call me anything you want to. It’s nice to meet you finally, Liam!” Then she looked as I was standing there awkwardly in the doorway.

“You can sit anywhere you want, too.” She laughed.

I half-smiled and replied, “Okay.” I plopped down in one of the bean bag chairs by her desk. I realized that there were tons of games stacked up on shelves in the corner by the doorway.

“So Liam, go ahead and tell me anything you want about yourself. Or do you want me to go first?” she smiled again very comfortably.

“You can…” I told her.

“O-kay. Well…for starters, my husband Joseph is an art professor at Woodmount University here in Rainer in the mornings, but in the afternoons he teachers CIS Advanced Arts for the 10th-12th graders,” She began…

“I love art…” I interrupted.

She smiled and laughed, “Well maybe you can meet him sometime and he can teach you some things.”

“I would like that.” I smiled back at her. I was beginning to like this counselor, she was way different than any other teacher I knew who were too strict, or liked frogs too much…I shivered at the thought.

“And…I have a baby girl, her name is Isabel Parker Chloe but we call her Little Izzy. She’s only a few weeks old now. I’m 25 years old, and have been a student therapist for a little over a year now. My favorite things to do are helping people, being a mother and being a wife. All the colors are my favorite, I’m a vegetarian, and I am Christian. I have done things in my life that I regret, but the thing is that you have to learn from your mistakes and trust in the Lord with all of your heart.” She smiled. “Okay, I’m done chattering.”

“My turn I’m guessing.” I laughed nervously, but I wasn’t nervous.

She nodded and waited patiently.

“My name is Liam James Winsky. I’m 15 years old, and yet I feel older. My f-f-father…he beat me a long time ago because my mom went to rehab. He thought that the police took her away, but they didn’t actually. I blacked out after he beat me because I was almost dead… The police came later because of a call from the neighbor lady, and they found my dad dead on the floor with a gun lying next to him. He left a note saying it was too much for me. He was all depressed and crap before he did that though…Um, then I went into foster care until my…”

I had trouble saying the word mother, and started to tear up. Mrs. Chloe got up and gave me a tissue box, but I shook my head.

“…m-m-m…m-mother… got out of rehab…so I went to visit her and she told me she was pregnant and she went to rehab for the baby…earlier that day I found out that she got my dad into the drugs and that’s why they moved from Smallville to Rainer so recently, my dad thought it was to get away from the cops, but my mom apparently wanted to go to rehab for the baby…then she went all crazy on me and tried to kill me, and told me that she can only take care of one child…and I’m scared for my soon to be brother or sister. I haven’t heard from my mom since then and no one told me what happened after I got out of the hospital.” I started crying then.

She then first started the words of comfort and healing.

I never did talk to any other students that year, except for the ones within my foster family. But…I healed more and more with every visit I had to Mrs. Chloe’s office. The more I was there, the more I realized how awesome she is and how life has it’s consequences, like what Principal Winger said to me, and way more. I really loved going there, and I asked if I could have an appointment with her 3 days a week and she said sure. I started feeling better every time.

Summer came and went by quickly, because my foster parents traveled so much, and we went to explore pretty much the whole southern side of the United States, like Alabama, Texas, and we even went a little a little more west and visited the southern side of California. My foster parents told me that if I was still here next summer, they are going across the seas to Europe. That’s awesome, because I wanted to go there since I was a little kid…
I didn’t visit my mother for a very long time…Not through January, February, March, April, May, June, July (I turned 16 and had a great little party with my foster family in Texas), August… And I found out that my mother killed herself that month, which meant that she also killed my unborn baby sibling. I was devastated to find that out, but Mrs. Chloe helped me. I was still enraged and sad about the fact that both of my parents killed themselves, but I knew that they were in a better place than they wanted to be in. Before I knew it, my sophomore year started up again. I had goals this year, too.
1. Become friends with the people who wanted to become friends last year.
2. Talk more (which I can now because Mrs. Chloe helped me become more confident)
3. Get good grades
4. Don’t cut
5. Save up a lot of money and try to start a band

That reminds me, last year in school, I told Mrs. Chloe about my cutting and she helped me through it telling me a lot of things about stories of other teenagers doing what I did and end up killing myself, and way more things. She helped me through my depression, and I’m mostly out of it now. Sometimes I get depressed, but I know not to take it out with a blade or knife or anything anymore. I thank her so much for being in my life, because without her, right now I would probably be dead. I also thank God for everything that helped me mostly heal.

On the first day of my 10th grade year, I was so happy I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my usual apparel, took a short hot shower, got dressed, brushed my hair, styled my hair. It’s now grown out to my shoulders, and it looks good I think. I grabbed my black skull and bones backpack full of notebooks, and other school supplies. I ran down the stairs for breakfast,

“Hey Liam” Roo smiled at me knowing that I was happy again.

“Hey, Roo. Say we check out that skate park we wanted to try last year but we never did?” I smiled back at my foster sister.

“Oh, yeah,” She smiled even brighter, “I bet I can do a half pipe now.” She told me.

I realized I haven’t skated in nearly a year, “Yeah, I bet you’re even better than me now.” I laughed, knowing that she has been practicing every day and every where we went.

I could tell my foster parents were happy for me again, because they didn’t carry on their morning conversations in awkwardness anymore, or look at me with sadness in their eyes. They carried on their normal conversations with laughter, happiness, and love. Love…that’s what I feel when I’m with them. It’s the first time I’ve felt it in a long, long time.

My foster parents adopted me too.















~~~

I looked at my schedule while I was standing at my new locker,
1st hour- English, Lang, and Comp. (ELC) 7:40-8:30
2nd hour- Baritone Choir/Music Study 8:36-9:26
3rd hour- Geometry/ Adv. Algebra 9:31-10:21
4th hour- Biology/Chemistry 10:27-11:17
5th hour- Lunch A 11:23-12:13
6th hour-American History and Government 12:19-1:09
7th hour-Study Hour (1x week see Mrs. Chloe on Mondays) 1:17-2:07
8th hour-The Advanced Arts CIS (College in School) 2:07-2:57

Awesome, I get to see Mrs. Chloe every other week for 7th hour, and in 8th hour is…CIS, oh my god, my art teacher from last year placed me in CIS Advanced Arts, he can only select 5 students out of the 40 students he has every hour. Wow, this means I could possibly get a scholarship for TAA CIS. But I wanted to be a rock star…maybe I can focus on both 
And Mrs. Chloe’s husband teaches that class. Nice I finally get to meet him!
I felt a tap on my shoulder which brought back terrible but also good memories from last years Christmas Ball and I slowly turned around. A beautiful girl was standing there smiling at me with teased medium length shiny dark red hair, and big pretty brown eyes that were so…adorable. She had freckles sprinkled across her nose, and her smile was so magnificent. She had a small diamond nose piercing. She was almost as tall as me, probably 5’9 (now I’m 5’12), and she was wearing a black My Chemical Romance (MY FAVORITE BAND!) t-shirt with very colorful suspenders, a black tutu with rainbow leggings and black converse. She looked so godly familiar…

“Hi there, my name’s Chelsea.” She held out her hand,

I took it and slowly shook it not wanting to let go, I was lost in her beautiful brown eyes that sparkled like little diamonds, but they were even more gorgeous then that. I got back to reality and lost grip of her hand sadly,

“Oh,” I smiled at her and she smiled back, “My name’s Liam. It’s nice to meet you…You look so familiar.”

She looked like she sparked a long lost memory, “You use to live on Richmond Street?” She asked me in more of a statement than a question.

Now I remember her, she was that girl…

“Yeah in that big apartment building by the ocean. You were the first girl who ever smiled at me in there…the only girl. I only saw you once though?” I told her, remembering her smile and my silent but shy expression.

“You use to be so shy… I always saw you around and wanted to get to know you but it seemed like you were always so busy…” She confessed,

Pain steered through me remembering how busy I use to be because of my dad’s depression… I caught myself in the throat, letting out a small whimper.

She looked at me with sympathy and put her hand on my arm, when she did her touch felt as if a lightning bolt shot through my arm, except not painfully, releasing my pain. Her hand was so smooth against my rough skin…

“Are you okay, Liam?” She asked.

The bell rang, warning the crowded hallway that first hour would start in 6 minutes.

She stepped closer to me as the rush of the crowd stirred through the hallway, causing commotion to not be late for the first class on the first day. She opened her notebook, and I could feel her warm breath on my chest because she was only about 5 inches away from me, so close. It felt so connecting like I’ve known her forever…So comfortable to the greatest measurement. She wrote something down on her notebook. She was so beautiful…
She tore the small piece of scrap paper out of her notebook, and handed it to me.
I looked down at it, and there was her name and number.

She smiled at me so beautifully, “I probably won’t see you all day because my locker is on the other side of the school,” I felt pain go shoot my chest, but she touched my slightly on the arm again and I felt better, “So just call me later and we could hang out sometime.” She started to walk away and wave at me with a smile on her face. So beautiful… I smiled back and slightly waved.
I just stood there for a moment staring in the direction she walked away before I noticed the time and started to sprint in the other direction as fast as I could to room 3491.

After study hour ended near the end of the day, which in there I talked to Mrs. Chloe about how it was going and I told her about Chelsea. She smiled when I told her and said that it was love at first sight. I didn’t agree nor disagree; I just merely smiled knowing in my head and my heart that it maybe perhaps was…
But I had doubts because I knew of high school relationships, the bad ones. But I also knew of the good ones…Like my parents, I seemed weaker whenever I talked about them so I didn’t often… they met in high school and were together since then. It kind of struck at me, that thought. I didn’t know that they loved each other so deeply.
But one thing I know is that I’ve never felt the same way around first meeting a girl than I did with Chelsea. That thought stuck with me all day and it haunted me.

In 7th hour TAA CIS, I introduced myself to Mr. Chloe as one of Mrs. Chloe’s patients. He smiled and said that it was pleasant to meet me and he heard a lot about me from a lot of people. I wondered who…

So he had us do introductions of ourselves on the first day, and we did. Then he had the rest of the hour for us to get to know each other. It was kind of funny because there were only 5 students in the class. Then he told us that once we get the profile of a person, we could know truly if we wanted to associate with them. I looked around at the rest of my classmates, I saw Katy Whitman- who was one of those who never really liked my last year. I left her to be. I saw two new faces that I’ve never met before; a girl and a guy that looked like twins… I’ll get to them later. I saw a familiar guy, he has dark brown hair that cut off at below his eyebrows, dark brown eyes and was wearing a black band t-shirt of a band I’ve never heard of and black baggy chain Goth-styled jeans. He had a lot of piercings and chains, and then I remembered him. He was one of those guys who was trying to be my friend for so long last year, but then gave up around the end of the school year when he realized that I wouldn’t talk to anyone. I started to walk over to him and he shot a glance up at me and I saw sadness in his eyes turn a bit more joyful.

“Hey, you were that dude who wouldn’t talk to anyone last year.” He looked like he had hope in his face, as he laughed playfully.

“Yep, that’s me. Ha-ha, so what’s your name dude?” I asked.

“Elijah, but you can call me Eli. And you?” He replied,

“Liam. Just Liam.” I laughed, and before you knew it we became best friends.

Principal Winger was standing at the front of the podium, with my classmates standing behind him all wearing blue caps and gowns. There were families everywhere sitting on the bleachers and chairs in front of him. I couldn’t believe it was graduation already, but I guess time flies by fast when you’re having fun. I glanced behind me in the bleachers where all of the 2014 Graduates were, and saw Chelsea standing there and she was staring at me too. She smiled at me, and I realized for the billionth time how beautiful she is. Even on the inside, she has been hurt a lot in her past by abusive boyfriends and non-supporting parents, and she said that I am her Prince Charming that came to her rescue. December 14th, 2014. I will always remember that day. That was the day that I, Liam James Winsky, asked beautiful Chelsea Reina Stann to become my girlfriend. She accepted and I was so thankful, because I never knew that I could have someone as amazing as she is. We know everything about each other and more. It will continue to be that way as we grow older and older. I remember the first time we ever kissed, it was a sunny day and we were having a picnic in the park in the summer after 10th grade. It grew cold, started to rain and the sky got dark on that day which was June 3rd, 2014. She cuddled closer to me as I silently rocked her back and forth under the tall tree. She leaned in closer, and that’s when it happened. Her smooth lips pressed against mine in the pouring rain and it felt like everything else was not there, just us.
I got back into the present, and looked around for my two best friends, Eli and… Johnny. I met Johnny after a while of hanging around with Eli. He was…okay I guess. But Eli will always be my real best friend. I guess I feel bad for him for being a third wheel because Eli and I hang out a lot more than he does with either one of us. Eli told me that he’s stuck around since Kindergarten and all he does is follow him around especially when he’s with other friends. I feel bad that we talk bad about him so much, but he’s just annoying. He’s also really…weird like he’s got something planned that he’s not telling us. I don’t know about him, but I know that I’m trying to get his glue off me, but he just keeps on sticking. I saw Johnny first, standing in the back of the line and looking at me with some sort of evil stare, I don’t know why, but he never looked at me that way. His bright green eyes have faded to a dull green after he started to drink in high school, he always tried to get Eli and me to drink but we always refused because our girlfriends didn’t like us to drink and we hated it anyway. Eli’s girlfriend is Avriella Liberty. They’ve been dating since the end of 8th grade I know, and they are a really great couple. I then saw Eli after looking away from Johnny, he was standing a row down from Johnny and a few down, he smiled at me and did thumbs up, I smiled back. I saw his girlfriend standing next to him and she threw me a smile, too. She was alright. I had a feeling that Eli, Avriella, Chelsea and I would become good friends after high school. It didn’t matter if they went there separate ways, but I know that we would always stay in touch. I smiled to myself as Principle Winger called me down to get my High School diploma and thought of how life would be after high school. I would marry Chelsea, after I go to the Woodmount University and take my life as an artist-I decided that being a rock star…was just another dream in the blue. But I think of myself as a rock star- have kids an raise a family and raise my kids to have a way better life than I did. I promise that.

Elijah’s Story
07/02/2014

Wow, what a lovely night. The full moon just happens to be shining so elegantly over the Earth. It’s dark in this town of Rainer, despite the lighted streets which are simply lighted by the solar rays of the sun during the day. The sprinkling mist is turning into rain, prior to light crystals escaping from the sky so slowly which are now turning into a thick never ending pattern.
Drip, drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip…


I am lurking amongst the shaded streets
in search of something
I do not know.
It was in my dreams, I know it…

The air is chilly, yet scarcely close to being warm. My footsteps echo loudly as I walk down the empty street of Mayfield Lane. It feels as if someone is breathing down the back of my neck, but I know that nobody is behind me. As the night went by, time flew by fast and I continued my journey to nowhere in particular. I figured out why I was here on the outside, why I was searching, why this ever happened…


Beyond the other side of Michigan Park, I see a figure of a man’s body. I turned my head slightly away from this man to make sure I was not hallucinating. My heart starts pounding fast, my legs begin to shake, and I stand there frozen with terror. This man was staring right at me. I start to turn away from him and run while he begins to walk toward me and pull out something shiny from his pocket…a knife..???


I sprinted as far as I could possibly go without running out of breath or appear to have my heart explode from my chest. I looked behind me slowly, and there he was. I tried to run but he grabbed me, he started to laugh and pull off his black ski mask.

“LIAM! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!” I screamed at him while anger was building up inside of me.


Liam backed up holding up his hands offensively.

“Whoa, dude, I’m just kidding around. You don’t have to take it so hard…Look I’m sorry, Eli.”


I smiled but sighed, “Ha-ha okay, fine. But what are you doing out so late anyway?”


Liam looked left and right nervously for a moment, and then straightened up, “I was meeting up with my girl for a few hours, ya know?” He smiled.


I punched him in the shoulder jokingly and pretended to smile.



“Alright, I better get going, I have an interview tomorrow.” I told Liam.



“Okay dude, See you later. We should meet up sometime before college starts up.” He suggested.



“Yeah, okay text me sometime.” I started to walk away.


“Wait,” Liam whispered and pulled me towards him by my arm, “Watch out in this neighborhood these days…There’s a lot more going on here than you know of.”


I pulled away suddenly like what everyone else would do to something that weird, “Okay, bye.” and started to walk quickly. The truth is that I didn’t really pay attention… but I should have.


















~~~




I started to slowly walk down the streets after Liam disappeared around the corner of his street. I’ve known Liam since tenth grade. He and I are pretty close friends, but only since we were both juniors in high school. He moved to Rainer in our sophomore year, but didn’t really want to be friends with anyone then. He told me it was because he thought all of the people in Rainer were just prissy little rich snobs which he later found otherwise to be wrong. Also there are more bad things that have happened to him in his life which I hate happened…



I hear the movement of my body walking towards home. I realize why I was out here, because I remember my dream clearly now. It all begins now…



CRASH!!! I hear the mingling of metal hitting the hard pavement of the cement. I hear tires screeching to a halt. I smell blood. I taste it… I see stars forming against my vision while my head feels as if someone just smashed it through a wall…


















~~~


Beep…beep…beep…beep…..

I woke up and I didn’t know where I was, but I think I was in a hospital because it looked seemed one. A lady that looked about 25 years old with medium length black hair in a ponytail and blue eyes came in a few minutes later after I just stared blankly at the wall. She was wearing blue scrubs and she was very pretty and fair skinned. But I didn’t mind, she seemed very nice but not my type.



“Hello, Mr. Welner. My name’s Nurse Gomez, do you know where you are right now?” She asked me. Nurse Gomez was holding my wrist, and squeezing it firmly while looking up at something.

I didn’t reply. I was staring out the window because I saw a man there. That man was staring at me too, and I know him. He was in my dreams…


She turned around confusingly to see what I was staring at. I blinked and he disappeared,
what the hell? What does this man want from me…? Why is he stalking me? I see him everywhere and I can’t get away from him…


Nurse Gomez asked, “You are at the Rainer Hospital. What are you staring at?” she looked at me like I was crazy.


I looked up at her, “Nothing. Just, you won’t believe me.”


She looked at me with concern, “You know… I’m really good at keeping secrets. You can tell me anything, Mr. Welner.”


I smiled slightly, “You can call me Eli,” I tried to lift up my hand to shake hers but it was limp, and hurt. “Ouch...” I put it down.


She scrunched her eye brows and replied, “You can call me Tamara. And… a car crashed into you about…” she looked at her watch, “three hours ago and you’ve been passed out since then. It’s now three in the morning, and you were walking on Mayfield/6th Street. You have a broken right arm; two of your fingers are broken on your left hand, and 3 broken ribs. I’m sorry about that but you’re lucky to even be alive. Also, you have a few missed calls from a woman named Avriella Liberty who claims to be your girlfriend. Also, another call came in from another man who won’t give us his name. If you would like to call them back, here’s the mans phone number and I’ll go get you a headset for a phone.” Tamara started to walk out the door,


“Wait, Tamara,” I said.


She turned around slightly, “Yes?”


“Do you know the name of the person who ran me over?” I asked.


“Um…no…It’s confidential.”

“WHAT?” I screamed, “YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T TELL ME THE NAME OF THE PERSON WHO ALMOST KILLED ME?”

“I said I don’t know…” She said quietly, and with that she walked out of the door.

I felt bad for screaming at her, but she seemed to become very nervous when I asked her about the name of the guy. It was suspicious…
I laid there silent for about ten minutes, and then Tamara came back in again. She didn’t even look at me while she was applying the headpiece nor spoke.


“Look Tamara, I’m so sorry for yelling at you. But I mean… it’s complicated…” I whispered to her.


She looked up dazed, “What do you mean by ‘complicated’?”


I sighed and began by telling her about my dreams…


“In my dreams the reality happened. It started one day that my mother would die and the next day because of accidental poison from her prescription, she did. I had another dream the next day that someone would shoot the girl next to me on the podium at graduation. That happened the following week and that bullet was one foot away from me too. Her name was Ashley Jacobson and I’ve known her since kindergarten. It’s tragic to see a school mate that you’ve known since forever die right next to you. She dated my best friend Johnny, too, but she cheated on him. So I haven’t talked to her since 10th grade because that’s when they broke up. I had a dream the next day that that car crash would happen but I couldn’t remember until the second it actually happened. All I remember is the smell of metal, blood, and the flashing of lights. That was about a month prior. Then the next day, I had a dream that the man I saw in that window would kill me, and that he’s stalking my every...Move… But that hasn’t happened yet, as you see, he always has a mask on though, but I notice that he has green eyes. Then last night, I had another dream about dancing flames.”


She just stared wide eyed at me when I finished telling her my somewhat psychotic dreams.

“SEE! I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE ME! THAT’S WHY I DON’T TELL ANYONE!” I screamed at her… then automatically felt regret.


“I do believe you. I just…d-do you know that y-you’re dreams that are going like that m-me-mean…” Tamara stammered.


“Yes, I’m crazy.” I finished.


“Oh! No, not that…Y-You…You’re…You’re psychic. And, I know just what to do when you’re healed…” She told me.


“What do you mean? Are you some sort of psychic healer? Ha.” I asked her.


“Psychics can’t be healed, they stay like that all of their lives. Don’t you like being able to tell the future? It can tell you anything about anyone. I meant after you heal from your broken bones, Eli.” Tamara explained.


“Oh, so what’s the plan?” I asked.


She shook her finger at me signaling ‘no’, “When it’s time.”


I just stared at her with a blank expression, “Okay, fine.”
She walked out of the room and I turned on my television just simply skipping through the channels, but there was nothing on. After about ten minutes, my stomach shook and growled at me. I responded by pushing the button which called Tamara to me, the nurse in both ways. About a minute later, Tamara came in.

“Yeah?” She asked while she was switching around some wires on a machine that was hooked to me.

“First off, can you get me some food? Secondly, what is this thing?” I asked pointing to the oddly wired machine with multiple colored wires.

“Oh, I’m not you’re mother.” She winked at me and smiled.


“Well, you are the nurse.” I replied while smirking.


“Yeah I know,” She replied and looked at the machine, “This is just for your blood to come back. You lost a lot of it in the accident.”


I sighed, “Yeah. The ‘accident’,” I told her while doing the quotation marks around the word accident, “I’m sure it’s him that ran me over…not an ‘accident’, if so.”


She glimpsed at the door behind her and turned back around; getting her clipboard from the cabinet it was stuck to, which was probably magnetic. She walked back to me and flipped open a page, and whispered to me,


“I’m not even suppose to tell you this…”


She looked behind her again nervously,

“The doctor…” she smiled, “will be coming in anytime now. But, about the guy who ran you over… someone was a witness to the scene…”

“WHAT THE HELL?” I screamed, almost bearing my vocal cords…I quieted down and Tamara looked scared.

“Um, why was this person out at like midnight? Why didn’t this person stop whoever ran me over? Oh, yeah, WHO EVEN DID?” I was enraged.


“Her name was Chelsea Reina Stann, the witness. She says she knows you…” She continued but I interrupted.


“Chels?” I asked confused.


Tamara looked at me, “How do you know her?”


I shook my head with fury, “She’s my friend Liam Winsky’s girlfriend. I saw him today before the crash… He told me he was meeting up with Chels. How did she see the crash?”


She started, “Well…she told the police that she was just sta…” Then she cut off because the door was opening.


Tamara dropped the clipboard on the floor and pushed it away from her smiling.


A tall, handsome lean man with short cut black hair came in. He was fair skinned and had blue eyes. He was wearing blue scrubs as well, and looked about 28 years old. Tamara smiled and slightly waved at this guy. He winked at Tamara, and she smiled even brighter.

“Good morning, Mr. Welner. I’m Dr. Travis Goodell.” He smiled at me brightly.


“Okay, nice to meet you…” I told him.


“Well, as pretty Nurse Gomez…” He looked up at her to see her blushing, “told you, you have 3 broken ribs, one broken arm, and 3 broken fingers. Did you also know that your lungs are slightly damaged?”


I looked over at Tamara but she was just gazing at Dr. Travis Goodell.


I coughed, and she jumped back to reality, literally, “Uh, and yeah. So what’s the plan?” I asked Dr. Goodell, and glanced up at him. Wow, he was mega tall.


He glanced at his clipboard, “Nurse Gomez?” He asked.

“Yes?” Tamara asked dreamily.


He smiled and winked at her again, “Will you get me the portable x-ray machine?”


She frowned slightly, “Okay, it’s in the mechanics room. I’ll be back shortly.” She walked away and tried to show off her walk professionally.

He just gazed in her direction, and sighed dreamily.

“Hey.” I said.

He jumped, just like Tamara did when I coughed.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Welner?” He asked me.


I smirked, “First off, don’t call me Mr. Welner.”
I waited for his response.

“Okay, Elijah?” He asked.

“Just Eli…Oh, you like Tamara don’t you?” I asked smiling.

“Oh, yes, definitely. But, I don’t think she likes me.” He frowned but looked down at me “Oh, I’m sorry, this isn’t professional.”

“I don’t care much for decency. I like to be artistic and creative in my world, Dr. Goodell. And, no, I can tell that she likes you…a lot.” I smiled again.

“Really?” he perked up, “But… I’m too scared to ask her out.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like it. Uh, well, just tell her how you feel. But first just ask her if she would like to get…coffee or something. Then do that there. You guys would make a good couple.” I replied.

“Oh, okay. Thanks, man,” He smiled, “By the way; you can just call me Travis.”

Tamara walked in again with the x-ray machine. Travis smiled at her, and went over to whisper something in her ear. She giggled and nodded, and then straightened up again. Travis winked at me and did thumbs up. I laughed.

Tamara rolled the x-ray machine over to me, and whispered, “What happened when I was gone? Why is Dr. Goodell acting like this?”

I said, “Don’t you like him?”

She smiled, I couldn’t see, but I could tell that she was, “Yes, of course…what did you tell him?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I work the love magic.” I confessed.

She laughed and started to set up the machine.

“FIRE!” A man shouted outside of my room… and I heard scrambling and shouting in the hallway. The mood of panic struck me as I realized I couldn’t move again. My legs ached and every part of my body felt as if I was being stabbed with a thousand knifes all over. I could see the colors bursting together; red and orange; and they were dancing, I could smell the scent of burning rippling through my nostrils. It felt as if my whole body was slowly and silently dying. No more movement…no more…


Then I heard a SPLASH! And the colors were gone; I could only slightly see the movement of bodies forming around me. I felt as if I just got out of a bath. I felt good again, but I didn’t feel any part of my body. It felt like I was flying through the air now with no worries. Am I dead?


I woke up in a different place, and I heard ambulance sirens all over. I tried to lift up my head but it didn’t work. I tried to speak, but no words came out.


“Where am I?” I tried to say, but the only part of my body I could move was my lips. No speaking formed at all though, just a whisper.


“OH MY GOSH! YOU’RE ALIVE! And you are in the ambulance.” I heard a voice, but I could only halfway open my eyes. It was Tamara!


“What happened?” I tried to yell, but I could hardly speak.


“Some one lit a match and threw it on you, everyone’s guessing but we aren’t sure. I don’t know how though, but the window was open when we found you on fire.” She told me.


“I was on fire?” I whispered.


“Yes, and they drenched you with water, I told them to stop after they nearly drowned you to death. You are 2nd degree burned pretty much all over.” She replied.



“Who wants me dead?! I didn’t do ANYTHING to ANYBODY!” I whispered.


“Nobody knows.” She told me.


I sighed, but couldn’t. “Where are we going?” I asked her silently.


“To Fairbanks Int.” She answered.


I hated Fairbanks International Hospital, all the nurses and doctors there are mean and the women are sluts.

“Oh.” I just replied.


The ride the rest of the way was silent. Fairbanks was about a 40 minute drive away from Rainer, but it’s a multi-sized huge city.


When we were down the block from the hospital, I asked Tamara,


“So how bad is the Rainer Hospital?” I asked her.


“Let’s just say... I lost my job for now. But it’s a small hospital, so they are building a new little one soon. Then they’ll add on a bigger part later on.” She frowned.


“I’m sorry, Tamara.” I told her sympathetically.


“It’s fine. I’m going to apply at the clinic for the time being.” She told me.


“That’s good. Why are you coming with me anyway?” I asked.


“I’m your friend, and I always stay with friends when they are troubled.” She smiled.



When I got settled in a hospital room there, my girlfriend came running in.


“Baby, are you okay?” Avriella came running to me, she dropped her bag.


I loved her. She has been with me since the summer after 8th grade. I’ve loved her since 7th grade, but she didn’t talk to me so I never told her until she started talking to me in the summer. I was dating a girl by the end of 7th grade though, and I never really wanted to, but I lost hope to be with Avriella. Then we just came together, and I think that we’re meant to be. She means everything to me, and if I ever lost her, I would die.


She looked at me with concern in her big brown beautiful eyes. “My love?” She asked


“Yeah, I’m okay darling. I just, I don’t know. It’s been really crazy today. Some car crashed into me this morning and then someone set me on fire this evening.” I told her.


“I know, I heard it at work today. My boss came in to tell me that and I freaked out and tried calling you. How come you never called me back?” She asked.


Man, I love everything about her. I love her beautiful brown eyes, her hair is a dark brown that is a little below her shoulders, but she dyes it a lot. Right now it’s black. Her hair is a pale complex. I love her sparkling face, it’s beautiful. She has a cross tattoo on the bottom of her right arm, because she loves God with all her heart. I love how concerned she is with me even if it’s a little problem, I love how nice she is and how she’s so caring, I love how artistic she is too. She’s an artist right now, but she also is a photographer. Just everything that she is…is plain amazing.


“I figured out something and have been trying to piece it together…” I told her.


“What do you mean?” Avriella asked.


“I’m psychic.” I told her.


Her eyes opened wide, “Really?” She asked in amazement.


“Yes. And there’s a killer out there that wants me to die.” I told her.


Tears formed in her eyes, and she sat down next to me gently.


“But…w-w-why? Why does he want you?” She asked with tears.


I sighed; I hated to see her cry. “I don’t know, Avriella. He might know me, or have a grudge against me. Maybe he just randomly selects victims. I just don’t know, my love.”


“If y-you die, I’m dying right next to you.” She told me, and she bent down to kiss me on the lips very gently. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and I could taste the salt in the tears as she kissed me. I hated when she cried.


“Honey,” I gently whispered, “No. If I die, I want you to live. Live on without me, It’ll be okay. Just find a new guy and get married and have children. I want you to be happy, Avriella. I’ll wait for you in heaven; I’ll wait forever my love. I just want you to live a long, happy life.”

“I cannot be happy without you.” Avriella whispered.


“Yes you can. Just, please, baby?” I asked.


She didn’t say anything, but she sucked in her lips, and looked at the window in terror.


I heard a man’s laugh behind me, and he sounded evil.


I stayed in calmness, and pressed the nurse’s button. It wasn’t working.


“Avriella,” I whispered, “I want you to run. Run as fast as you can to the front desk and say there’s a killer in this room. Get Nurse Tamara Gomez. GO NOW.”


She started to run, but the door was locked. I sat still as the crash as glass flied everywhere from the window, and the guy from my dreams came in.


He was wearing a black ski mask, and black everything else. He had an axe in his right hand, and he had green eyes. I could tell he had some sort of voice recorder on him, because his mouth wasn’t moving. It probably said what he was saying in a different voice. What a clever killer.

Green eyes…


Avriella picked up the chair by the cupboards and crashed open the glass window leading to the hallway of the hospital. She ran out to the hallway, not caring if she got glass on her, or if she bled from it. She ran for help. The killer tried to go after her, but he probably decided it was no use. He wanted to kill ME, not her. Thank God that it’s not her…


He stared at me for a moment, and then spoke in his recorder.


“Finally! After all these years of your crap… I’ve got you right where I want you. Right in front of me, and I have this axe,” He glanced at it and smiled evilly, “I should just kill you right now, but that would be no fun would it?” He asked.

I just stared at him. After all these years… He MUST know me. But who is this guy?

I finally spoke, “Who are you?”

He just threw back his head and laughed, “Oh, little Elijah, I’m your worst nightmare. You’ll never find out who I am even if you tried. I’m closer to you than you know…”


I’m closer to you than you know… Maybe this killer guy wasn’t as smart as I thought he was. He’s throwing out hints one by one.


“So…Mr. Killer-Guy, how long have I’ve been doing “crap” to you?” I asked him.


“Damn it, Eli!” He said,


only my close friends call me Eli…


“If only I could say it all…” He told me.


“Okay,” I said, “Go ahead and vent your problems about me.”


“Okay!” He replied angrily, and he dropped his axe by the door behind him, “Ever since kindergarten you’ve treated me like crap! I’ve been so nice to you, but all you do is talk about your own problems. You wouldn’t even get drunk with me in high school! OR even plain drink…”

Kindergarten….Not drinking in high school…

“I HATE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT!” He screamed, “I pretended I liked you until 10th grade, because I couldn’t find any other friends…”
No other friends…10th grade?

“The only reason I talked to you way because I was a loner! I thought I liked you, but you mistreated me! You always wanted to hang out with your other ‘cooler’ friends or you’re STUPID GIRLFRIEND…”

WHAT!? NO BODY CALLS AVRIELLA THAT!

“OKAY, PAL! YOU’VE GONE TOO FAR! NOBODY CALLS MY GIRLFRIEND STU…” I yelled…


The police barged in the door, and the killer jumped out the window, and I heard him running through the grass… and looked back at me.


The police ran after him, and chased him for a few blocks, but then they lost him. I later found out that he got away…

So, I didn’t die. Tamara and Travis got together and they are a great couple. I moved into an apartment with my girlfriend, Liam, and Chels. I found out that Chels was outside during the car wreck because she was walking home from seeing Liam. We all pay the rent together and it goes pretty good because we all get along. I also got a tattoo identical to Avriella’s cross tattoo.



I haven’t seen the killer since that day at the hospital; it’s been about 3 months. I still have dreams about him killing me, but I wonder why? He hasn’t bothered me since then, but I still feel as if someone is watching my every move.

Then one day later that year, I flicked on the television screen,
“Breaking News, Johnny Oalman found dead at a crime scene…”

The killer is dead.