Chapter 1

Walking up the street to my house I opened the door and looked around. The window cast shadows around the house making the rooms darker the further away they were from them. Stale air flooded my senses as I walked in, trailing my muddy shoes through the room. Walking past the walls, not daring to look up for fear that I might see the pictures hanging there. Setting my book bag down to slouch against the wall I opened the fridge door and pulled out a water before sitting down and chugging it. A sadness swept through me, the burning urge to see her face again.

"Calvin I'm home" called my fathers voice from the front door.

Slowly making my way to the front of the house again I looked up at him expressionless.

"I got a call from your school today" he said looking at the muddy footprints that led to the kitchen.

"Buddy what did I tell you? No shoes in the house"

"Sorry" I mumbled out before taking your shoes off and placing them by the door.

My father, William Gray, was a business man who worked out deals with big company's I guess. I've never been to his work or seen anything he's done but he tells me amazing stories about it.

"Hello?" My father said pulling me out of my daze.

"Why did you draw a murder scene in art class today?" He asked while silently tapping his finger on the granite countertop of the kitchen island.

"I don't know" I whispered.

"Well I don't want to see it again, you understand?"

"Yes"

This was the third time this week that I had gotten in trouble at school yet my dad never really seemed to get mad at me for it. Maybe it was because he felt bad that I had to grow up without a mother? I didn't know, I also didn't know why I drew a murder scene. I didn't have a reason, not even a thought, I just seemed to space out as I painted the blood splatters in bright red acrylic paint. I wasn't always like this, I had my good days and bad days.

Walking upstairs my father followed behind me, already taking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. I circled around the railing and made my way down the hallway to my room. Laying on my bed I wished I could find some alternate universe to fly to, to make the pain stop hurting, to make the memories forgotten. Curling up in my bed I heard a knock on the open door.

"Hey, how about we go get something to eat?" He always spoke so gentle with me, like I would break by a single harsh tone.

I got up from my space themed sheets and followed him as I made my way to the car.

Buckling my seatbelt my dad slowly drove through the rain that fell down from the gloomy clouds above.

"Your 12th birthday is coming up in a couple weeks! Anything your going to ask for?" He smiled at me while his eyes stayed on the road.

"Mom back" I answered.

The car fell silent, neither one of us dared speak a word. I saw my dads hands tense around the stirring wheel. The pain consumed me again, coming full force as I turned and looked out the window of the car so I didn't have to face my dad.

The rest of the way I struggled to breathe and keep my cool, trying not to loose it in front of my dad. The pain of mom passing away was still to fresh, how was he so okay with it? How was he so calm? How can he just go about his day like nothing happened?

Several questions popped into my head as I thought about why he didn't seem to be hurting as much as I was.

We where all there the night of the accident so why didn't it affect him the way it scarred me?

"Calvin" he whispered "please don't bring this up again" I nodded in response.

I didn't want to go through this right now, I just wanted to eat and go home to sleep.

We had consumed fast food almost every night since we ran out of funeral leftovers. The taste of it was numb in my mouth as the flavor no longer existed from previous consumption on prior nights. My father on the other hand seemed to have no problem with it as he snarfed his food down.

My eyes where never taken off of the window as I sat shotgun in his old ford pickup truck. The rain pounced on the exterior of the car while the interior sat untouched. I thought about how the outside could only take so much before in the inside caved in along with it.

My father said he would never replace this car no matter how much money he made. He said it held sentimental value from when times where much simpler. I had always thought he meant before mom died and when they where still dating but I never asked him why.

I scratched my dirty blonde hair before taking a drink of the orange soda I was drinking. Rolling down my window I dumped the rest of it out in the parking spot next to us. I couldn't taste it and it would make my teeth orange and that was something my mom always hated.

The truck started as my dad finished his food and pulled it into drive.

The rain picked up as the wind threw it harder against the wind shield. Thrashing around like a wild animal the rain pounded endlessly against the paint of the truck until we made it home.

Thanking my dad for dinner as I drug my feet down the hallway to my room and peeling off my wet clothes. I placed on some gym shorts before climbing into bed and looking up at the ceiling. Remembering her shiny blonde hair and her honey golden eyes brought tears to my face as I closed my eyes and maneuvered my way into a dreamless sleep.