...chapters of my life... musings of my mind...: David Morgan was fourteen years old, when his parents got killed in front of him. He's trying to live on... He's trying to forget... But these nightmares are always there. Why did his parents got kill...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-----
After that horrible night, I showered for almost an hour. I placed my hands on the shower tiles high above my head. This time I let hot water run down my entire body and over my head. I was still frightened. I tried not to think about what happened to me the night before.
Again, as I did so many times in the past, I tried to keep myself busy. I tried to focus on getting ready. I had the appointment with my parent's lawyer at 3p.m. And it already was almost noon.
I got dressed and ate Aunt Kathy's food. I still had all my clothes in my bags and so I carried them to the front door. After I was all done, I went through the entire house one last time. I didn't plan to ever coming back, once I left. So, I went from room to room to collect stuff I wanted to take with me: documents, money and pictures. I packed a third bag and put everything in. I didn't pack any clothes, because my old ones didn't fit me anymore anyway. And I didn't need my parent's clothes anymore. After I was sure I packed everything important, I left. I locked the front door and the big gate in front of the house. I didn't look back.
I had called another cab, because I didn't have a driver's license back then and I didn't want to use the public transportation, because I had three huge bags to carry. I planned that after I had the meeting with the lawyer, I would check into a hotel until I found a new place.
So, as I entered my parent's lawyer's office, I carried three full bags. Jeff Peterson was already waiting for me. I let the bags drop to the floor and shook his hand.
"David Morgan."
"Hello, Mister Morgan. Jeff Peterson. Good to finally meet you. Please, take a seat."
I sat down. Jeff Peterson, or his secretary, prepared a bottle of water and two classes. He was sitting behind a big table and had a lot of papers and folders spread out in front of him.
"As I told you over the phone Mister Morgan..."
"Please, call me David."
"Okay, David, look, now that you're eighteen, you inherit everything your parents owned. I just needed to see you in person, because I'm going to need a few signatures from you. But at first, I would like to go over all the items. As you probably know, your father was the owner of his company. In fact, he owned about forty-five percent of the entire company. When he... passed away... his share in the company got sold. So, you no longer are involved in your father's former business, but of course, you inherit the revenue. And we're talking about a pretty huge number there..."
He turned a folder and slid it over to me a little bit. He had his index finger on, apparently, the current amount of money I now owned. Let's just say I was shocked. And let's just say the number had eight figures.
Oh boy.
He put the first folder to the side and took another one. He opened it up and started skimming over the text.
