Pavane for a Lost Boy (Or Rather, How to Survive Loss after Rejection)

Chapter Sixty-One

DREAM SEQUENCE

I used to think that life and death was like saying hello and goodbye, as if one person gets off from a train ride and has to wait a long time for the next one to arrive and the earth was like one living and breathing station where people would be waiting for the next journey of their lives.

And after being shot at the gala, I was now caught in between the land of the living and the railways that led me to the afterlife and what awaited for me there. I can't say that me being shot to death wasn't a surprise since I didn't intend to die at all, not after my "failed attempt to end my life" with my old famiily abandoning me and all that. And even though Ryan Peavey and Theo Blake were unglued after everyone abandoning them for making my world come unglued with revealing my dark past; I guess you can say that the duo did teach me some things in regards of this complicated world. I learned that life can be chaotic for those who are rejected for being weaker and abandoned to die. But while others usually lament and undergo pity parties, there are some who dare to rise above their situations and dare to defy the boundaries set against them.

I learned that for every failure, there is victory ahead and vice-versa. People can be cruel yet there's always some goodness in some who want to see people come out of the shadows. And while society always favor the top dogs and powerhouses, there's going to be some people who admire a good Cinderella story and want to fight for the underdogs.

I even learned that even when you give the world the best you have and they end up kicking you in the teeth, you got to fight on and continue to present the world the best you have. And that you have to dream big when others try to shoot you down.

I learned so much about everything after my suicide attempt that I didn't think it would be possible to come out stronger after I had been dealt a bad hand with the past- being rejected by a family who hated me because I was a love child, losing my parents and siblings to a car wreck before being left with nothing but my mother's contempt and hatred of me, and me facing a possibility of homelessness that had me considering ending it all so I wouldn't be dealt with more failures. If I had ended it all, I wouldn't have met so many faces who had believed in me and wished me the best in life, rediscovered the hidden music in my heart, regained my  true purpose, and even fell in love with a transgender young man who continuously lives in his truth. But most of all, I knew that I wouldn't have known who was fake and who was truly real.

My life wasn't charmed, I'll admit, but at least I did regained some of my worth and was content with leaving this world and-

"Demario, don't let go of this world, child. Don't close your eyes. It's not your time just yet," a sweet older woman's voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

"Your grandma's right, boy," came an older man's voice that was sharp yet kind. "You still have people who still wish you the best. Don't let your music end."

A flash of bright light enveloped me and I was now back at the old apartment that was my prison, only this time the furniture and trappings that my ex-relatives took was back in place and I was now in the kitchen and staring at the three people that were the root of everything.

Grandma Lottie Mae and Grandpa Joseph Ingram, both dressed in their Sunday best that they were buried in, were sitting at the table, both of them giving me sad smiles.

And at the countertop near the sink, dressed in her Baby Phat ensemble and her perm still fresh, was my mother Vivian Emmeline Ingram-Bader as she had a nonchalant look on her face as she crossed her arms. "Hello, Demario," she said crisply. "Take a seat."

I did so, sitting across from Grandma and Grandpa.

"First off, you're not dead in case you're wondering," my mother said crisply. "And as much as I hate to say it, you do have people who do give a damn about you and want you to come back."