Still no clue

No home

"Have you got all your stuff packed yet Turner?" Mum asks sadly, looking around the corner into my room.
"Nearly" I answer, pulling out the left over books from the cupboard.
I just don't understand, how can people be so cruel? I mean we are broke, but we're going through a hard time and we just can't pay the rent. We used the last of the money to pay for Dads funeral.

I miss him so much.

'Turner? Are you ok?'

Yeah I guess. I'm just thinking about...

'Dad. I know, I miss him to.'

You never knew him.

'I know, but I'm just trying to cheer you up.'

Thanks.

'Anytime'

"Turner? Who are you talking to?" A voice questions, its Mum. She's standing at the door with a pile of boxes and a puzzled expression. "Ahhhh, no-one? Oh, I was talking to... Fred!" I exclaim, yanking my old, childhood teddy bear out of a box. Mum frowns and laughs, before walking of.

'Phew, that was close!'

Yeah.

'Let's take your boxes to the van.'

Ok.

I pick up the boxes, take one last look at the room that had sheltered me for the past 6 years and follow Mum outside.
I look back, just as our car drives away, 'you've been a good house, I'll miss you' I whisper as the car turns the corner of our street, for the last time.