He took me to and old park by an old abandoned school. He didn't say much the walk there, just stared at the ground smoking a cigarette.
When we got there he ran and sat on some rustic looking swings and motioned me over.
"What are we going here?" I asked.
"Nothing," he got up and swung himself on a pole, "well actually I wanted to tell you about myself."
"Why," I blatantly asked even though I know why, "you know you don't have to explain yourself to me."
"Yeah of course but I want to, you've become my best friend." He blushed.
"You're mine too," I blurted out.
"Well that's good to know," he smiles, "well to start, i was raised in an orphanage, moving around from foster home to foster home around the country until I turned 18. Never really had a good life, you know. Moving from family to family that show no emotion for you. It was tough. Now I'm 19 and here, talking to you," he continues explaining small details that couldn't be expressed with words but emotions that he uses.
"Wow, what a life. Where do you live now?" I ask.
"In an apartment near the warehouse I met you at." He answers.
"Oh."
"It's good though, it's not great but it's good enough." He explains.
"Yeah I know what you mean. I had to live an apartment worse than mine right now with my uncle Bert and his wife. Money was tight with my family so I had to live with them. But honestly it was great. They were great people before.." I stopped, choked up on the memory.
The green eyed boy who showed actual concern asks, rubbing my arm. "Before what?" He stops, looking into my eyes and says "It's okay you can tell me."
Swallowing my sorrow I listen to him like a puppy in training. "Well, a while back my dad owned an ice cream shop and everything was pretty cool, but one day I guess my aunt Lucy accidentally left a machine on over night and it over heated and my uncle and his wife went to open up the store and... It just happened. The whole place was in flames and when we got there everything... Everyone, was gone."
He gave me a sympathetic look before starting a sorrowful, "I'm sorry."
I managed to choke out a simple, "it's fine, it's all in the past..just a memory now."
Little did he know that memory haunted my dreams when I'm asleep and my daydreams when I'm awake.
Hello I'm not dead, here's another chapter. Bye.
YOU ARE READING
Memories of a dream *discontinued
Teen Fiction*story is discontinued Scarlett Miller. 17. My family has disowned me, I live on my own, Also a High-school Dropout. Scarlett Miller is a 17 year old girl who lives on her own in the city of Manhattan. Her family kicked her out so she now has to st...
