"Mom, it was all my fault. If I could, I'd hitch a ride in the doctor's TARDIS, go back in time and prevent any of this from happening." I said. Even as I referenced one of my favorite TV shows that always made me laugh, I knew this was the one time my strategy had failed. If possible, I felt even worse than before. I felt a presence behind me and only turned around because I feared it would be my dad. No, my dad never visited my mother's grave and I last saw him recovering from a nasty gash on the side of his head. So who was behind me? I turned around and saw a boy about my age, maybe a year or two older. He gave me a pitying expression and knelled down next to me. What did he want? Couldn't he tell I just wanted to be alone? "Is that your mom?" The boy asked and pointed to my mother's grave. I held my composure enough to say, "Yes, and I'm the one that put her there."