I woke up in a bedroom. The walls were a dark green, there was a small night stand to the right of the bed. Where am I? What happened? And What a weird dream. I don't go to parties or raves cause, well, that's just not good for you. Did one of my friends find a way to talk me into it? No girl next to me on the bed. One question answered. There was a window to my left. Maybe If I go for a fly I'll see where I am. It's just barely sunrise, mom will be ticked, but she'll get over it. I sat up on the edge of the bed stretched out my wings. Wait. I stood up and almost fell over before I sat back down. Right, it's all coming back to me. The accident, the operation, the gangster, the Dogs, the fight, the Millers. My father. I think I'm going to die of grief.
I was in my jeans, so I put my shirt on and headed downstairs. I smelled eggs and bacon cooking. I heard Mrs. Miller talking to her husband. "Should we tell him?" "No if she wants to tell him she will tell him." I decided to clear my throat and walk the rest of the way down. They were looking at me as I entered the kitchen. Mr. Miller was sitting at the tiny kitchen table, while Mrs. Millers was at the little stove island cooking what my nose identified earlier. The dogs walking around the little island like breakfast sharks.
Mr. Millers spoke first, "How'd ya sleep, bud?" I replied, "Not as good as I would've liked." Mrs. Millers smiled and said, "Well, breakfast is ready. Please go ahead and help yourself. I'll go drag Nicole outta bed." She ran upstairs, leaving me alone with her husband. I sat in the chair across from him. He looked at me, as if trying to read my thoughts. "Gabriel," He said, "I want to tell you a story." I nodded and said, "Uh, O.K. Shoot"
"I had a good friend in college. He had a really rough life. His father was a drunk, and abused him every step of the way. His mother lost him in the divorce; how exactly I'll never know. His father said he would never amount to anything. He had to do everything himself. He finally got emancipated and started his own life. Got to college all by himself." He got up and got two plates of food as he was talking. He set one plate down beside me. I would thank him, but I hooked on to his story. "Anyway, on the last week of his last year, He received a call. I'll never forget his face. He dropped everything and went to his father's house. As it turned out, it was his mother. She was calling him to ask him to join her in getting revenge on the old drunk. She was traumatized. She somehow figured that everything that happened to her was because of him." I took a moment to think about this. I asked, "Did he do it?"
He shook his head, "Nope. Police found the poor guy dead on the highway. The Mom wanted revenge so bad, when her son stood in her way: she killed him; and in her sorrow she killed herself right then and there. A week later the father died of an overdose." I thought about this some more. I said, "Why would he do that? After all the father did, he tried to save his life? Even when the Dad was going to die anyway?" Millers shrugged and said, "It's a mystery."
I hadn't realized it but he finished his plate of food, while I haven't touched mine. He picked up his plate put in the sink and walked away, saying "Just some food for thought." As I began to slowly eat my food, he walked to the door and called out, "Honey! I'm going to work!" The Mrs. called back, "O.K. Hun! Be careful!" I heard someone run downstairs and Nicole's voice say, "Bye Daddy." I could almost feel them embrace in a hug. I heard the door open then shut and someone walk into the kitchen. "Oh, Hey glad to see you're up. Hows Mom's cooking? I totally understand if you feel like bolting through the door right now." An 'I heard that!' escaped from the upstairs. "It's great." I said. She got her plate and sat down. She was wearing a loose light brown shirt and some fuzzy looking green long johns. After a moment in silence, she said, "Hey, later we're going to go shopping for some clothes you can wear." I almost choked and started coughing. Nicole sprung up and was rubbing my back beside me in an instant. "Geez, are you O.K.? You don't hate shopping that much do you?" She went to pore some O.J. (Orange Juice) and set it on the table next to my plate. "No it's just that.......I never went shopping. Someone else would read a teen fashion magazine, see what was in stile, and go out to buy it. Anything that was 'So two weeks ago' would go to Good Will." She raised an eyebrow. She said, "Your kidding right?" "Wish I was." She shook her head. "Well, I guess there's a first for everything."
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