I leaned against the door of the school roof.

Rain poured down in droves, soaking my uniform.

It had been a year since I last hoped of a good life.

It had been a year since I had but one good dream.

Every dream nowadays... I don't remember exactly what they're about, except that I always wake up a little teary-eyed.

I reached into my pocket. Good. They left my wallet this time.

Next week, I may not be so lucky.

Fortunately, the bruises don't hurt much nowadays.

Maybe I'm getting used to it? I should be. They've called me out every week for the past year. If the pain was as strong as that very first day, I should be more than worried.

Fortunately, there's absolutely nothing to be worried about. The beatings hurt a lot less now, after all.

I should be fine for the rest of the year.

I'll be just fine.

I tried getting up. No good. My whole body ached.

I suppose I'll just sit here,

and soak in the rain for a while...

___

I was finally home.

I wish they left some money in the wallet. What use is a wallet without money? If those guys were gonna leave my wallet, they could've been just a little more considerate and leave just enough for a bus ride home! I suppose I shouldn't complain, though.

After all, I was lucky today. And, I got a good walk in too. Gotta get my exercise in somehow.

It was already evening, and the air was cold and the neighborhood damp.

When I entered through the front gate, I remembered that I was supposed to give the service guy a call today.

How could I forget! The walls were about to fall over! They'll crumble at this rate!

It's alright, I assured myself. I'll give him a call tomorrow. Hopefully the school will lend me a phone.

I thought about people nearby who could lend me a phone to use.

I drew a blank. If only...

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

No use complaining though, huh?

I realize I complain a lot.

That's a habit I should be wary of.

I climbed into my house. It smelled of aging carpet and lavender. I looked at the table.

That was strange. Normally, Mom doesn't leave her medications scattered all over like that. If that were me, she would've been on my case in an instant, given she had the strength.

I looked at the counter. There was a cup of green tea, cold.

Mom left her evening tea?

I stood still for a moment.

I ran to her room. I knocked on the door and called for her.

"Mom! Mom!" I yelled.

No response.

I broke in.

I saw her. She was laying on her bed with eyes closed.

I knew she wasn't sleeping.

___

I held the hand of my mother.

Emergency services arrived. Very quickly and very loudly, they asked if I was okay. I told them I was fine. A little cold, maybe. They shot me a strange look.

They told me to please move out of the way. I heard and processed their instructions, but for some reason, my body didn't move.

My hand didn't let go of Mom's, either. Why was I being so stubborn? It was unfortunate, but her time had passed, and all that's left was to allow procedures to take their regular course.

I knew that. I saw that. Yet, why didn't I do that?

I felt like I was looking through a strange looking glass. I felt like I was watching myself from the outside looking in.

Somebody placed their hand on my shoulder.

Through that looking glass, I watched myself lash out violently. It was a very strange sight. Then, I lost consciouness

Both the me there,

and the me here.

___

I woke up in a hospital room.

The staff there kindly explained to me what was going on. I remember nodding, but I don't remember anything they said.

A couple of days later, they released me.

Before I left, I asked if I could see my mother.

They kindly allowed it. I met with my mother's relatives. They were planning the funeral.

I asked them if they were going to pour perfume on her.

They asked, "what do you mean?"

I told them, Mom loved sweet fragrances. I think she would like it if she passed on with a little elegance, I told them.

They nodded. Then, they asked me, what fragrance do you suggest?

Lavender, I told them.

They smiled warmly.

___

On the way home post-discharge, I thought about a lot of things.

About Mom, my life, and my circumstances.

What will become of me?

Will I move?

I lingered on that question a little longer. "Will I move," huh...

My heart warmed a little from the thought. I imagined those bullies fading away like mist.

Then I remembered I shouldn't be too greedy. Remember, high expectations lead to disappointment! Don't want to make that mistake again.

There was a little boy not too far from me. He was holding hands with his parents. He was smiling. He was enjoying life.

I smiled warmly at the sight, yet my body moved the opposite direction in protest.

___

When I finally got home, it was evening again. Aunt Jasmine gave me enough pocket change for thirty bus trips, but I chose to walk home.

I hung outside the house. The wall had collapsed.

Ah.

Well, there's no use complaining.

Just gotta deal with it.

I'm lucky that the whole house didn't fall apart.

I paused.

Something felt strange. My mental chatter felt different. For the first time in my life, my own thoughts felt foreign.

What was going on? It was probably the shock. After all, they say that people go through five stages of grief. This may be one of them.

Yet...

I felt like I wasn't making any sense.

It was a feeling similar to finding out someone lied to you.

Except it was much more personal.

I brushed it off. Grief was a strange thing.

I took a deep breath. Whatever troubles fall my way, I can get through anything with a little perseverence! I told myself.

Mom toughened through everything. I can too.

Right! This was no problem!

Just a little perseverence was what I needed. Just a little belief, and strength.

If not strength, then the will to move forward despite weakness.

That's what I'll harness.

Life wasn't over yet.

I reassured myself of this as a car suddenly slammed into me.