Trespasser

Chapter 6

^^^^^^^^ Thanks for, even when I lose my drive, I read your stories and I feel the need to write again.  :)

I sprinted all the way back to my orphanage room.  My roommate was out, as always, doing God knows what.  Kurt was…interesting, to say the least.  He gets back at midnight every night, sleeps till noon, and then goes out all day (and the cycle repeats.)  You can’t really blame the kid, though.  I hear he used to be the sweetest little thing, like the “orphanage pet”, but after 10 years of being here, with potential parents passing you by because you’re 17, it just kinda sucks the life out of you.  No families seem to want us older kids.  Me, I’m 15.  I’m a black sheep too.  They just want the cute little kids, innocent and bright eyed.  I guess they don’t want the job of dealing with teenage angst, drama, and overall just a harder to deal with kid.

But isn’t that the point of taking in an adopted child? To care for them, even when their own parents couldn’t anymore?  This is the life all of us teenage orphans seem to live.  Watching and waiting as our lives go by, parentless.  Just like those sweet, but ugly, blind, flea-ridden dogs you find at animal shelters.  With a few baths, trips to the doctor, and lots of love, they’re good as new (almost, they’re still blind) again.  But no, people just pass by the fixer-uppers and go for the penthouse.

Anyway…

I was sitting on my bed, staring at my hands.  I saw no difference than yesterday.  I took off my shoes and socks, and looked at my feet.  Still the same.  What happened to me?

Of course, when I was staring at my feet, my shoes and socks precariously thrown around the room, was when Kurt happened to walk in.  Great time to come back at a normal hour.  For once!

“Hey man did you know that—Umm, what’s…up?” Kurt stared at me questioningly.

“Oh, you know…just chilling.” I quickly put my socks back on and regained a somewhat normal position.

“Okay… Well, anyway, did you know that if you sit in the middle of the sidewalk that people start to give you weird looks?” Kurt said with a nonchalant expression on his face.

“No, I didn’t.  But I’m definitely not surprised that you did that.”  I chuckled, not realizing what I said until it was too late.  The bomb had detonated.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you insulting me?” Kurt yelled, grabbing me by my shirt.

Did I mention that Kurt’s bipolar?

“No, man, you’re awesome! Only awesome people do things like that…” I trailed off with a big fake smile.

“Oh, ok! Thanks man! I’m gonna take a nap.” He released me and laid down on his bed and closed his eyes.

That boy never ceases to amaze me, I thought, shaking my head.

I laid down on my bed also, and stared at the ceiling.  I let out a deep sigh. 

And then, in my head, I wrote a letter to my mother.

Dear Mom,

It’s me, Sean.  I hope you’re up there, satisfied with me.  The last thing I want to be is a disappointment.  But Mom, I’m confused.  And scared.  What does this power mean for me?  Why am I discovering it now?  Why do I even have it in the first place?  Can you answer these?  Or at least guide me to find the answers myself. 

How are you up there?  I miss you.

I reached a hand to my face after feeling a thin warm trail of water, and I realized I was crying.

It’s my fault.  It’s my fault you died.  I know you wouldn’t let me think that, but it’s true.  I killed you.  And Dad.  I don’t know how to live with myself, Mom.  Will you forgive me?

At that moment, I felt the sunlight from my window move to rest on me.  I was instantly filled with a feeling of warmth, physically and mentally.

I smiled.

Thanks, Mom.

Signed,

Sean.