This is my first attempt at writing, not really a major CSI: Miami thing.
William George Conroy DeLay
That's my name, but no-one calls me that.
It's William, or George, or even Conroy.
But they didn't know that.
Those police officers.
I ask where my parents are.
The man with the red hair, he bends down on one knee and looks me in the eyes.
He tells me there was an incident, with my parents; he tries to soften the subject.
I tell him to tell me the truth.
I tell him not to sugar-coat it.
I may be a child, I may be only 8, but I'm not stupid.
I didn't cry; what's the use.
William George Conroy DeLay
He uses my full name.
It brings me to remember the few times it had been used.
When I broke something expensive, I'm sorry about the TV.
When I got in trouble at school, I didn't start the fight, I finished it.
When I came home crying, they stole my ball.
When I came home to find police on my doorstep.
William George Conroy DeLay
I think of all the times it'll be used in the future.
When I meet my foster parents.
When I make new friends.
When I enter high school.
When I don't do my homework.
When I graduate.
When I enter collage.
When I have my first job interview.
And all those after that.
When I meet a girl.
When I meet the girl.
And her family, her parents.
When I join MDPD, The Miami-Dade Police Department.
In dedication to the man who caught my parents killer.
And that's the last time I use that name.
Because, quite frankly, I never liked that name anyway, now it's Samuel James Terrace.
I'm a new person.
With a family of my own.
A son, a wife, a job.
A life, one they'll never see, but that's ok, because I know they're up there waiting.