The last of the boxes are put into the truck. It was big and black; a ford. We walk up the slight hill of the drive way and get in. My dad starts the car and I watch as we roll back and leave the only home I had ever known. The inside used to be painted soft warm colours. It resembled the way the house felt but it mainly resembled they way mom felt. She didn't leave the word that way though. It's a such a shame it didn't happen in bed, in my fathers arms warm and soft. No, it was a rainy day. We were reading in the living room when she remembered we needed milk, eggs and vanilla to bake later on. So that when dad came home he'd have something sweet to eat. She was thoughtful and kind. So we left to go to the store. When the car in the oncoming lane hydroplaned into us. Killing her effortlessly like a giant anvil fell from the sky and crushed her into the earth. I feel like she died so I could live because all I had was some broken ribs and a bruised face and neck from the air bags deploying. I live and she lays in the ground waiting for us to return to her.

I find whenever something bad happens the first words you hear are a good ol' heart warming 'I'm sorry'. Like their apologies are somehow going to make the whole world okay again. Somehow through their fleeting eyes, loose hand shakes,and too tight hugs, the person you lost is going to walk through the front door and ask "Why are there people tracking mud onto my new carpet?" However, it doesn't work like that.

I remember the headlights blinding us momentarily before the air bags hit my face throwing me back into the car seat. I remember we went faster and the cars horn blaring. I remember my screaming cutting through the night. We were air born for what felt lie ten minutes. Pure weightlessness as we soared through the night. Then we hit the ground and everything went dark. The horn blaring woke me up. There was glass in my hair, glass in mums hair. Her curls were hanging away from her shoulders. Her arms dangling upside down. Blood dripping from her finger tip. Creamed coloured sweater a deep crimson fading into pink. I don't feel anything, just my heart in my ears. My right hand goes to the roof of the car while my left unbuckles my belt. I catch my weight and fall to the floor gently. Everything is buzzing, like someone turned me on vibrate.

" Mommy!" I cry I don't want to be move in case her back is hurt.
" Mommy!' I scream. I touch grab her hand it's warm and sticky.
"Somebody help us, SOMEBODY HELP US" I don't want to leave her.

The wind blows through the car, I feel alone. I feel it down to my core and somehow my heart just knows. My whole being just knows that she's not here. I want to run to safety but that place is her. She's my safety. I look to see if there's anybody around. I still hear the honking of a horn. I have to leave to get help. I push open the door and the metal scraps against the cement.

I remember another car coming down the street. It was a man and his girlfriend. The woman is a nurse I tell her about my mom, the man calls 911. I see the other car all mangled from hitting us. I see the body hanging out the window. His eyes are open unblinking. I remember the sirens, and the police showing up. I remember the nurse telling me how sorry she was. I don't get it at first, until I look into her eyes and then I'm sprinting back to the car; back to her. I run and get caught by a police officer. I remember screaming like a banshee trying to raise the dead. I remember calling for her like a witch chanting a spell. I fall in the officers arms. I can hear him telling me to breathe. Telling me he's sorry. I remember hating him.

Dad stops for a couple seconds and look at he house. Sighs turns to me and smiles. Its the same kind of smile I got at the funeral, and then at the house afterwards where we had snack so people could tell us how much they missed her and loved her laugh and thought she was so sweet and kind. Like we didn't know. Like we hadn't spent the past sixteen years with her. After that we covered up everything in the house the resembled us living in it. The dents and dings had been filled and smoothed out. The floor replaced where Donny held his senior party and people had done flaming shot. The marks on the doorway where we got out heights measured was replaced and the walls were painted white. We wiped up our existence HER existence like it was spilt milk. Like it was nothing to cry over.

At first I recognize everything. For a good hour or two I remember where we are I could find my way home if I needed to. Then by the third hour things become a little hazy somethings jog my memory but by the fourth hour I have no clue where we are. Everything new.

2 weeks later.

It was the middle of July now. I mainly stay inside the house. Sometimes I lay in the backyard or weed the old garden plots that had been left to decay. I wanted to plant lavender and a rose bush since there was a trellace by the back door. There were four trees in the backyard; two were apple two were pears. I was waiting for those to be fully done ripening so I could make jams, jellies, and pies.

Today however was hot. Hotter then the other days was at the precinct doing whatever a chief does. We were running low on groceries and since the plots had finally been all weeded I wanted to stop at the Home Depot to pick up some flowers to plant. It was also the perfect day to explore my neighbour hood. Maybe i'd walk up to the school and figure out the best route.

At the bus stop I was siting waiting for the number six to come when a boy dressed in all black sat down next to me. His hair was a sandy blonde a little on the dark side. It was long and hid his eyes. His skin was sun kissed and burnt in some places. He had handful of freckles scattered across his cheeks. I quickly realized I was staring when he whipped his head in my direction and made heavy eye contact with me.
" What are you looking at" he asked voice gruff and mean. It took me off guard that such a gentle face could have such a big bark.
" Obviously you, dumb ass" I responded. My old self would have probably squeaked but watching your mother die buries a bad seed in your heart, it changes every aspect of you.
" well don't" he bit
" It's a free fucking country, dude I can do whatever I want"I bit back.
" Didn't your mother ever teach you staring is rude" he asked voice full of boredom
" Yea but she's dead. So it's kind of free reign" I said al nonchalant . The dead mother card was a super power of sorts. Peoples face dropped and they sputtered for an apology or they just lost all there words entirely.
" O-oh shit" he looks away from me, up to the sky and then across the street watching the people walk in and out of the shops his face is scrunched up trying to work out his words I'm betting. After another couple seconds pass by he looks back at me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye and turn my head to look at him.
" What are you looking at?" I ask bringing our conversation full circle. His once mean façade slips for a second and he throws me a half smile.
" Obviously you, dumb ass" he jokes.
" I'm not the one who's wearing all black in 90 degree weather. Who are you, Blade?" I jest. He scoffs at me and pulls off the hood of his sweater.
" Aren't you the one who said it was a free country" he sassed
" Yes it is. Feel free to die of heat stroke, it's your choice" I quip.

In the distance I can hear someone calling out a name. I can't quite figure out what the name is or what the person looks like just that they're obviously yelling out. As the man gets closer the name becomes more clear and the boy setting next to me turns his head to look at the person coming towards us.

" JACK!" the man yells. The boy yells back and I now assume his name is Jack. I think it suits him rather well. He stands up to go meet the man just as the bus stops in front of me. Jack hearing the bus turns around and watches as I move to get on.
" Hey! Sorry about your mom." he calls out after me
" Hey! Sorry about your fashion choices" I yell back. I can hear him laughing and the man asking who I was.

I get on the bus and put my change in the counter. Maybe Detroit wouldn't be so bad.