I do not own Love Song. Five for Fighting does. I do not own Golden Sun. Camelot does.

Love Song

by: Akiko Date

Nothing lasted forever.

Especially not the summer, which seemed like everlasting days of lemonade sunlight spilling down into the backyard, catching faerie dust in the shafts piercing through the branches of the big tree.

It was a little backyard, but it was full of enchantment.

Alex was so immersed in that backyard, in the days full of sunshine, that he didn't realize what was going on until the leaves drifted lazily from the trees and he had to spend more time inside, covering the walls in crayon drawings of their family.

One morning he woke up and their mom was gone, and he started to cry.

Put away your tears and your sleepy eyes

Put away that bull shit

Big boys they don't cry to their mamas.

She'll be back soon

"Be a big boy. Set an example for your sister."

And part of him was oddly satisfied that his father called him a "big boy", even if his tone had been angry. But another part of him was kind of scared. He wasn't sure if he was ready to be a "big boy" yet.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to "set an example" for Mia. She was only four after all, and he was only six. And six wasn't old enough to not cry for his mom. Six was barely old enough to protect Mia from the long arm under the bed and the monster in the closet.

Put away your raincoat and make your bed

Take another bullet right to your head

Now, we're going on a picnic

And we'll get there soon

Picnics when he was five had been fun. He'd play tag with Mia, her short three year old legs not fast enough to catch him unless he let her. He'd lean against his mom and she'd stroke his hair that she didn't ever want to cut.

But now picnics were few, with long spaces of time between them. They didn't even have picnics in their living room anymore.

When they did go to the park their dad would talk on his cell phone and their mom would pass out the food in a distracted sort of way.

And she says, "Maybe it's over."

He says, "There's plenty more fish in the sea."

I say, "Don't go away from me."

He first heard the words when he was sneaking into the kitchen to get more crayons. To draw their family, happy like they used to be.

After that he could never draw his dad next to his mom.

But they were never very far apart. After all, it was only a "maybe."

Put away your dinner and have a snack

Tie your little brother up in a sack

Now we're moving to the country

And we'll get there soon

Alex was seven when they moved. They said it was so they could grow up in open air and wide spaces. Alex heard his mom talking to their grandma. It was really just to get away from the city, so that they had a chance.

He was excited. They were trying, it had to count for something.

She says, "Now pack up all the things that you don't deserve.

Take another swing, well here comes a curve ball

I bet you can't hit it

'Cause you swing too soon."

But then the screaming started.

When Alex was eight, he still hoped.

But he knew deep down inside that it wasn't going to work.

And she says, "Maybe it's over."

He says, "There's plenty more fish in the sea."

I say, "Don't go away

Don't go away

Please don't go away from me."

Their dad started staying out late. Later than they were allowed to stay up. And when he got back Alex would hear sounds that made him want to cry, and he could hear them yelling even when he was hiding under his blankets with his pillow over his head.

Afterwards, his mom, tears streaming down her face but still smiling would come and pull the blanket down and hold him for a while, stroking the hair she had finally cut, like she used to do during those picnics a long time ago.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. You don't have to hide."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, baby."

But can you take it to heart?

I'll never leave you

Alex knew there was something wrong when Mom left in tears one day. He clutched Mia's smaller hand tightly.

"Well? Take those pictures down!" their father snapped at them. "She's going to be here soon!"

"Who?" Alex asked in a shaky voice.

"Your new mom."

Take those damn pictures off of that shelf

Put away your mama, found you new one

She'll be here soon

And she had been there soon, her heavily lined lips sneering at their worn furniture and the crayon drawings he still hadn't taken down. Their father put one of his large, rough hands on her thin waist and led her into the kitchen. They saw him use his other hand to tear the pictures off of the fridge, the magnets scattering over the linoleum floor. Going under the fridge and the dining room table still covered by Grandma's lace tablecloth, and onto the faded blue carpet in the living room.

And she says, "My God it's over."

He says, "I found another fish in the sea."

I say "Why me?

Why me?

Why me?"

She leaned in close when she saw Alex drawing another picture. Of his family. Without his dad.

"Where am I in the picture?" she asked.

His blue crayon was so worn down it couldn't have hurt much when he threw it in her made up face.

His father sent him to his room anyway. He hid under his blankets and pretended like everything was going to be okay. Like his mother would come back at any moment and pull down the covers, smile, and tell him there was nothing to hide from.

But only his father came, telling him to act like a man.

And he knew for certain that at eight, he wasn't old enough to be a man.

"Why is it me?"