It wasn't until years later that I decided to research just what all brought about the decision to make me a cyborg. What I found out was surprisingly shocking. According to the medical records I had faxed over, there was no possible way to identify my body among the rubble. My face was deconstructed, my dental records near-unidentifiable, any sort of fingerprints were damaged, and my vital signs were all over the place. In order to save the life of a Mister John Doe, they decided to perform an experimental procedure to bring me back to life.

I could go into detail about the actual procedure itself, but I think I might make myself a bit queasy just rambling on about it. Besides, that's not either here nor there.

Now, back to the part where I was just about to be released to the hospital.

Eventually, I was released from the hospital after recovering for a while. Since they had no record of any relatives and couldn't get anything from me because of my fuzzy memory, Lindbergh was kind enough to drive me out of the hospital in his company car ("I got it from my uncle," he explained to me later) and to my house. I wanted to show my mother (by then already becoming a memory) that I was all right, and that I had made a new friend while I was in the hospital.

Unfortunately, Mom was out of the house that day, and the door was locked.

"Darn," I said in defeat after fiddling with the doorknob for a while.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" my kiwi companion asked me. "This is your home, right? Maybe I took a wrong turn somewhere back there."

I nodded in his direction, searching under the mat for a spare key. My search was rewarded.

"It looks like a nice place, Michael," Lindbergh commented to me.

"Wait until you see the inside," I said as I unlocked the front door and let the two of us in.

"Gee, it is a nice place!" he exclaimed, looking around.

A smile crept on my face. I was finally home. After countless days of being in the hospital, I was finally home. I sat down on the couch. It felt good to be back.

Lindbergh was looking at the pictures on the wall. "Is this your mom?" he asked.

I walked over to him and looked at the picture that he was observing. In that picture, my mother and I were standing side by side, smiling at the camera. "Yes," I answered after taking it all in. "That's my mother and myself in that picture."

"Wow, both of you sure look happy." The kiwi turned to me. "Where's your father?"

I paused, trying to remember what happened to my father, but all I drew was a blank. "… I guess… I guess I've never had a father," I admitted to him. "For as long as I remember, it's been just me and my mom living together. She raised me all by herself. I think..."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," he consoled. "Your mom must be pretty amazing."

"Yes," I said with a smile and a nod, "she truly is amazing."

The attention of my friend shifted to a door that was partially open. "What's this?" he wondered out loud, opening the door. He gasped with excitement. "Neat! Is this your room?"

I looked into the room in question. Lindbergh was right, the room that he found was my old room. Everything was still in place, just as I remembered it. The only thing that changed was the calendar.

"Wait a minute…" I was beginning to realize something. "Lindbergh, how long was I in the hospital?"

The kiwi looked at the calendar. "About a month, maybe?" he replied. "And that's probably more, depending on the time I was hired to help fix you. Why do you ask?"

"I want to know if I missed graduation or not," I told him, rummaging around in the drawers of my desk for the written speech that I had prepared.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but school let out about a long time ago."

Lindbergh helped me up off the floor after I had sunk to my knees in shock. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I could not believe it. That lab accident didn't just hurt me physically, but academically as well. Without graduating from high school, I couldn't go onto college and earn a degree. As if things weren't already bad enough…

The sound of a throat clearing made me turn my head. Something had caught his eye. "Michael… there's something I think you should know…" My companion grabbed a newspaper from the top of my desk and held the title up for me to read.

"Local High School Student Lost in Explosion" was one of the headlines.

"They think that you're dead," Lindbergh said to me.

I sat down on my old bed as I let all of the information sink in. No… it couldn't be possible, they couldn't think that I was dead.

"And… the hospital could only get so much information out of you," my friend confessed, sitting down beside me. "That's why they called you John Doe. I'm sorry, Michael."

My answer to him didn't come right away. I was in a deep state of disbelief. Everyone thought I was dead, the hospital only knew my first name, I hadn't graduated from high school, and to top it all off, I had been turned into a cybernetic being for the remainder of my life.

Lindbergh patted me on the shoulder. "You want me to leave you alone right now?" he questioned.

I mumbled something to him that had hardly any meaning whatsoever, even to me. I lied down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling and pondering the events that had happened. Lindbergh ended up sitting at the foot of my bed, offering his condolences until I couldn't hear them anymore.

~o~o~

I must've fallen asleep sometime later, because next thing I knew, Lindbergh was shaking me awake. "Michael, wake up," he whispered to me. "Your mom's home."

Immediately, I sat up in bed. "Mom?" I repeated.

"Yeah," the kiwi said quietly. "I don't think she saw me, but she might suspect that something's up! Didn't you say that you wanted to see her again?"

I looked down at my hands, pondering my options. I did want to see her again, but how would she react? Would she be happy to see me alive, or would she reject me?

"Here she comes!" Lindbergh warned, scurrying back from checking outside my room door.

I moved to do something, but I wasn't sure what to do. I thought to myself, Should I hide, or should I do something else like-?

"Who's there?" a female voice called out in slight alarm.

I froze in place. I didn't know what else to do but to meet Mom face to face.

Footsteps were heard coming closer to the room until they came to a halt. It was at this time that I turned myself around to face the doorway.

"… Mom?" I questioned almost wordlessly, stepping closer to her.

She backed away out of confusion and fear. "Who are you?" my mother asked in a voice above a whisper. "How did you get in here?"

"Mom, it's me," I told her, "your son, Michael."

My mom had a look of disbelief. "… no," she finally said after regaining her train of thought. "This can't be happening. They told me you were…"

"I'm alive, Mother," I said to her, coming closer. "Please… give me a chance to explain myself."

"They said that... that you were lost in the explosion! Why should I believe you!?"

"Mom!" I didn't like raising my voice, but she was acting a bit hysterical. She had every right to, of course, but I still wanted to make her see that it was really her son talking to her. "If I offer a piece of knowledge that only the real Michael Lloyd Scott would know, would you hear me out?"

"Lloyd?" Mom repeated, her voice hushed.

I was busy searching my memory banks for anything that would make her see the truth. "When I was younger, I... I made that imaginary friend. The shape-shifter? What was his name-?"

A hand stopped me from continuing. My mother nodded, removed her hand and asked me to explain things.

Tears formed in my mother's eyes out of a mix of emotions as I began to tell my story to her. She seemed confused and upset, like she couldn't believe what was happening.

"… and then Lindbergh and I came here so that you would know that I was all right, Mom," I finished in a comforting voice. "I wanted you to know that I was alive and well, that's all."

My mother cried as she hugged me in happiness. "My baby," she said through the tears. "I… I can't believe this. It's like you've come back from the dead."

A warm smile came upon my face as I hugged her back. "I know, Mom," I told her. "It's been difficult for me to believe all of this as well."

Neither of us spoke for a while. We were just so glad to see each other again after all that we've been through that we couldn't think of more words to speak.

"Awww…"

I turned to see a sniffling Lindbergh watching us, a tissue box close at hand. He stared back at us in surprise when he found out that we were looking at him. Clearing his throat, the kiwi went over to my mother and presented her with the tissue box. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Michael's Mom," he said in a friendly voice. "Need a tissue?"

"It's nice to meet you too, Lindbergh," Mom replied, a warm smile on her face. "Thank you for helping my son."

The bird blushed (though it was hard to tell with the feathers in the way). "Aw, it was nothing, Mrs. S," my friend said back. "Anything for a friend, really."

I smiled as I observed my mother and my friend as they chatted with each other. They were getting along just well for two people who've just met. It seemed as if they were old friends by the time the chat started to wind down.

Good thing too, since I had just remembered an important matter that was needed to be discussed. "Mom, what'll I do now that I'm… like this?" I asked her.

"Sweetie," she said to me, "you'll be fine. I know it pains me to say this, but… now that you've finished your schooling, I think it's time that you live on your own."

Since everyone in town thought I was deceased, that meant that I had to go to a different city, possibly a different state, to begin my new life. "But… that means I might never see you again."

Mom held back more tears. "Michael… it's just like I've always tell you: You can do it. You just have to believe in yourself."

I was choked up at this point. "I just got back, Mom," I told her. "I don't want to leave now."

"And what if you stayed?" Mom sat back down on my bed, trying to compose herself. "Honey... as much as I'm so overjoyed that you're back, not everyone will know how to react to you now. I don't even know if I can take watching you..." She bit her lip. "Michael, I only want what's best for you. Even if it means leaving..."

I glanced away, away from her nearly-quivering form and over to framed pictures of how things used to be. She was right. I wasn't the same boy the townspeople used to know. I had changed, transformed against my will into some horrifying creature (to most people) that would have me ran out of town even the moment that I tried to tell them who I really was...

A feathered hand patted me on the back. "Hey, it'll be all right," the owner of the wing told me. "Besides, I'll be with you."

"I'm sure you and Lindbergh will be fine," my mother said, a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks.

I hugged my mother again. "I promise to write when I can," I told her, trying to prevent the tears from flowing. "When I remember, at least."

"Promise me you'll be okay," she said back, looking at me straight into the eyes.

Trying to keep from crying myself (if I even still had tear ducts then), I looked back at her. "I promise, Mom."

Those were some of the last words I ever said to her. After that, Mother and Lindbergh helped me pack my things and loaded them in the back seat of my friend's car. I hugged my mother one last time before getting into the car, driving off into the sunset and leaving behind the life I once knew so I could begin a new life.

Shakespeare was right. Parting is such sweet sorrow.