Author's note: Just gonna quickly say if you've made it this far you rock and I love you.

I am dying to know what you think though so PLEASE comment.

Chapter Ten:

May 12 1952

This is it, Seymour thought pushing open the front door and stepping out into the spring morning.

He wasn't receiving a big send off. It was 7:00 and most of the boys were still sleeping. Mr. Mushnik wasn't picking him up either. Why would he? Seymour was leaving early so he'd have enough time to walk himself down to the shop before opening that morning. The first of many mornings he'd help Mr. Mushnik open.

He took several paces out the front door and looked back up at the building which had housed him for nearly 12 years. The place his mother died. The place he was cradled and rocked as a baby. The place he was constantly punched and taunted by other boys. The place which kept food in his belly. He didn't know whether to salute or spit.

He turned his back again and started for the chain link fence. A border that had served as a prison in the past now was his gateway to his new life.

Several more paces he glanced up again. Smiling, Seymour waved with one hand and unhooked the latch with the other. Immediately he was transported to the harsh reality of a New York street. He'd seen it before every day and even walked out on it a few times, but this seemed different. It was noisy and dirty. There were people bustling about, strangers he didn't know. It wasn't like his fantasy of leaving. He found himself all alone.

Is this home?

Is this what I must learn to believe in?

Try to find something good in this tragic place,

just in case I should stay here forever held in this empty space.

He shook his head and scowled. You're being ungrateful Seymour. What else could you wish for? It's not like you could have a family...

He was interrupted by the growl of an engine off somewhere in the distance. It was growing louder. With both his hands he covered his ears and looked for its source. Not too far down the road he saw a leather clad young man on a motorcycle. Entranced he took a step off the sidewalk for a better look. Then another. He had grown far too close.

"WATCH IT!" he shouted just barely missing Seymour.

Startled, Seymour took several steps back and hooked his heel on the curb, falling backwards down on the sidewalk. He sat there startled for a moment and climbed up, dusting himself off.

Seymour smiled. This street and this city was his new life. This is where he should learn to be happy. He turned around and looked one more time up at the Home, illuminated in the morning sun, and turned his back for good.

Credit to Alan Menkin, Howard Ashman, Tim Rice, and Beauty and the Beast for the lyrics from "Home"