CH 2: Day Trip to Memories

PRESENT-DAY

L.S.F.Y.C (Lost Souls For Young Children)

Los Angeles, California

A chilly breeze from the outside filled the building's interior while boxes were being moved. The sound of brooms sweeping and things being moved continued to go on, while more kids helped clean. "Where do you want this, Ms. Harris?" asked one kid, holding an old picture. She pointed to a room close in her direction. The boy followed. Today was a special occasion for the youth. Ms. Harris made this program to relieve any stress on any kid's mind. She called it: "The Annual Soul Cleansing Program". The foundation anniversary of the L.S.F.Y.C. This meant that all the kids pitched in and cleaned the foster home for the day and carried out fun activities. Ms. Harris cared a lot for children; whether it be physical or mental health, feeding them, or even giving them a place to stay. Something like today was most definitely required. Most didn't dislike the idea, but she always would have to press some kids — especially the one with the violet-streaked hair.

DAX POV

The sun shone brightly while the wind danced within the leaves of the trees. I was currently sitting inside a treehouse behind the foster home that was built years ago, enjoying Mother Nature's aroma. The array of sunlight gleamed on my face while the breeze infused it. The breeze controlled the leaves as they took turns leaving and entering the treehouse.

I sighed in relaxation. "Nothin' beats better than smoking a new pack of Newports." As I reached into my jacket pocket, I pulled out the white and green box. The box was new, as the clear sealing wrapper smeared alongside my fingers, while I tried to tear away the plastic. After a few attempts, I removed the seal and took out a newly untempered cigarette. "Damn plastic," I grumbled. I then heard someone climbing up the treehouse's ladder. I quickly stuffed the cigarette and the box into my jacket pocket. As the bottom door opened, a boy with brown hair (wrapped in a small ponytail), a tannish jacket, and green eyes appeared smiling at me.

"Dude, you can't just show up randomly like that, you could've been someone else," I remarked, regaining control of my breath. "Anyway, you got it?"

The boy looked around the same age as me. I met him a few years back when I was getting comfortable living at the foster home. It turns out, he's the only one who knows I smoke. He promised not to tell anyone under one condition: I'd get him a girlfriend. As crazy as it sounds, his deal worked out.

"Uh-huh," He said, as he closed the bottom door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple lighter. I grabbed it while he took a seat next to the treehouse window. "Seriously, you're gonna get lung cancer if you keep this up, haha."

"Relax, Turner. I get you're just looking out for my well-being, but I have seen no signs of that, anyway. Plus, lung cancer doesn't mean a thing to me. Whatever happens, happens." I lit up the lighter by giving it a few flicks. Eventually, it started up and lit the butt of the cigarette. Holding the lit object in my mouth, I offered Turner the Newport box; he simply declined, respectfully.

As the minutes passed, the silence of the room grew. Turner and I would always come up here to escape the other kids when they played or did activities. It was mainly built for the older kids, but we had it all to ourselves since most of them barely use it. It'd usually be more of us—about 2-3—but I guess they're helping with the event. I haven't made a lot of friends here, but it's nice to have people around that you're cool with. Interceding in silence, Turner got up and stretched.

"Anywho, my mission is complete," he said jokingly. "I'm gonna help with the decorations for tonight's party. Ya' coming?" I inhaled another puff before answering the question. "I don't know, man..." I answered, exhaling the smoke. "You know how I am with these types of things…" I looked up and saw his face in a more 'disappointing' look. I could tell my answer didn't satisfy. He read me like an open book.

Turner sighed. "Look man, I'm not gonna tell you how to deal with these types of things, but it's been 2 years. You'd think he'd like it if you were just cooped up in here missing out on everything? It is hard, believe me, but you gotta learn to move on. Letting that hold you back isn't healthy — especially if you're in here smoking like an eternal campfire."

"Not helping."

"Sorry. But all I'm trying to say is: step out of your shell. Enjoy tonight, even if it doesn't go how you expect it to be!"

I couldn't lie, his words helped a little. I was still in the crossfire of this decision, with little-to-no ammo to defend my main thought. We'd always do things together. Hell, we've had the spotlight hang over our heads, like a halo fitting over an angel. We felt like rich kings that ruled their kingdom. It's hard to move on when you can't get over that feeling. Especially if it's someone you care deeply about.

"Well, as I stated before, I'm gonna head out. Reflect on what I told you. See ya." He opened the bottom door and exited the treehouse. Again, I was left alone. I inhaled another puff into the cigarette and exhaled, resulting in coughing. I looked out the window and up at the sky, reflecting on what Turner had told me.

"Sorry. But all I'm trying to say is: step out of your shell. Enjoy tonight, even if it doesn't go how you expect it to be!"

"Step out of my shell, huh?" I looked at the cigarette and rubbed the butt onto the wooden ledge of the window till the small ignited flakes went out. "Screw it, only live once," I said, giving myself a small smile. I blew the ashes out of the treehouse watching the wind slowly take them away. I threw away the cigarette into the small trash can that sat in the corner and then headed towards the floor door.

Before heading out, I gave one more good look around the treehouse. Quickly capturing the memories I shared in the private haven where I could escape reality. After a few moments, I leave the treehouse, touching nature's symbol. I skimmed myself to make sure no trace of cigarette ash was on me. Heading to the home, decorations were placed all around the place. Purple and pink colors were wrapped outside the trees and on the house's roof. Even inside it was hectic. Children rippled back and forth from the house still getting things together; carrying boxes, ribbons, and food.

Lost in their hurry, something touched my shoulder. "Busy, isn't it?", a woman laughed. I turned to see an average-height woman, in her yellow blazer, along with her beige skirt. Finally, finishing with her perfect smile. The woman who brought all of us together; our mom, in a way. She lit up smiles on our faces and always made us feel better about ourselves. Despite our backgrounds, she never cared what happened to us in the past. She took us in and treated us like her own children. She would do anything to make us feel at home. Our Yen Harris.

"Seems I didn't have to drag you outta that tree house this time, huh?" She gazed down at me. "Came to help?" Looking around, the kids were finally finishing up the remaining decorations and started setting up the table. "Looks like they finished it already", I smiled. Harris grinned.

"Follow me, Dax", she said, taking her hand off my shoulder.

She trailed into the hallway and signaled her finger to follow. I walked behind her and we entered her room. Only a few kids were allowed in her room, only because she didn't want the kids to see the stuff she planned for them and some other things as well. She pulled out an old brown box under her bed and opened it. "You know it's been 17 years since I created this place, right?" I nodded. Harris then pulled out an old picture. It looked run down and had black spots on it, but you could still make out what was on it. It was one of those old pics where you had to shake the image to get the outcome. She handed it to me. I couldn't help but just bluntly stare at the memorable thing.

"When I first adopted you two, you both were with me when I had this crazy idea. You both supported me when I tried my hardest to make this dream possible."

Eyes remaining on the photo, nostalgia hit me as slow moments replayed in my mind. It showed a younger me and a long-time friend sleeping on a couch. This brought back a lot of memories. When we played together. Ate together. Fought together. We even slept together. Sure, Ms. Harris adopted us, but Jay was my first friend. No–my brother. Remaining silent, I gently clutched the corner of the photo.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't miss him too, Dax. It's already been 2 years since he's been gone. Both of you are very special to me. I won't have all of this if you two haven't pushed me into my goal." She then closed the box and slid it back under her bed. I still silently examined the photo. I could tell that her eyes were hawking down on me. Suddenly, I felt two hands touch my shoulders.

"Y'know, nothing's stopping you from writing him a letter? Tomorrow morning seems like a good time to start. Whaddya think?" Her words. Her reassurance. Consistently coming in and putting ease on my thoughts. She was most definitely the best mom.

"I'll… think about it", I responded, averting my eyes. She smiled. Harris then got up and walked to the doorway. "You can keep the picture. Take it as a little 'thank you gift' from way back then. Also, I think everything's set up, we should go before they eat everything", she chuckled. I gently put the picture in my pocket and followed her out the door.

We were walking down the hall, but I couldn't seem to stay focused. "Y'know, nothing's stopping you from writing him a letter? Tomorrow morning seems like a good time to start. Whaddya think?" A letter, huh? What would I even say? Would he even read it? I used to write to him when he first got sent to the detention center but stopped because I never got one back. Then again, it was hard to receive letters there. I should know.

"MS. HARRIS! EVERYTHING IS SET!"

Taken out of thought, the kids shouted and started crowding Harris. They jumped frantically and dragged her towards the table. "Ok, Ok, Skye!", she joyfully laughed. "Everyone gather around the table and let's get this party started!" She turned on some music from the old boom box sitting on the table and the party quickly began. The music roared throughout the entire house. Kids danced and danced like their blood tampered with sugar. Everything was perfect. The setting was just how it was back then.

It was a sight to see the kids having fun. No worries in sight. No mishaps in their untainted childhood; just them living their lives. It was indeed a sight to see. The mood was set perfectly for them. Everyone here deserved it.

"Shouldn't be spacing out on us, man."

Surprised, I turned to see Turner, holding two plates of cake. He offered one to me and I gladly accepted it. Turner took a bite out of his while I examined mine. "Vanilla?" He nodded. I ate a piece, it was delicious. I continued eating and Turner and I chatted about the party. A lot of the kids took part in many activities. Director Lucas–the program director of the L.S.F.Y.C, hosted a drawing contest. It was quite wholesome. Other activities like finger painting, dance contests, limbo dancing, treat tasting, and so much more! Even though these activities were nothing new, they still treated it like it was their first time experiencing them.

Still consuming my cake, my mind felt at ease. This is probably what I needed; a day of relaxation to calm these wild thoughts. Seeing everyone have a great time and forgetting their troubles helps ease mine. I couldn't help but smile. "There's that smile," Turner laughed. Turning to him blushing, I excessively punched his arm.

"Ohhh, you look so cute when you're blushing. Makes your purple streak pop out~", Jake snickered, rubbing his arm. "Shut the hell up. Go talk to Brianna and make out in a corner. Dickhead." Turner laughed. "I would've, but she's busy talking to her girlfriends. I'm gonna let her enjoy her time for a while." I rolled my eyes and got back to eating my cake. I had to admit, the setting did make me happy. I guess he was right when he told me just to relax and ease my mind. Tch. Who would've thought this idiot would be right…

The party continued to go on. Kids consumed food and ran around playing. Everyone sang and continued doing activities that pleased them. Later on, the party came to a close. Sooner or later, some kids got tired. I figured I would carry them to their rooms for the night; they partied like it was their last. Putting more kids to bed, a yawn crept upon my throat. Entering a room, I sat another kid down and I looked over at his alarm clock on the nightstand.

2: 42 AM

"Jeez, and this party is still going on." Groaning and rubbing my head, I gently sat on one child's bed, resting my body forward. Attempting to clear my head, I felt something touch my arm. I looked over and saw this boy tugging on my vest. He was an 8-year-old boy with green eyes that was filled with concern. "Dax… are you ok?" My body suddenly went stiff. Am I ok? I built up a smile and rubbed his head. "I'm perfectly fine, Zeke. Head to sleep now. I'm sure Ms. Harris wouldn't want you up this late at night." I grabbed his blankets, tucking him back into the bed. A few seconds later, he was out cold. Taking my leave, I turned off the lights and exited the room.

Heading back to the party, I was drawn back to Zeke's question. "Dax… are you ok?" I rubbed my temples in circles. It's getting worse. Only a few people here know, if the kids find out, then I'm screwed… "Fuck me. I need a cigarette." Reaching the main lobby, to my surprise, I spotted Ms. Harris and a few teens cleaning up. Looking around, everything looked like a wreck. Confetti and dropped cake were left everywhere. Toys, streamers, you name it. Kids will be kids. Looking over to my right, my eyes lowered in annoyance. To my surprise, I found Turner passed out snoring on top of a table. Walking over, I ignorantly stared and sighed at the brown-haired boy.

"Hey, dunce…" I paused, raising my fist.

"...WAKE UP!" I slammed my fist directly into his stomach. He abruptly jumped off the table, clutching his stomach. "THE HELL'S YOUR DEAL?! I WAS SLEEPING!"

"Yeah, where we eat. I don't need to taste your ass when I'm eating. Where did Brianna go? Headed to sleep?"

Turner rubbed his head, following up with a yawn. "Yeah… she got tired. I didn't even get my goodnight kisses from her. Wanna kiss me to make up for my–"

I slowly raised my fist and gave him an intimidating stare. His face quickly turned regretful, as he got up slowly, clutching his stomach. "I'm… heading to my room. Goodnight," Turner waved as he trod out of the lobby. I couldn't help but shake my head. "Night, idiot." Exiting the lobby, a few more of the teens did the same. The lobby slowly looked like its old self. Seems like they were ready to sleep. However, Miss Harris continued to clean the remaining tables. I walked over to her, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Y'know, I don't mind helping you clean. You've done a lot today."

"I understand your concern, Dax, but I can handle this. You've already helped me out by putting the kids to sleep. We both know that would've been a hassle," she chuckled, not taking her eyes off her task.

I suppose she was right. Everybody knows that putting these kids to sleep was a tough mission–one that took some balls to have. Glad this party tired all of them out. "Still though, I feel like I should at least help you with something…" I sat down at the table.

Miss Harris paused her cleaning and caressed her chin. She chuckled. "Well~ I left my blazer over there–" she pointed at the kitchen top counter. "-Mind putting that in my room for me? After this, I'm passing out, hah." My face grimaced. Though I couldn't be mad; I asked for this.

"Well, if it gets your job done quicker, then don't worry about it." I stood up and took a good back stretch. Before I could walk out, Miss Harris spoke out.

"Oh, and you should also head to sleep too. You got a letter to write tomorrow, remember? Y'know if you don't mind?" A letter, eh? "Mmm… I'll return your jacket to your room and head to sleep, ok?" I responded, giving her a joyful smile. "Thank you, Dax. Goodnight, and sleep well." She then got back to cleaning, leaving an empty lobby to herself.

I grabbed the blazer and headed toward the room. It was pretty late; most of the kids were probably asleep by now. What a day this has been. I couldn't wait to pass out in my room and doze off into nothingness. Like my bed was craving my body to be in it–and I couldn't blame it. Finally reaching Miss Harris' room, I opened it and went straight to her closet. The closet was open and engrossed with clothes and shoe boxes. Even though she was a busy woman, she somehow always gathered up a lot of outfits. Though her room was quite spacious, her closet resembled otherwise. Moving shoe boxes out the way, I grabbed a clothing hanger and carefully racketed the blazer. I set it back into the heap of clothing and moved everything back to its origin.

"Man, she should look into cleaning this. If she didn't send me to put her blazer away, someone most definitely would've gotten lost here." Right after, I set for the door. My bed was screaming my name. Grabbing the handle, I stood there for a minute retracing Harris' words. "You got a letter to write tomorrow, remember? Y'know if you don't mind?" I never agreed on doing that… Why was she pressing me to write a letter to him? I missed him… but a letter is kinda farfetched. My mind was at gunpoint. I clutched the handle and opened the door. "Yeah that's what I need, sleep. Maybe this thought will disappear and I could regain peace." I exited the room and closed the door.

A couple of minutes later, I swiftly entered my room. Carelessly threw my clothes on the ground, alongside the food wrappers, cigarette boxes, and more clothes. Probably should clean the room later. I threw on a purple nightshirt, along with some all-black basketball shorts, turned off the light, and crawled into bed. "What a night." Amidst the quietness, my ceiling caught my attention. The letter topic couldn't leave my mind. I turned over to my right to see an empty bed piled with baskets and other items. The bed that used to accompany a once lively person. The room became lifeless without him. Sure friends came around and chilled in here, but it wasn't the same.

A frown took upon me. I just need to go to sleep. Looking at my clock on the wall, it read 3:30 AM. I forcefully closed my eyes, as I attempted to draw my mind blank. The thoughts still beat on my brain like a drunken drummer. As annoyed as it has gotten, I knew I couldn't sleep peacefully without a solution to this problem. Throwing the blankets off of me, I stretched my arm out to my nearby drawer and pulled out a pencil and a sheet of paper. I placed it on top of the drawer and climbed back into the sheets.

"No promises that I'm gonna fill something out. Just doing this so my mind could rest." Closing my eyes, my mind which was once on a spree, finally ceased. Before I knew it, I was already aboard the train to Dreamville. The L.S.F.Y.C was now quiet. Their day finally ended, and it would return to normal in just a few hours.