Do you swear you won't forget me? By Crunch

The last chapter! No, I don't want to leave!!

Thanks again soooooooo much to all you guys who reviewed!!!! Keep doin' it!

Doll Face: I am your fan for life! You rock, thank you soooooooooo much! Keep writing and reading!

Anna belle: Yay, you really like it! Thanks for reviewing, I'd almost decided not to finish! Ahh, behold the power of the reviewer.

Thanks also to Reffy, deemarie, and Raider. You guys rock so much! * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My eyes flickered to the embroidered plaque mounted above the heads of the review board; a single splash of color against an endless sea of gray. In a flourish of cursive letters, most likely stitched painfully by some aging wife waiting at home, it read:

May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

"Anthony Higgens." A surly voice shook me back to reality. The head reviewer, a strong and pompous elderly man, hard nosed with age like the rest of the parole board, peered at me from behind a thick stack of papers propped in his gnarled hands. In minutes my fate would be sealed in those papers; freedom or banishment. "The purpose of this conference is to determine whether or not you are mentally stable enough to be released into society. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." I licked my lips, suddenly dry as the Sahara.

"Very well, then. Mr. Higgins, tell us, do you feel you are ready?"

"Ready, sir?"

"Ready to leave Pleasant Grove." Here we go.

"Yes, sir. I - I aint nevah been more ready in me life." Was I speaking to fast? Did I sound too anxious? One wrong move, just one, and I would never get out.

"I see." Thoughtfully he stroked an old polished wood cane as he shuffled through my file. "You were experiencing.. paranoid delusions and hallucinations?"

"No. Well, I was, sir, but not anymore. You see, I just needed someone to help me through.. " How to explain Doc? "A year before I tried ta jump from da bridge, somethin' happened. Somethin' I didn't remembah, an' I didn't want to. But I think part of me knew dat I needed to remembah.." The skeptical arch of his eybrow told me I wasn't making any sence, but it was too late to turn back now. "So, that's why I . . . imagined Doc. He helped me remembah what I needed to; he helped me face da stuff I couldn't face alone. I know dat he don't exist, he never did. He just helped, dat's all."

"Anthony, in times of trouble, we needn't turn to figments of our imagination. It is the Lord we must put out trust in." Give me a break. My freedom, my life was hanging on the line, and this chump wanted me to hail Mary?

"What, so youse is sayin' dat everything dat happened ta me, it all happened cos I pissed off da big guy upstairs?" A sneer broke through before I could stop myself.

"No, not necessarily. Sometimes we build our own Hells." I sniffed and stared out through the window overlooking the streets, into the deluge. The rain hustled assorted debris down the scoured cobblestones; newspaper pages, dried leaves, things the grounds keeper should have taken care of ages ago. All mixed together in a miniature broiling torrent that dissapeared into the gutters, like a thousand dreams lost.

"Is dat right. You evah been through hell, sir?" The man considered this stoically before answering.

"Yes. Yes I have, son. I fought in the war, until . ." He tapped the oak cane lightly against one lame, perpetually bandaged foot peeking out from under the desk. " I fought for God and for Country, and I - "

"Why?" The old man sat there for a moment, incredulous, regarding me like a small child who'd just asked where babies come from.

"Anthony, you have to believe in something."

"Is dat what youse think, sir? That I don't believe?" I knew I was walking a fine line, and beneath the tightrope lay an endless fate of mind numbing drugs and gray walls, but the words tumbled unchecked from my lips just the same. "You're wrong about dat. Of course, I'se believe in God. Youse can't come inta dis world, on da front steps of an orphanage, wrapped in a sheet swiped from da hoar house down da street, an' not believe. You can't make a livin' runing booze to a' bunch a' bummers who'd soak ya for an extra swig, when you'se 8 years old, an' not believe." The pitch of my voice grew steadily, like a doomed snowball rolling down hill. "And youse can't see your love killed in front a' youse, your whole world ripped to shreds, an' not believe. So yes, sir, I believe in God. An' I truly hate him."

(a/n * sorry!!)

The head reviewers quivering lips parted into a stunned "oh", like he'd just been smacked in the face. After a moment of stunned, excruciating silence, he spoke. "Well, Anthony, sadly we cannot help you with that. This is an assylum, not a church, and I believe we've done all that we could do." It seemed as if he were aging infront of my eyes, the years and memories leaving their marks across his face as he sighed. "Take care of yourself, son. The streets of heaven are far too crowded with children already."

"So.." I stood uncertaintly, heart beating in my throat. "So I could leave? I - I could go?"

"Yes. You're free to leave. Just have the guard stamp your papers on the way out. But remember Anthony- you have to believe in something."

*. *. *

That night, I stepped through the heavy iron doors of Pleasant Grove, reveling in the cool autumn breeze against my skin for the first time in 6 months. Free at last. For once, it wasn't raining, and standing there bathed in moonlight, I stared up at the millions of starry diamonds shining above me.

*The streets of heaven are far too crowded with children*

Slinging the frayed suitcase across my shoulder, and pressing the two bits I'd been given for bus fair into the moist surface of my palm, I turned my face away from the sky and moved on.

*You've got to believe in something*

And I do believe in something. I believe in Irish. And I believe she's waiting, with our little Marietta or Giovanni. And I believe someday I'll get the chance to tell her that I love her. I guess that's enough for now.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Yippee!!! (Crunch does a happy dance) It's finished! Finally! Hope you enjoyed that, keep reviewing! Maybe I'll write another one, who knows? (takes a bow as the curtain closes)