This chapter goes out to all my kind reviewers, so I hope you enjoy. And don't forget to review and tell me what you think.

Chapter 7

Present

It was the next day and my mother never came home. But I was used to her doing that a great deal. And I hated it. I hated her. I hated her for leaving me alone like that. I hated her for not caring or even noticing when I myself could be in moral danger. She was the parent. She's supposed to be looking after me.

When I watch TV i see all these corny shows with the 'happy little families,' and the 'perfect little kids' coming home to the smiling faces of their mothers. With her asking a bunch of pointless questions about their day over a plate of homemade chocolate-chip cookies. And as stupid as it may sound, that's what I want! I just want her to see me and care. To look and me and say that she loves me with all her heart and that I'm her world. But it never happens. And I hate her for it. I hate her for not loving me like a parent should. And it hurts me, because I feel that hate. I feel it just as I'm sure she does too.

I'll look back on this day and never will I grasp how I just stood there, doing nothing as my life fell apart piece by piece. The officers came and told me what happened. But I wouldn't hear them. I didn't want to. I just couldn't begin to allow myself to believe what was being thrown into my face. The words spilt forward, about the accident, about the spinning and the fire. And all I could do was stand there, feeling so lost and alone. I couldn't help myself, because I couldn't help her. She was gone now. Mommy was gone. And all I could do was listen. Listen to the story of it being recited before me. The story I wanted ever so much to mute out. If only I could will myself to just turn and slam the door on this harsh truth, keeping it outside. Keeping it blocked away from me by door and lock. But truths go everywhere, whether you want them there or not. I can seal and bolt up every opening to the house and the truth will still be there, laughing at my failing attempts to run. So I won't run. I can't. Running can't save me now.

I'm hardly aware of what's going on around me. I know I'm getting into a car and we're driving away. But I don't know where I'm going and I don't know whom I'm going with. All I know is that I'm leaving. There's a blinking light on the dashboard of the car. It's flashing the time and date. And I feel like it's mocking me. 8:31AM Friday, August 13th. The date looks familiar, and then I know why. It's my birthday. I was born today. Instead of any gifts given to me, I lost my greatest gift of all. I lost the only thing I had.

No one knows where my dad is. And even if they did he wouldn't take me. He'd say he was just 'way too busy'. And that'll be that.

Thinking hurt, but I couldn't stop the overflowing thoughts running through my mind. The one that replayed most often, dancing around in my mind making me feel so stupid, was the fact that I was wrong. I was an idiot. I know that now. And it doesn't even matter. She didn't have to say she loved me for it to be true. She was my mother! How could she not? And I don't hate her! I could never hate her! I was just mad. So mad. And now she's gone. Gone thinking that her only child, her daughter hated her. I made her feel as though I hated her worth everything she had. And now she'll never know. The lady I was with in the car just looked at me in pity as I whispered "happy birthday, Alisa" then gently hummed that same song that everyone hears on his or her birthday. That same little tune.