Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon or any of the concept and/or characters. The only characters I do own are Carey and Damien.

Author Note(s): A. If you are offended by stories about gay people, it's best for you not to read this story. B. Damien's POV returns!

Chapter Four:

Forbidden Memories

It's only been a day since I fled from Carey's house, but I'm already starving. I didn't bring any gold with me, so I can't dine out and I can't buy groceries. After the hail stopped, I snuck into the library at closing time and fell asleep in the upstairs room.

The next morning, I wake up to screaming. Mary almost has a heart attack when she sees me.

"How'd you get in here?" she screams, startling me. I literally leap into the air.

"I slept in here overnight!" I cry. "I ran away from my sister's farm, and couldn't find a place to stay." Mary frowns,

"You should've told me, I would've gladly given you my bed. I've slept on the couch before." She says. "It's way better than sleeping on the floor."

I smile. I figured that she'd call the police, but she's very polite about it. She offers me breakfast with her family. (Don't tell Carey this, but Anna is a way better cook than she is.) Basil lets me borrow one of his recent books on farming techniques. It turns out that he'd just gotten it published last month. I wonder why I never saw Basil Books in the bookstore in my old town…

I thank Mary and her family for the breakfast and set out. I know exactly where I'm going.

Before long, I am on a long trail, heading out of Mineral Town. I finally see the sign, "You Are Entering Gemini Town." It seems like forever since I was last in Gemini. The first building I spot is the Dante's Diner. My family and I used to eat out every Sunday for lunch, and Dante's Diner was the best place in town. I keep walking, for I know I'm getting closer to my destination.

This is it, my old house. It looks the way it did when we left it. It appears like someone still resides there, but we never sold it. We could have, to get extra gold, but we decided not to. It would be too heartbreaking. I walk up the steps that lead to the door. Do I really have the heart to do this?

I walk in. I feel a rush of familiarity as I stride through a whole mess of memories. I sit on the couch and almost fall through. We never did get around to getting a new couch. Finished with the living room, I ascend the stairs in hopes of finding my bedroom in mint condition. My door opens and my bedroom is trashed. It was like that all the time. I flop onto the bed, and feel the spring poking at my back; once again it always did that.

After soaking up the memories, I enter my most dreaded (as of now) room, my parents' bedroom. Something catches my eye immediately. I spot my family's photo album, sitting on the bed. I open it up, and search the entire book, leaving a teardrop on what seemed like each page. There is a slip of notebook paper in the very back pocket of the album. I unfold it. It's from my mother's diary, I can instantly tell because of its flower design. I scan the page, but it is not a diary entry, but a letter.

"Damien,

If you are reading this, please forgive me. Tonight, your father and I are going on a date. While driving, I'm going to deliberately crash the car, in hopes of killing both your father and I. I simply cannot take it anymore. It isn't right for my son to be gay. God had a plan for you, and it wasn't for you to have a relationship with the same sex. I blame myself for this; I shouldn't have ever had you, Damien. You were a mistake. It was all so sudden. Thoughts of suicide crossed my mind, but I couldn't but something like that on Carey when she was that age. I'm sorry that I have to put this on you, Damien. I hope you understand why I cannot end this letter with "I love you. Farewell, and good luck with whatever life you shall live.

Brenda Jameson

"Your Mother""

I try not to let my emotions loose. I refold the paper and place it in my pocket. There is nothing more painful than to find out that your mother never wanted you. I hold my old pillow close to me, and cry on it. I used to do this exact action when mom and dad fought. I thought that when they went on that date, they were making up… apparently I was wrong…

The door opens, and my heart blocks my ability to breathe. A boy is standing in the doorway.

"I don't know who you are, but…" he pauses. "Damien?" I recognize the voice.

"Seth?" I respond.