Disclaimer: I love D-tent, but as if they'll ever be mine! (hugs Zero tightly and brandishes Holes DVD) STAND BACK, I'M ARMED.

These Kids

I'm Not Giving Up

(ZERO-BASED. FROM HIS MOTHER'S POV.)

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Where can he be?

I've been looking for my little son, Hector, for months. I've got a job and an apartment that I'm not even renting. It's mine. Well, ours. It belongs to Hector too.

If only I can find him...

I rush off back home from work to get dressed in more comfortable clothes.

It's time for my daily hour search for Hector.

Things have a habit of disappearing when you need it most. My wallet's suddenly gone and I'm poring through all my things to find it again.

Something falls out of one of my oldest bags; I've had it even before Hector was born.

It's a photograph of him. And me.

I fully intend to shove it back in and continue my search for my wallet, but I look at it a second too long and suddenly I can't tear my eyes away. Hector was only two when the photo was taken. He's grinning up at the camera, his stubbornly untidy brown locks falling into his dark eyes.

I bite my lip and try to put it down, but I can't.

I'm smiling in the picture. Smiling happily. I haven't been happy since. Content, maybe... but not happy.

Suddenly, I don't feel like taking my regular walk around the block, hoping to see a small boy of about twelve lurking around. He'd definitely be lurking. Hector was never one to be parading around cheerfully. Even when he was happy, which didn't happen very often, the most he'd show would be a smile. He was quiet and shy, and I guess it's my fault. He's never been with kids his age and he rarely spoke to anyone. Not even to me.

But I loved him with everything I had and he loved me back; we both knew that. I'd hug him close and kiss him, and he'd rest his small head against my chest and murmur, "I love you, mummy..."

I drop the photo and stand up shakily. Then quite suddenly, I drop onto my bed and let out a sigh of exhaustion.

Every now and then, I'll fall into a moment of reflection. A reflection of my life. I think about all the things I've done and everything I haven't done. I think about Hector and what I wouldn't give to have him back. I think about where in the world he is.

My best option is that he's in a foster home. That makes me relaxed and sad at the same time. Relaxed because at least I know that he's safe and being looked after. Sad because I know that I'll most likely never see him again. I won't be allowed to, because I wasn't a good enough mother.

Sometimes, a horrifying and sickening feeling comes over me that he might be dead.

But I always assure myself that Hector's alive and healthy, and one day, I'll have him back in my arms.

If he is in a foster home, then it's all my fault. Heck, wherever he is at the moment, it's all my fault anyway. I shouldn't have left him there on that cursed day, where I fell unconscious on my way to "try and make a better life for me and my son".

I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive myself.

If I don't see him again, I never will forgive myself.

Hector was the best thing that ever happened to me and now he's gone. Have you ever had that happen to you? Just think, the best thing that happens to you and suddenly, it's disappeared.

You could say I had an okay life. Everyone fights, shoves and pushes to be the most popular at high school, and that's no exception for my friends and I. We weren't at the top of the ladder, but we sure were close.

Number one first mistake.

Popularity isn't something you can play with. There's a fine line between being well-known and loved, and being the school's biggest slut.

Unfortunately, I belonged to the latter.

During those days, it all felt like we'd live like that forever. Our only problems was who was showing more leg than us. You need real friends at high school, or you'll never survive. Temporary alliances work out alright, but you need close friends who'll watch your back.

People always say how a person turns out is mostly affected by family. Well, I had no real family. When I was eleven, my parents died and I went to live with my auntie and uncle who had three other kids, all in primary school. Typically, I was ignored a lot so they had no idea what I was up to at school and all those late nights.

They clothed, fed and provided for me, but other than that, we may as well have been total strangers. My little cousins were a bit wary of me, but I got along okay with the oldest one.

When I was eighteen, I got pregnant. I didn't mean to, but it happened. And when it did, my fun-filled life crumbled. Luckily, I finished school before my pregnancy got any more serious, and graduated. The father-of-my-baby completely freaked out and left me to deal with it by myself.

Jackass.

The painful memories are almost too much for me and I walk to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water.

It was then when I realised how many "friends" I actually had. Three out of a bunch of about fifteen. Looking back now, I'm not sure what kind of "fun" we had when we were together. Certainly not the fun like in primary, when us little school girls would squeal and laugh endlessly over nothing.

My aunt and uncle were disappointed in me, but like I said before, I wasn't much of a worry to them. So what if I was their niece? I was officially an adult and capable of taking care of myself. They had to worry about the little ones. The oldest girl, Shailey, was getting into a lot of trouble at school. She was much more important than me, the confused niece who was pregnant.

My aunt suggested I get an abortion, and my uncle agreed. But I didn't want to. I was scared out of my mind and I had no idea what I wanted to do.

When we finally went to the GP, he said that it was miracle I even conceived.

He said there was a very slim chance I'd ever conceive again.

I knew I was a bit of a party girl, but one day I did want to settle down, get married, and have kids. Start a family. But now this doctor was telling me the little fetus in my stomach was possibly the only child I'll ever have.

That did it. I was going to keep the baby.

I never would've survived those nine months without my three best friends. They did everything for me. They looked up stuff and provided me lots of things to help with my pregnancy. Theresa even gave me a big fat cheque.

Despite it all, those memories are cloudy now.

When I gave birth, I fell in love. With who? My little son, Hector Zeroni.

My aunt and uncle became considerably warmer when the new arrival came, but it was clear they wanted me out of their house. My uncle offered me a job and my aunt helped me find a nice apartment I could rent.

It was hard.

And it just got worse when my cousin Shailey committed suicide. My aunt and uncle couldn't handle her death very well, and neither could Miguel and Tina, her younger brother and sister.

I left their house of mourning and grievance and into the apartment I knew I could never keep up with the rent.

My relatives weren't very much to me. It was obvious they never really loved me in any way, and I was never too close to my cousins either, but I still felt like I was leaving everything behind.

And all I had was Hector.

I managed for two years as a single, young mother. At the time, they felt like the worst two years of my life. But there was more to come.

To this day, I'm still not sure of the reason why Shailey killed herself. It's not like I stuck around the house and demanded to see the note she had written. In fact, I'm not sure even sure there was a note. I hated seeing my "family" as they were, crying for a family member, so I left as quickly as I could after offering all my sympathy.

Sometimes, though, I sort of understand what pressure Shailey must have felt. As I sat on the worn streets holding my precious two-year-old in my arms, hoping to keep him and myself warm, I know that she must've felt awful and there was nothing to live for.

But I've never felt that far, because I lived for Hector.

We both became homeless and I had no one to turn to. Out of my three best friends, I only had one left. One had gotten married and moved on with her life, probably thinking high school friends were too low to think about. The other had moved away to Canada or something.

And then it felt like I had no one, and I was no one.

If it wasn't for my son, I'd probably be dead.

After I've gulped down the icy water, I lie on the sofa in the living room and close my eyes. Absently, I take a pillow and hug it in my arms. I pretend it's my son.

I remember the joy of teaching Hector how to walk and talk. Funny the things that could make you happy. I remember the delight when Hector grinned and said, "MAMA!" I still feel slightly lightened when I think about it. Believe it or not, Hector was pretty talkative when he was three-years-old. He stopped after we got evicted, though, and... I'm sorry it's so.

Because kids say the darnest things and I've missed out on enjoying Hector's little talks. He became so quiet and independent, that I wondered if it was natural in a child. He could even take care of himself when he was four.

He was twelve when I left him at that park, so that means... we survived on the streets and shelters for ten years.

They weren't ten long years, nor years that passed by in a blink of the eye. It was just a normal, lengthy, period of time.

I took Hector to the park a lot and encouraged him to play with the other children. I wanted him to be like a normal child, even though he didn't come from a average and respectable family. I knew that most people would not like the background he had, even though I loved him more than air. It's just human nature for people to judge by appearances, which was mainly why I was so set on making myself and Hector look presentable. I just wanted to feel accepted.

We stayed at Theresa's apartment for a little while, but she had her own life and I knew I was just a burden to her. I had to create a life as well, to look after myself and my son. No one can say I didn't try, because I did. I got temp jobs but it was hard for me to look after Hector at the same time. Sometimes, Theresa would babysit for him (free of charge), but mostly, I left him alone. I knew he didn't like it. He'd get this sad look in his eyes whenever I told him I had to leave for a couple of hours.

So that's when I took him to the toy store and let him pick one toy that he wanted, so that he wouldn't feel so alone all the time.

I left Theresa's place when I couldn't take it anymore. I felt like I was this huge hole in her life and I was just dragging her down with me. So I left the only shelter I had. And welcomed my son to life on the streets.

Suddenly, I get the bursting inspiration to look for my son again. I will find him. I have to.

I stand up and put on a jacket. I grab my purse and find my wallet in there. I smile slightly.

God isn't that cruel. He can't rip my son away from me and not return him. God's been good to me for a little while ever since I lost Hector, and he's given me the strength to not give up.

I will never give up.

He's my own flesh and blood.

I used to tell him I loved him more than air, and that's still true. In fact, it's truer than it ever was.

And when you love someone that much, you can't give up. You can't lose them forever.

I'm in the right and God's with me. Might it be tomorrow or in ten years time, Hector will be with me again. And when I do have him, I'll never ever let go of him.

But until then, I'll have to keep trying.

I'm not giving up, ever.

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A/N: Okay, I didn't mean to go into so much depth about Zero's mother, hehehe. I suppose I described her life more than her feelings for Zero, but that's because we all know the close bond they had. As for Squid, however, I wanted a character change so that he could return to a different mother. Oooh, this is getting interesting! I wonder what I'll do for Magnet... (winkwink) Hmm... Okay, I will be doing Barf Bag and Twitch, so if you want them next, say so.

NEXT: Magnet
AFTER MAGNET: Armpit
AFTER ARMPIT: Say so in your review and majority will rule. So don't be difficult on me and you all choose different ones. Lol.

(X-Ray, Caveman, Zigzag, Barf Bag, Twitch)

By the way, it won't ALWAYS be from their mother's POV. For example, I'm going to write Magnet from his FATHER'S POV, though it's much easier for me to write maternally... Lol. Thank you SO much for the reviews! I was squealing when I saw them. Hehe. And I'm so glad I've made some of you a little teary... hehehe.

--MSQ.

PS. These Kids by Joel Turner is a brilliant song that I think describes D-tent really well! I love it so much. I listened/rapped to it all the time I was at camp until my friend got annoyed at me and threw her stuffed star at me. Hehe.