Another short one, but I am already working on the next chapter and as far as I know, it will be longer. Thanks for the patience. Please review, they inspire me!

Chapter Three

I didn't really know where I was going, but I pulled up short when I saw the old boxcar, I hadn't realized I had been walking that long, or that far. I couldn't believe it was still there. That tightness in my chest returned, but instead of fighting it, I went with it. Walking with purpose I made it to the boxcar and climbed inside.

Everything was as I remembered it, true, it was fade almost too much to see, but I could see the faint outlines of my old paintings, I could also, if I looked hard enough, the outline of wear Jason sat on the floor, bleeding, perhaps that was just in my head though. My heart hurt. I couldn't fight the tears any longer, after everything that had happened, everything I had been through; I gave myself this one moment to fall apart. A little later, I would be strong; I would find that reserve that would take me through all the horrors and heartache that was to come.

I couldn't pretend that it was going to be easy or that there wasn't going to be more heartache. It seemed my life was filled with pain and sadness and people always turning their backs on me, yes perhaps I was having a momentary pity party, but I believed I was allowed. I couldn't understand it, almost didn't want to. I was a good person, I helped anyone who needed it, did everything I could to be a good mother, wife, daughter, granddaughter, sister, friend…even when people didn't deserve it, I gave of myself, and look where it had landed me, I thought bitterly.

I cried for my lost innocence, for I could no longer cry for the boy Lucky had been. If he hadn't stood me up, I wouldn't have been alone in that park, I wouldn't have been raped. Sure, Lucky tried to help me afterwards, but it had never been about me, it had always been about him. I now understood Lucky couldn't have loved me, because love doesn't allow people to hurt one another that deeply. I took a moment to cry for all the missed opportunities with Jason, the starts and stops and the almost, kind of, sort of, maybes… I cried for never seeing what could have been and for not taking a chance. But mostly, I cried for my children and the pain and suffering they have had to endure and live without, because of a silly promise to a silly boy. And lastly, I cried for my missing son, because I knew in my heart, there was no way Jake was dead.

Standing and dusting the dirt and dust off, I raised my head and screamed into the quiet afternoon breeze, "I will never be that girl again!" There was so much behind that sentence, not only would I not be everyone's quiet and happy helper, I wouldn't go blindly into any situation, trust anyone just because O should or once did. My "sons" funeral was a wake up call, one greatly needed.

Because for the longest time, I had thought, believed, nothing mattered so long as my kids had a father and they were happy. I had forgotten the biggest piece to that puzzle, how can my children possibly be happy, when their mother continually rolled over and played…well, dead. It was time to become her own woman, to become the mother she always wanted to be.

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That aching in my chest didn't go away, after my latest cry jag, but, it had eased some, so I put it to the back of my mind, like so much else at the moment. I didn't have the time or the inclination to try and figure out what was wrong, if something was wrong.

It was time to leave the past where it belonged; it was time to move forward.

Jumping from the boxcar, I gasped with surprise. Obviously, I had been in there longer than I thought, mourning should haves and could haves. The sky was slowly fading from red to purple; night was making a steady entrance, soon the last light would diminish, welcoming night in its entirety. It gave me momentary pause to realize I had lost so much time, but actually it was a good thing. I could now make my way back into Port Charles and finally start looking for my son.

I wanted to go home, check on Cameron, see if her was there, but, it was a pipe dream, I couldn't go there, on the off chance someone was waiting for me, to do whatever it is they wanted to do. Sending up a silent prayer, I prayed my son was safe.

This was the time I normally ran to Jason, he had always been my port 'in any storm', but obviously, things have changed…I had to move away from that thought, there were landmines of 'what the hell' all over those thoughts.

There was a little twenty-four hour internet café down by the docks, but if I was going to go there, I needed to be very careful, I couldn't risk getting caught, I couldn't risk my SON.

Every alley and dark street was an unknown threat, every shadow a threat to my freedom, to my children. I couldn't tell you how long it took me to make it across town and to the café, but when I was finally across the street, for just a moment, I could breathe a little easier.

I didn't have anything to disguise myself, I just hopped I'd be able to blend in or at the very least, be of no importance to the staff. Taking a deep breath, I crossed the street at a leisurely pace, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I walked through the door, cursing the stupid bell that told of my presence.

I walked to the nearest computer and sat down, I typed and typed, trying to think of some way to find a clue about what happened, and where Jake could be, but, sadly, I wasn't good enough on the computer to know where to go or what offshoots to take that could possibly lead me to more information. Just as I was about to leave, I hit on something…

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