My stomach hurts like I've eaten nails. I try to get on my feet, confused about where to look at because of the pain. The Sun starts to rise on the horizon; and, when my stomach finally stops hurting, I take a deep breath, taking in the Central Park air: I'm home.

Fu Dog is next to me, still cursing his pain. "It's even worse if you do this twice! Ouch..." He looks at me. "Are you ok?!"

But right now, his words are just a noise. I look at my wrist, looking for my bracelet, to know if I'm dreaming. I look at my friend's as well; but no clue of it. I'm not dreaming... I'm not dreaming! This is real life! Real world, my dimension! I'm finally home. It seems like it's been two ice ages since the last time this ground was the one that held my feet.

I take my shoes off and play with my fingers on the grass. As if I'm completely out of mind, I run around the park, spinning around and jumping like a drunk crazy girl. I like how the grass tickles my feet, how the morning wind messes my hair up, how my vision turns upside down when I stop spinning. And I don't give a damn when I see Fu on the corner of my eye: I just want to feel this moment. Feel again.

When I'm out of breath, I open my arms and lie on my back on the grass.

"Kid?" I hear Fu's voice next to me, although I can't really see his face, since my eyes are closed. "Listen, if anyone sees you running and jumping like that, they'll probably send you to a mad house."

I open my eyes and roll them. "C'mon, I'm just feeling the moment..."

"You know what I think? I think you got bored and spent all this time smoking weed."

"There was no weed back there." I frown at him.

"Oh!" He fakes surprise. "So you looked for it..."

I glare at him. "Give me a break."

Fu takes a few steps away from me and, when I get up, he says:

"But hurry, Kit Kat. There are people waiting for you..." The sentence ends with a smile on his face; and, soon enough, a smile on mine as well.

My house is four blocks away from the Central Park, so we have to walk for about 20 minutes to get there. When we do, all I'm able to do is to stare at the front door, as if pretending I'm made of stone.

"It seems like you're a statue." Exactly. He continues. "It's your front door, not Medusa's eyes." I know he's still looking at me but I don't make a move.

"Can... You..." He's about to poke my shoulder, but I turn around as fast as I can and make a face to him. He puts his paws back on the ground, like an ordinary dog. He always walks like that around the city.

"Now you're pushing your luck..."

"You just don't want to admit I scared you."

"No, no, you scared me, scared me as hell. But don't worry about me; cause if I pee, everyone will consider it normal. That's one of the perks of having a dog's body.

I laugh at first, but then I think better about what he said. A dog's body?

"Well" He says. "Since you're at home, it won't be a problem if I deliver you now, will it? I have to show up at Gramps' to tell him we're back and okay. You'll go there later, right?"

I shrug it off. "I'll consider it, for you."

"No, not for me. There's someone there that I'm sure will be very... Glad to see you." He says the word "glad" blinking several times and smiling. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks right away.

"I don't know why you guys blink like that when you try to speak like me. Or to do any reference to me." I try to control my voice, to avoid it sounds shaky.

He blinks like it again. "Like how?"

"Stop it, just GO already!" I smile and he keeps looking at me for a while; then he turns around and runs to the store.

I don't know why, but I feel more fearless now. It's easier to walk towards the door, taking each of the six steps up the stairs. As soon as I open the main door, I spot the other stairs; the ones that lead to each floor. I run so fast to go up that I think they're going to fall. At each step, I release all the pain and frustration I held back when trying to keep control. Finally, I get to my floor and recognize my door.

But I don't stop and stare at it like I did before, although I'm not completely sure of what I will find. I knock. 1. 2. 3. Nothing; not a sound. Then, I see my third knock actually opened the door a little. So I push it and look around at what was supposed to be my living room.

But what I see sends shudders down my spine.

Well, I don't know where to Begin with. Apparently, the Katrina is back and it came to visit my family a few minutes ago. The place is a mess; no one could tell it was once what I called home. I take a while to absolve the shock.

The sofa is upside down, the TV is broken; and all the vases and lamps are shattered on the ground; not to mention the walls, covered with grey and black hand marks.

I step forward, carefully. Was my family here when it all happened? What if- don't you dare think about it!

I walk, trying not to get cut. The steps that released my pain seconds ago now bring it back; I can't believe it. It took me so long, so long to come back, to finally see the ones I love again, to hug them and say how I missed them, to have a brand new life, a new real life. But I was a fool to believe that would actually happen.

I catch myself thinking about it for a while too long; because when I realize, I'm already in front of my parents' bedroom door, trying to hold back a scream.

My mother is on the ground, passed out. Right now, I hope she's passed out. Guess I'm a kind of afraid to check it, but I know I should, so I walk closer and check her pulse. I sigh – she's alive.

Her leg is covered with blood, but I can see the cut and it's not a deep one. Anyway, I try the hardest to wake her up. I poke her many times, say her name; but it's worthless. The desperation in seeing her well hits me like a rock inside my chest and I start to let a few tears escape.

"Please…" I whisper, begging her to open her eyes. And after an eternity trying, I let myself cry.

I cry for my mother, for my father; God know where he's now…

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain on the back of my head, as thousand of black butterflies darken my vision.

—

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't know it was her!"

"She's been lost for all this time and at the day she returns you simply knocks her out?!"

"I didn't mean it, I didn't know!"

I wake up with shouts forming a discussion between two people. Their voices sound familiar. A man and a woman.

When I'm back to my senses, I'm able to see clearly again: my mother is awake and shouting at my dad. Guess he was the one who hit my head. They look really worried.

"Rose!" Mom notices I woke up and rushes to hug me. I hug her back, feeling her tears on the back of my neck. We break apart and she holds my face with both hands, looking at me. My smile is bigger than my face can support.

"Oh my God, where have you been what happened to you who took you oh I swear I'll make them pay for-"

"Mom…" I say. "It doesn't matter. I'm here and I'm fine." I remember about her injury. "What about your leg?"

"That's just a cut. Large, but it's not deep."

I look at the person standing behind her. My father didn't rush to hug me, guess it's because my mother accused him of almost killing me. I don't blame him; mom's accusations can be really hard. So I do it myself: I stand up and hug him strongly, until I feel his hug in response.

"Welcome back." He whispers.

"Thanks."

"And, uh… I'm sorry I…" He pulls away. "You know… knocked you out."

I smile. "That's fine. I like to see you can defend yourself and mom… But… What happened here?"

My mother sighs. "Some people broke in and started to look for something. I mean, look desperately for something."

"Did you see their faces?" I ask her.

"Their faces, no. But they were two boys, who had weapons and everything. They tied your father up and cut my leg-"

"-to paint the stealing." I say, cutting her off.

"Paint what?"

As a response, I just point my finger at the stealing. My dad takes a step back as if trying not to lose his balance. Mom gasps. And I feel anger running through my veins, as I read each one of the words again and again. Words those assholes painted with my mother's blood:

"Cheaters never win."