Well I'm laying down my gun

Hanging up my boots

I'm up here with God and we're both watching over you

Lay me down

In that open field out on the edge of town

Know my soul

It's where my mama always prayed that it would go

And if your reading this

If your reading this

I'm already home

~If you're reading this- Tim McGraw

Alice Point of View

The days of mourning, or not mourning, dragged on. Until one day when Jasper and I were rummaging through his stuff. We leave in two days and I convinced him to start packing. When he did, he found a letter.

Dear Jasper,

If you're reading this, half way around the world. Ok that's dramatic. More like half way around the continental U.S. but anyway. I won't be there to meet your girlfriend. I'll never have grandkids. But that's ok. You know why? I raised you to be a perfect southern gentleman. And more likely than not she is sitting next to you right now as you read this letter.

As part of my goodbye I must tell you this. It may be hard to understand. You will probably be angry but don't shut out the ones you love. The ones who love you. Rosalie is your sister. Your Auntie couldn't have more kids after Julia. Your father was gone so much because he was working. He wanted to give you the life he never had.

He swore me to secrecy. However, now that I am gone you have the right to know. As for the drinking. It runs in the family. Don't screw up Jasper. I'm counting on you.

Love always,

Momma

After that, I left Jasper in his room. Walking oven I thought of everything that had happened. I walked into Jasper's room again to find a bottle of Jack Daniel's on the dresser and Jasper in his bed.

"JASPER" I yelled

"They all hate me. You hate me." He pointed at my slightly sticking out stomach. "Hell that thing hates me. The only reason that you're with me is because you feel sorry for me"

"Jasper! How could you think that? This isn't you!"

"You don't know the real me"

Jasper POV

She looked me in the eye.

"I may know nothing about you, but one thing I know for sure. This isn't you. Your father tried. Your mother listened. Is that so difficult? Huh? Is it!" she shrieked. "This shit your pulling is just bull. I get it you lost your mom. I lost my dad. My best friend!"

"It's not the same" I murmured.

"No you aren't the same." She grabbed the bottle and threw it on the ground and left. I heard her crying on the other side of the door. Or maybe it was just me? She was right. Right?