You are never coming home, never coming home. ~ The Ghost of You, My Chemical Romance


It was a perfect spring day.

Sun shining, a gentle breeze, chirping birds and blooming flowers. Everything. Little girls would be braiding flowers into their friends hair and little boys would be playing in the dirt and staining their clothes.

The little girl was braiding flowers into her mother's hair.

(The little boy was kneeling at a double grave, staining his new pants.)

He, however, did not speak with carefree childish words like all the other little boys. He spoke words with only coldness and understanding.

But it was such a beautiful day.

The first true day of spring. People who were not particular close to the family but came only because of how severe the situation was would use this as a way to start their condolences to the father. "They're smiling down at you," or "This is their way of saying everything will be alright," And the father would allow himself a small smile then get lost in stories of those who had passed on. He never mentioned the little boy.

The little boy who not could feel the sun shining, or hear the birds chirping nor smell the flowers or relish the breeze.

(The little boy who was knelling and looking down at names carved in stone with vacant empty eyes.)

And then the little boy spoke with adult coldness and adult understanding.

"You never wanted to stay here with me. Either of you,"


A/N Update back to back because I wont have time to update again until Wednesday. (I think it's hilarious that I am acting like that's a long time to wait for an update.) Plus I just love all your reviews, reviewers! Oh and one more thing - TWENTY CHAPTERS. -dies-