Forever Your Mother,

Prologue

A cold sea breeze brushed over Dee's tear-stained cheeks, causing him to duck his face low from the chill. Listening to the whispers of the ocean always managed to soothe the boy. But, this time wasn't like all the other times before. Dee had found out that he and his mom were moving to a new town soon. He knew it was supposed to be important to his mother, but Dee didn't care. Just like how he knew his mother didn't care about all the friends he has made. Their conversation turned into an argument, and words turned into knives. Both mother and son had said things they both regretted, but it didn't matter anymore. Dee had run away to the beach and he planned to stay there for eternity. With every wave that glided onto the sand came more tears that gathered in his eyes. And, with every wave that rolled back to the sea, another tear would roll down his cheek.

    Dee dug his toes further into the damp sand, which molded around his feet. Pushing himself deeper into the sand, he wondered if he could bury his body in the wet sand forever. As he started to scoop more muddy sand onto his legs, Dee felt something crash against his hand. He slapped it away, and continued to bury himself. Yet, the object swayed back and forth along with the current, hitting Dee's hand again. The irritated boy yanked the thing and threw it behind him. A loud shatter was heard, startling him. He quickly stood up straight, searching for the source of the clatter. A glint of something shiny reflected the light of the setting sun into Dee's eye. Was that...glass? Dee made his way to the broken object, which lay across a rock. In the middle of the broken glass, there were folded pieces of paper, held together by string. The boy kneeled and carefully swept the glass away, taking the folded papers into his hand. It didn't take long to unravel the string, as it broke from a single tug. The folded paper had faded brown and the stains of water droplets seeping into the bottle over the centuries were visible. He could feel that this paper had to be ancient. Delicately opening the paper, the boy could make out writing, albeit smudged and aged significantly. After noticing a few familiar letters, he found the top of the page and began to indulge himself in the age-old words.