Thirty

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My house appears as it always does. It looks the same as it did over a year ago before my life got thrown off course. The wooden plaque on the door still hangs there, my name still not present. This brings out an anger that I thought I had surpressed, but I guess not.

"I can't do this," I state and turn to go back to Lawrence's bike. His hand stops me on my shoulder before I can get more than a foot away.

"You can and you will. Frankly, you need to because, I'm pretty much homeless since Sam will be in Folsom, and I don't want you in my position."

"You're not homeless. If all goes well, you can stay here," I assure him. Smiles cross our faces and suddenly the fear fades away.

I reach for the door knob and I am surprised to see my parents along with Myra watching a movie on the sofa. Their focus no longer resides on the TV, and their judgemental eyes study both Lawrence and me.

"The guy that killed Amy was found," I inform them. Their faces hold looks of surprise.

"Who found him?" My dad asks.

"Me..." If I were to say my parents look shocked, I would be lying. They look astounded. Serves them right. They doubted me and to see them like this is a sight I'd pay to see.

"I-I don't know what to say," My father says.

"How about I'm sorry for being such a dickhead," Lawrence suggests. I punch him in his shoulder, only to get a simple grumble from him.

"He's not wrong," I add quietly. My parents have nothing to say. They just stare at both of us with curious and calculating eyes. Myra doesn't say anything either, at least not for a long time.

"My sister is a badass!" Myra laughs.

Lawrence and I laugh along with her, but my parents just scolded her and tell her she is not allowed to use that kind of language. Myra just winks at me and suddenly, a small weight is off my shoulders. My eyes move to my mom, her eyes almost sympathetic.

"I forgive you," she whispers. A sigh of relieve and about a million pounds leaves my body and I feel like I'm floating. Except that feel is quickly destroyed as my father stands and begins to leave the room.

"Hey dad!" I call. He pauses but doesn't turn around. "You don't have to forgive me or even remotely love me, but just know, both Lawrence and I will be staying here until we can find a place and leave. I don't want to hear your opinion on it either. We're staying and you can deal with it."

With that, I grab Lawrence's hand and I drag him to my room. I smile at the pictures on my door, no longer feeling dread or sadness when I see them. The smiles on our faces will be forever remembered and the times that I cried about her will be placed in the back of my mind, never to be seen again. At least not for a while. I won't avoid the topic of her death. She died for someone's selfish desires, but she is too strong for her to just fade away.

She always did love her attention.

I lead Lawrence through the door and into the room I love to call mine. The man in his room across the house may not approve of the decisions I have made, but I sure as hell am. If I were given the chance to go back in time to that night and somehow prevent everything that happened, Amy wouldn't have wanted me to. She always wanted my happiness over her happiness. I didn't want her to, but we were each other's world's. We made an imaginary place in the stars that I will see someday. Amy is probably there, in the castle we made in our minds smiling down at me. And for that I thank her. I thank her for being her and believing in what I never could.

"What are you thinking about?" Lawrence asks softly.

"Everything that went right considering the circumstances."

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