December 1989

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Everything was black. The clothes, the umbrellas, the sky, everything. I stood holding my mothers hand, the dead grass finally getting some water from the sky. My brother Spencer on the other side of me, he was now 14 but still my best friend. My mother had and expressionless face and my siblings and I all looked at the ground. Everyone else was crying, not us. Was I thankful that this happened, maybe, was I happy, I have no clue, was I sad, sure as hell not. The rage began to boil inside me an I squeezed my mothers hand possibly a little too tight causing her to wince. I wanted to go home but nothing, absolutely nothing would make this burning rage go away. The 10 years of bruises and scars, the 10 years of torment, the 10 years of hell, all caused by one single man who was now laying in a box, 6 feet under the ground.
"Take me home." I said to my mother. She didn't reject the statement, she just pulled me away from the crowd , my siblings following in pursuit.
...
January 1990
I hadn't gone to school in almost a month. Now being January I decided it was time. I walked through the doors of the small school not knowing what to expect. The older kids stared, and the younger ones didn't care, the kids my own age gave me dirty looks. I felt so empty, like I had nothing to live for.
"Billie" I heard my brothers voice call.
"Spence" I hug him. He was in 8th grade so we were still at the same school.
"You gonna be okay?" I just nod against him. I pull away and walk to the cafeteria. I start to walk towards the table I used to sit at alone before everything happened. The was someone there. A small, shaggy, blonde haired kid in a Joy Division t-shirt was sitting in my spot. If I knew one thing about this kid, it was they had good taste in music. Ava, Charlotte, and Dexter had gotten me into the punk rock scene a few years back. I looked down at my own Nirvana t-shirt and then back to the kid. I sat down across from this child sitting at the table and pulled out a notebook and a pen and started scribbling down words.
"Hey" the kid says. Well now I know they're a girl.
"Hey" I said looking up from the notebook.
"I like your shirt."
"Thanks. I like yours too."

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