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A/N: Hey so this is not like my normal stories. Usually they're about One Direction but I decided to do one about Warm Bodies, I love the movie so much I have to write about it so here it goes....

I wake up- just another lame ass day in Quebec Canada. . I live in the basement of my mom and dad's house. I like living with my parents, I don't have to pay any bills or do many chores. I mean, some people may say being 22 and living with your parents is the worst thing to possibly happen to you but I always rebuttal with "death is the worst possible thing to happen to you" and that shuts them up. But that's a lie, I don't think death is the worst possible thing to happen to you, living eternally is. I mean, who wants to live forever. What would you do? I don't think its possible for some one to live forever though. You will eventually die at some point in time. 

I put on my pajama pants on that are laying on the messy floor. This basement is totally trashed but I don't really care. My mom will eventually clean it for me, she always does. 

"Ryan" my mom calls down the basement steps and I walk up the stairs. 

"Yeah mom?" I ask when I'm through the door. 

"Could you take out the trash for me dear?" she asks, My mom is around 50 years old, she has short curly dusty blonde hair. She's about 4 inches shorter than I am and she looks maybe 45. "Its to heavy for me" she says when I don't answer. I hate chores and its like 10 degrees outside, all I have on is a white t-shirt and my blue plaid pajama pants that I seem to wear a lot.  

"Its cold" I whine. 

"Please" she begs. I have no choice but to give into the old woman, if I don't she'll tell my dad and then he will lecture me for 10 minutes about how I need to help around the house more and who can sit through that lecture again. I pull on my favorite red jacket up that is sitting by the door and grab the trash white trash bag, its not to heavy but certainly to heavy for a 50 year old woman to carry. I drop it into the dark blue trash can sitting at the curb and rush inside. "Thank you" my mom smiles at me. 

"Sure" I shrug and go to to the cabinet and pull out the box of coco puffs. 

After pouring myself a bowl I go into the living room and click on the TV. I watch my morning cartoons while I continue to eat my favorite cereal. 

My mom comes in and looks at me with a nervous smile. 

"Ryan, can you turn off the cartoons for a moment. I need to talk to you for a second" she sits down on the couch cushion next to me. 

"Sure" I sit up, click off the tv and set my bowl of cereal down. 

"Now, I don't know how to start this..here goes. You father and I have been thinking a lot.." she begins and looks down and then back up at me. "We are getting pretty old. And we want to see the world together. Your father will be retiring soon, so that gives us the time to go places. Unfortunately we don't have enough money to pay the bills and do what we want. So were thinking we could sell the house and just spend the rest of our money and his retirement fund and the money from selling the house, we could just travel. Now for you that means two things. You could get a job and start helping pay the bills or move out, you choose" she finishes. I am muted by her words. I can't believe this, I've lived here for my whole life, I can't move. They can't sell the house. No, no way. I can't get a job, she needs to stay and take care of me. She's my mom, aren't moms suppose to take care of their kids, not travel the world? 

"Mom, are you crazy?" I finally say. 

"Honey, your father and I are trying to move with our life's. Your 22, you way past being able to take care of yourself. You should have a job and start a life." she places her hand on mine. 

"I don't want that mom. I want to stay with you. I want to live here" I huff. 

"Honey, I'm afraid that's not going to happen. You have two options. You may choose which one, I would go with moving out of course. Either way your father and I aren't staying here. We plan on getting an RV and go places. And I know the kind of jobs you could get can not afford the mortgage and all the utilities." 

"No, you guys can leave. Whatever" I move my hand away from hers. "But I'm staying in this house, its my childhood home" I stand to my feet. 

"Sweety, Im just telling you what I think you should do. If you think you can find yourself a job that will pay enough then you go for it but your father and I are planning to leave in a month. We won't be back in Canada for at least 3 years."

"3 years?! Are you crazy? That's way to long to be gone" I shake my head. 

"It doesn't matter, we only plan on coming back here to visit family then were leaving again and we may just find a house to live in states." she shrugs looking up at me. "You can do what you want" she stands. 

"This is insane, only a month?" I ask her as she walks back to the kitchen. 

"Yes. We don't plan on taking much with us either. Clothes and personal items but the rest is going to charity" 

"This is serious?" I ask pulling at my hair. 

"Yes" 

"What if I want to keep some of it?" 

"That's fine, keep what you would like. Do you actually think you'll have the money to live here?" She changes the subject. 

"I don't know...maybe" I shrug. 

"You better figure it out, cause if you don't and we leave here without selling the house it will be on you head to sell it and pay off the bank" she looks down at some carrots she was chopping. 

"And your leaving in one month?" I ask. 

"Yes, one month so in the middle of January" 

"Why are you leaving in the middle of winter?" 

"Your father wants to leave as soon as possible after he retires which is in about 3 weeks." she wipes her hands off on her apron. 

I sigh and walk down stairs to my room. This is crazy, and she tells me a month before. She should have 2 or 3 months ago to give me time to repair. I have no time to save up money. And since when is dad retiring in 3 weeks, he's only 64. He's been working at that damned plant since we in his 20's. Why is everything crumbling so fast? My whole life, everything I've grown up with is going away at an alarming rate. 

I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands. What am I going to do? How am I going to get enough money to pay off the mortgage? I don't think I can sell this place though. I never went to college so I can't get a well enough job to pay for anything. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. Maybe I should just move, maybe I should start a life. I can go to college, get an apartment, find a girlfriend. But how can I go to college, I don't have money for that. And again, money plays the roll of the bad guy for both scenarios. Maybe I don't need to go to college? Just find a good paying job that asks for little education. But what girl would want a man who didn't go to college? Nothing is going to work out for me when they leave.

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