I stood nearly alone between the two rows of houses; the only other thing that occupied the space was the rugged gravel, mocking me, telling me I'd never see Aiden again.
I ran through the large, messy house, dodging stray cigarette packs, old beer bottle cartons, and askew, dirty clothes, searching for him.
"Yes?" I asked upon finding him sprawled out on his ratty couch in the den
I walked out of the room, trying to think of a way to get some beer.
My uncle had told me this countless times before. The sad thing was that I believed him. But who else could I be? Certainly no one special- I wasn't talented, nor gifted; I wasn't anything at all.
My uncle had taken me away just before my mother's death. I have but one memory of her, for I was very young when he took me away:
When had my mother put a lock on my door? My uncle hastily undid the lock on the door, opened it, and stumbled in.
my mother screeched as my uncle exited the room
but I was to intimidated to try and stop the man.
The room smelled heavily of alcohol and smoke, but I tried not to cough. My uncle didn't like it when I coughed.