I sat in the bus, my head pressed against the window, my head pulsing with a splitting headache, I was 8on bus, since mother died, and I had already started having migraines. I had been sad ever since she had died; I lived with my ‘father’ and his new fiancé, she wasn’t bad, until she tried to replace my mom. I called her mom to appease my father. She was kind, and she cared about me and my baby brother. She of coarse didn’t care about me as much as Sahar had, I love my mother, and I still do, even after she died, I’ll never let her go. Carol isn’t my mom. My head pounded more and more as I thought about this, images of my mother’s dead body, flashing through my head, the white sheet, the cold skin, the rank scent of death, in the room, like death himself, trying to drag my mother’s spirit away from us. I think that’s about where I started fearing death. Dominick came up to the front of the bus, and lightly touched my shoulder,
“Hey, Ariana, it’s time to get off, we’re home now.”
“You mean back in Denver with mom?” I snapped back, my voice a thin rasp of pain.
“Not now, Ariana,” his voice was only as stern as his age, exhaustion, and hurt would let him be, “you know we can’t go back, Jarred needs to be near Peggy.”
My eyes stung with tears of pain, and frustration, it was a night mare, id wake up soon, my bruises and tears would be gone, and I’d be able to wake up with my mother.