Devion     Created on Saturday, 19 August 2000 00:00  
  A Returning Story (2)  
 
   She came over to me and said nothing, giving me a strange look
 inside my eye. My father was behind her, having his hand up in the
 air like he was going to slap me across the face with a scrap of wood.
 Tears coming from my eyes, I thought, why did they do this to me?
 Why am I always treated so poorly? I looked into their eyes.

       In their eyes I saw pain, sorrow, sadness, emptyness. A flashback
 came back to me of when I was only three, and got beaten because I
 was too weak to carry something heavy across the room. Suddenly,
 they moved closer, ready to throw me up against the tree once again,
 possibly giving me a concussion. "I love you Mom, I love you Dad,"
 I said. "With all my heart and soul, I love you." They vanished.

        I sighed deeply, the time flew by so fast I didn't even notice that
 it was so dark outside. My wrist, oh so in bad pain still I remembered
 I had a bandage in my bag. I'm glad I brought it with me, though I'd
 have to get use to carrying all my belongings with my left hand.

        After bandaging my hand up the next morning, I got all my
 belongings together. I took a walk that took me to a destination
 that I finally wanted to be at. It took 14 hours, to walk there, but I had
 made it. Walking through the names of stones, I found mine. There I
 lay a boquet of roses in front of the grave, a tear falling, and a cry
 goodbye. For the last time I'd see them again, for they aren't there.

          I got what I deserved, knowing my parents, they hated me, but
 my love for them has not changed. A strong word, for not to overuse it
 unless you mean it. For my hand healing, don't worry about it. It will
 get better in time. Know yourself and others before making any actions,
 this way you will learn not only for yourself, but others will learn
 too. I am off to sleep now, take care.

 Lathander