Life I Guess
Remember
"I remember when she used to wear her that way--down, flowing freely in the wind. The sun bouncing off her light golden curls as she ran through the fields. Her smile that brightened up everyone's world. She was her parent's pride and joy--the best of both of them. I remember when she was about five, the innocent question she asked a stranger, but back then a stranger wasn't a scary thing. I remember hearing my door open and seeing the two walk in. I didn't know him--he was a scrawny little boy--barely over five himself. And I remember what she asked me."
"Which was"
"Save him? You see--this boy, for privacy sake call him Trevor. Trevor's mom had just died and his dad began to drink," I swallowed the lump in my throat recalling Trevor's story, "Trevor was so nervous, so frightened about everything that was new and any mistake he made. It didn't take long for me to piece the puzzle together. I knew what his dad did. So I took Trevor in."
"And did any behavior in his growing up foreshadow this?"
"no...he was a very compassionate, caring little boy. Couldn't stand to see anyone in harms way. He was constantly at the retirement home helping out. He was the favorite little boy in the town."
"What do you think triggered this change."
"If I had to pinpoint--I'd say losing that girl. My little Candice,"
"What happened to her?"
"She was killed, just last year."
"How?"
"A shooting not to far from here, her death destroyed Trevor, and while I tried to find every hope that he'd be okay that he'd pull out of his depression, but he never did. He got worse."
"Why'd he do it?"
"I'm not Trevor, so I really can't say and I guess we'll never know."
"What else do you remember."
"I remember their first date--the boy was so nervous. Barely sixteen years old. I remember their first fight, they made up instantly. I remember alot. And I now remember that I am alone in this world, and my granddaughter and her boyfriend our gone. Both by a bullet."
"I see."
"And I'm done talking."
"One more question."
"What?"
"Would you tell me, who shot Candice?"
"I did."
"Which was"
"Save him? You see--this boy, for privacy sake call him Trevor. Trevor's mom had just died and his dad began to drink," I swallowed the lump in my throat recalling Trevor's story, "Trevor was so nervous, so frightened about everything that was new and any mistake he made. It didn't take long for me to piece the puzzle together. I knew what his dad did. So I took Trevor in."
"And did any behavior in his growing up foreshadow this?"
"no...he was a very compassionate, caring little boy. Couldn't stand to see anyone in harms way. He was constantly at the retirement home helping out. He was the favorite little boy in the town."
"What do you think triggered this change."
"If I had to pinpoint--I'd say losing that girl. My little Candice,"
"What happened to her?"
"She was killed, just last year."
"How?"
"A shooting not to far from here, her death destroyed Trevor, and while I tried to find every hope that he'd be okay that he'd pull out of his depression, but he never did. He got worse."
"Why'd he do it?"
"I'm not Trevor, so I really can't say and I guess we'll never know."
"What else do you remember."
"I remember their first date--the boy was so nervous. Barely sixteen years old. I remember their first fight, they made up instantly. I remember alot. And I now remember that I am alone in this world, and my granddaughter and her boyfriend our gone. Both by a bullet."
"I see."
"And I'm done talking."
"One more question."
"What?"
"Would you tell me, who shot Candice?"
"I did."