Always - 1. Chapter 1

Dreams. I've heard it said that it was the one time when mankind can truly soar with the divine. Or so they say. But my dreams certainly don't seem to fit in the same category as everyone elses. Maybe mine are 'broken' somehow. Or maybe, it's just the simple fact that I have nothing good to dream about....not anymore.

"GET OUT!!! NOW!!! YOU FUCKING PUNK!!! AND DON'T YOU EVER STEP FOOT IN THIS HOUSE AGAIN!!! DO YOU HEAR ME???" Even in my dreams, my father's deep throated, fear inducing voice echoed like thunder in a hollow tunnel. It was February, maybe March, when I got kicked out of my own house. At the age of 15, I didn't think it was possible. I mean, it's not even legal for them to do that, is it? Who knew? But to hell with them, both my dad AND my bitch of a stepmother! They overreacted to everything. Jesus, if only they could chill out once in a while and let me live my life the way I wanted to. Did they honestly think I didn't know what would happen if I was having sex with girls at such a young age, that I didn't know what alcahol and drugs would do to me if I became addicted to them? Of COURSE I knew that, it's not like they didn't completely smother me with tv ads and slogans every second of the day. But this is MY life, I've got it under control, and I knew what I was doing. All they had to do was trust me. That's all. Let me feel things out and find my own way for a change, I'll get it right eventually. It's not like they were model citizens by any means. They've done the drugs, had the unprotected sex, stayed out at all times of the night, had run ins with the police, so why are they coming down so hard on me? I'm not HALF the delinquent that they are! At least I've got some common sense so I don't ruin my life and end up in some weird trailor park in middle America somewhere. But I guess that night they weren't interested in my point of view.

After being caught getting a blow job by some older chick who lived next door, they had thrown a tantrum. I believe it was mostly because my dad wanted to bang her first. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gotten so upset. He probably wouldn't have even cared. But hey, she wanted ME! She wanted the ripe young auburn haired teenager with the bright hazel eyes and the tight butt. If she was into balding, beer belly abusers in dirty t-shirts, I'm sure I'd be no competition for him. She had been watching me for some time, and although I had lost my virginity at the tender age of 14 to someone from school, I wasn't really experienced with sex. It was just that one time, and it was that girl's first time too. But this older woman...she wanted to teach me all the things that my schoolmates would have to wait years to learn. The first time she ever called me into her house, was when she saw me mowing the lawn with my shirt off. Just a pair of jeans. She offered me a drink, and before I knew it, she was pressing herself against me. Her hands carressed my most private places, her lips traced all around my neck and shoulders. Her free hand roamed across my smooth chest. I didn't know what to do, but she was patient. I think she was even turned on by the fact that I was a novice and had to 'feel' things out. Aroused by my innocence at the time, at my lack of confidence in a world of sex. She told me that it was a sweetness, a tenderness, that people lose after time. All I knew was that it felt good, and I wanted more, and more, and more. I never wanted it to stop. I spent hours at her house that afternoon. We did it over and over again until we were both exhausted....she did things to me that left me aching for another taste. I wasn't in love with her...I was in love with 'sex'. And she was wet with the anticipation of giving it to me whenever and wherever I wanted it. One night, she snuck into my bedroom and began to suck me vigorously in my sleep. I woke up and she sucked even harder as I used the pillow to muffle my moans of pleasure. I would've done ANYTHING to keep reaching that orgasmic high. That's probably why I got caught. I wasn't so careful the third time. She came in while my dad was at the store, and once she put my hard member in her mouth, I had lost all of my senses. The heat. The moisture. The suction. The weightless feeling of being pleasured beyond the realm of passion and deep into the dungeon of lust. No regrets, no responsibilities, no threat of heartbreak. Just letting myself go and giving in to the most animalistic of my sexual urges. And then, without warning, the door swung open. My father snatched her off of me and threw her out of the house, striking me across the face. But I KNOW why he was mad. He was mad because the little boy that he couldn't give two shits about, had conquered a piece of ass that wouldn't spit on him if he asked her to. Screw him! I'm glad it happened. For the first time, I had won, hands down, no arguments. And he couldn't have hated me more for it.

Either way, that night was the last straw, and my fucked up family life got even worse. I didn't even think it was possible at the time.

During that dream, I remembered the struggle, the fight with my dad when he punched hard me in the stomach to put me down. I fell to my knees, out of breath, tears in my eyes from the pain, almost ready to lose my lunch from the ache in my gut. I swear if he hadn't taken such a cheapshot, he'd be fucking DEAD right now! I wanted to swing at him with all of my might, but I just couldn't stand, I couldn't even breathe. The pain snaked its way out to all of my limbs and paralyzed me as I fell over and curled up into a fetal position on my living room floor. I remembered how much it hurt when my dad dragged me up by my hair and then slammed me back down again. My stepmother watching and screaming "Get him out of here already, Hank!" I wish I could have gotten to my feet, because I would have given her a few shots too. God how I hated her! My father and I didn't have the best relationship in the world since my mother died, but he wasn't filled with a fraction of the disgust that he felt for me now. Not until SHE came along, wanting him all to herself and hating the fact that I was even there.

My body cringed as the dream continued and the shouting became a blur of fuzzy voices and curse words. I remember feeling his strong hands around one of my legs, and him dragging me to the door. The rug was burning my face and chest, but still I clawed at it, trying to hold on. Trying to stay in an environment that was detestable, and yet better than being tossed out on my own. It was the only life that I knew, everything else was a fantasy world that played itself out on television. But no matter how hard I grasped at the rug and clutched to the furniture, it was no use. My father kicked me in the ribs, loosening my grip on the door frame, and proceeded to drag me kicking and screaming out into the rain. Once outside, he threw me against a tree, and gave me one last brutal shot to the jaw to put me to sleep. I hardly felt the pain from the last punch. It caught me by surprise, never thinking that he could ever hit me with such anger. My real mother never would have let him touch me this way. What I remember most from that moment was my body falling down into the mud and tasting the grit as the rain water poured down over me. I don't know how long I stayed conscious, but I remember feeling my clothes landing softly on top of me as my dad tossed them out in giant heaps. I heard a few more of my things being pitched on top of me too. No doubt they would be drenched by morning, and totally useless, but I couldn't even move. All I could do that night, was feel the last pinches of pain surge through me and try to roll on to my side so I wouldn't drown in some puddle while I was out of it. I soon lost consciousness there in the mud. It was my last night at home, and I'd never forget it. Like I said, I have nothing good to dream about anymore.

I suppose that I couldn't even classify it as a nightmare anymore, since it's the only 'past' that I own, and the only thing I really dream about, so it didn't really wake me up with a scream or a cold sweat. I just opened my eyes and found myself staring up at the ceiling in some cheap motel room. A few lights dancing across it from the sparkling sign outside our window. I guess there was about ten of us homeless kids crashing there that night. I only really knew three of them, and the rest were merely familiar faces from the streets. I suppose they all had their individual reasons for running away from home, or being kicked out like I did. But for most of them, I couldn't care less, I had my own problems. Besides, half of them lied about their lives to make them sound tough. However, I quickly found out that the ones who never mention their past that often, or the ones who could joke about it freely without flinching, are the REAL survivors of something truly horrific. They were the ones who barely made it out alive, and went to sleep with a head full of screams and forgotten tears every night.

As strange and distant as they may be, after basically being 'homeless' for the past 7 or 8 months, they had become my little dysfunctional family. And I guess they were the best that I could do in this world.

I came to the downtown area of the city about a week after being booted out of my sense of reality by dear old dad and his warped version of a wife. I regained consciousness around four hours later, and had no choice but to gather my soaking wet possessions and move on. At first, it was pride that kept me away. Thinking that I could teach my parents a lesson if they never saw me again. But in the back of my mind, I was hoping that they would come looking for me, and take me home. They never did. And by the time I realized that they would never come searching for their 'bastard son', it was too late to go back. I'm not even sure where they went to, but they went without me and that seemed to be just fine with them. I was alone. Completely, and utterly, alone. The wind had never felt so cold than it did the day I saw that empty space where my 'house' use to be. So that was it. I had a large backpack full of clothes, about fourteen dollars, and a couple of old of trinkets to remind me that I was human once. At that point, it was either grow up overnight...or die a helpless kid on the streets. Death, no matter how welcome it may seem sometimes, is never an easy choice.

I began wandering the streets, my stomach rumbling like crazy because I hadn't eaten in a day or two, and I was still trying to hold on to my life. Wondering if I could go back to school, if I could get my parents in trouble and have them locked up, if I had just one good friend that I could stay with for a while. Ha! I had pissed my friends off a long time ago, stole from them, berated them, embarrassed them, shit...I had beaten the hell out of half of them at one time or another. I guess it was the violence at home working its way out through my belligerence to other people. They'd probably be overjoyed to see me in this position.

You never really think you're going to be out of options one day. That you might, one day, have to depend on the people that you were once too cool or too smart or too cute to talk to. All of those people that I had called morons, that I hit, spit, and cursed at, that I ignored because they weren't worth my time...they all had a nice warm bed to sleep in that night. And I didn't.

The situation was good at breaking my spirits. Sure, at first I tried to pretend that I wasn't 'really' homeless. I refused to beg for change, refused to eat garbage out of the back alley of some restaraunt, I even refused to sleep for the first few days. But the reality of it comes crashing down on you hard all of the sudden and you begin to realize that it's either do it or die trying. I couldn't believe it. I was just a kid. I had friends, I had a family, a home, went to school. And now....what am I? I'm a...a bum. I'm one of those guys that I used to laugh at from the bus window. One of those guys that we used to say were crazy and smelled bad and crossed to the other side of the street to avoid. And realizing that is a depression that no one wants to ever experience, because it is at that moment that you begin to understand that your life...is over. There's no way out, no restructuring your goals or starting over. Once you hit this, you feel that there is no salvation left. You don't know if you'll be able to eat the next day, or what you'll do if it rains, or where you're going to be able to sleep for an hour or so before a cop wakes you up and tells you to move along. You have no clue how long things will stay this way, and while you know that this is your reality, you're too terrified to accept it. Because once you give in, you know that you could be out there until the day you die. And you wonder if you want that to be a few decades from now...or a few minutes. If it hadn't been for some of the good people I met out here, I would have died for sure. The lessons you learn on the streets are a hundred times more potent than anything you learn anywhere else. Believe that.

"Can't sleep again?" Came a voice over my shoulder. It was Sarah. I guess that you could call her my girlfriend. I'm not sure if what I felt for her was love, companionship, lust, or just a need to hold on to something that was remotely normal. I felt a great closeness to her, and she was the first one to befriend me when I came to the city to rest my eyes.

"Don't worry about it. I'm fine, really." I pushed aside a curtain of her long blond hair, now turned a dingy brownish color by the time she's spent on the street. I saw a picture of her once when she was still in school. She was sooo beautiful. Model quality at the least. And while she still maintained some of that beauty inside, it had been tarnished somehow. Her eyes had gotten saggy with luggage underneath them from not sleeping. Her hair dyed the color of misery, and her face now sporting a scar that went from her lip almost all the way back to her ear. Not to mention that she has found her own source of money in the form of prostitution for dirty old men who cruise town looking for a piece of young meat. It was a practice that I had convinced her to stop being involved with just a few weeks prior to this very night. And I could only hope that she would stick to her word. No matter how much money she made from it, the damage it caused on the inside couldn't have been worth it.

"You have to get some sleep while you're here Joshua. We all have to be out by tomorrow afternoon and then it's back to the alley. C'mon...shut your eyes baby." Her voice was so soothing to me, and yet filled with that hazy rasp that gave away how hard it's been for her to even survive this long. I laid my head on her chest as I looked around the room at the other 'family members' that holed up in our little habitat for the night. They were either passed out on the floor in some weird position that just looked like it hurt, or they were staring at the ceiling the same way I was a moment ago. Probably having a few dreams of their own. That, or a bad acid trip. Our friend, Tonio was passed out next to the toilet in the bathroom, covered in whatever it was that he ate for lunch that day. How anybody can get that sick, feel that bad, look that awful...and still want to do more drugs the very next day, is completely beyond me. Tonight I think it was crystal meth, mixed with heroin, mixed with some other drug that I had never heard of before. At least that's what HE told us. He has a tendency to exaggerate. All I know is that it was blue and kept Tonio mumbling in some half conscious mumbling language for half the night. We were happy to hear him throwing up, just because we knew it would put him out for the night and the rest of us could get some peace and quiet. The poor kid was maybe 16 years old, and his arms, hands, neck, and even his feet were speckled with track marks and needle holes. He could be an attractive boy I suppose, as long as you didn't look at the veins for too long. He goes too far, you know? Now me? I know my drugs, and I'll be damned if I ever let it get a hold of me THAT bad. I know people think it's impossible to get hooked, but it is in a way. Not to the degree that Tonio has taken, but pretty bad. It's sort of like masturbation, you know? You fiddle around with it when you're young, try some different things, some different techniques, and then one day, out of the blue...WHAM! You have the best orgasm of your young life. It makes your whole body tingle and feel better than it has ever felt before. Drugs are the same way. It's like, once you make your body feel THAT good, you don't have to keep doing it, but you WANT to. Because you'll go insane if you never reach that level of pleasure again. If ya do it once, you'll do it twice, and the next thing you know, you're doing it two or three times a day, and the pleasure is all you care about. Especially when it's the only joy you get out of your life on a daily basis. I still do my share of drugs, but not like Tonio, I'll never get that bad. I'm in control.

Sleeping next to me and Sarah was Sketch, and we called him that because he used to draw pictures of everybody on the block. He used to beg us to buy him paper and pencils almost twice a week if he was short on cash. One day, we finally got him a whole stack of blank newspaper pads from the dumpster of this old art supply store. He's been gratefully following us like a lost puppy ever since. Sketch was only 12, but he could almost pass for ten with the dark hair and baby blue eyes. His face, albeit a little dirty, was flawless in every way. Angelic, with the innocence of a newborn baby practically tattoed into his child-like features. He's a good kid, but I can't really feel too close to him. He makes me uncomfortable. I've never met an openly gay person pefore in my life, so I guess Sketch would be the first. I happen to know for sure that he's selling himself for money, and I should talk him out of it, but I don't understand how a man could possibly have sex with another man. I mean, that's just sick. Immoral. Unnatural. I mean...eewww, putting another guy's dick to my lips? The thought makes me sick to my stomach. And this kid, from what I hear on the streets, does it all. Sips, licks, swallows, and takes it up the ass from guys he doesn't even know. Almost daily! So even though he's a good kid, and a friend, I still feel a certain level of disgust when he talks to me. A level that I can't seem to escape or even postpone long enough to give him a hug. I almost gag when he touches me, it's not something that I can help. The one nice thing I could say about him, was that through it all, he always managed to stay smiling. There were times when I could have sworn that he was just a normal kid. Just having fun and playing this whole runaway on the streets bit as one big game. Okay, I must admit, it was a joy to have him around sometimes, just not too close. I guess I can't blame him for being a homo, but it doesn't make me any more comfortable letting him touch me and getting any sick ideas. And having him turn tricks for dirty old married geezers looking to get their rocks off, didn't help matters any. I watched him sleeping, and thanked God that I wasn't in his shoes.

"So where are we going to go tomorrow?" I asked Sarah. Resting my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

"I dunno. How about that little spot by the river? Remember? It had that bridge and that little space underneath where we could hide out? It was kinda warm at night too. And it had that little burrow in the ground." She whispered.

"Hehehe, the one with the giant beetles? I thought you hated that place."

"Well, it's getting colder now. The bugs shouldn't be as bad this time. Besides, you and I can be alone."

I looked up into her brown eyes, and gave her a kiss on the lips. "That would be nice."

Just then, I heard a slight shuffling as Sketch turned over in his sleep. He moaned a bit sleepily, and wrapped his arm around my leg, using my thigh as a pillow. I quickly pushed his arm off of me and moved my leg, letting his head drop to the floor. I scooted a bit away from him as he sleepily rubbed his head.

"Ow...what'd ya do THAT for?" He said.

"You were being a queen, dude. You freak me out."

"Well you didn't have to drop me on my HEAD, you asshole!" Sketch was getting louder, and in a room with all of these other people, we didn't want to cause a ruckus. They all paid their little piece of the 'rent' for this one night stay so they could get some sleep and a clean shower. They'd be happy to cast us back out into the cold if we put a monkey wrench in their set up here.

Sarah shushed him. "Shhh...it was an accident Sketch, he didn't mean it."

"Yes I did. I'm not down with that shit." I replied.

"Josh...c'mon. Why are you always picking on him? Just let the kid sleep."

"Fine, he can sleep all he wants to. Just not on my leg. Let him be a fag with somebody else." And I left it at that, but as I looked down at Sketch, I could tell that I really hurt his feelings. I seemed to do that a lot over the past few months. His eyes filled with water and he didn't know what to say. I didn't want to be mean, but he KNOWS I don't like that queer stuff, so why does he keep trying it? Always touching me, or smiling at me, or hanging on my every word. It made me feel funny. If he's hurt, too bad, he'll get over it. That's all there is to it.

He swallowed hard, choking back a small childish whimper, and whispered, "Well...you didn't have to drop me..." He had one of the most painful looks on his face when he said it. Then he got up and went to another part of the room to sleep. A few seconds later, I heard him sniffling in one of the darkened corners, all alone. I didn't want to make him cry about it, but I'll be damned if I take it back. A little voice in the back of my mind said to at least apologize, but what for? Geez, Sketch is always being such a fucking baby about everything. I'm sure whatever pedophile he picks up at night is turned on by the 'poor little boy' routine and puppy dog tears, but they won't work on me. I'm a realist, and fuck the people who can't deal with it.

"Jesus, Josh. I can't believe you sometimes. Do you have to be so hard on him all the time? Just cut the kid a break." Sarah said.

"Why?"

"Because he adores you! He'd sell his soul to get some attention from you. The poor kid looks up to you like you're his hero or something. You should hear how he tells everybody on the street about his 'pal' Joshua, and how he's the coolest person in the whole world. It wouldn't kill you to be nice to him once in a while."

"So what do you want me to do, let him suck my dick until he's all shits and giggles again? Would that make you happy?"

"He may be a homosexual, Josh, but he's a person first. Just like you and me. Have a conscience."

"Alright, alright...don't turn all bitchy on me. I'll tell him he's 'cool' or something tomorrow. Ok?" I said.

"Not much of an effort. But you'd be surprised how much something like that would mean to him." She was hinting that I continue the conversation somehow, but I didn't say anything in response. I just wanted some peace of mind. It's not like I hated the kid, it's just that some people are better friends when kept at a distance. He was one of them. Besides, I didn't trust him to keep it 'friends only'.

Sketch hid his face from us for the rest of the night, probably crying his eyes out in silence like he does over everything else. But it didn't take long before he went back to sleep, he must have been too exhausted to argue the point that night. After feeling a few strokes of her fingers in my hair, I let Sarah pet me into a peaceful sleep as well, her following me into dreamland shortly after. We had to leave in the morning, and then it was back out on our own. It might be a month before we get enough people and enough money to do this again. Looks like it was going to be showers in the gas station sink until then. But we'll manage somehow, we always do.

It seemed like I had only been sleeping for twenty minutes before the commotion around me woke me up again. Everybody was getting their stuff together, rolling up blankets, making sure they had all of their possessions, clothes, drugs...whatever. And we were all getting ready to bail.

I lazily sat up, allowing Sarah to rise to her feet. She yawned and said, "Where's Sketch?" I looked around, and caught a glimpse of him curled up in a corner, sleeping soundly through all of the noises around him. I pointed him out and started to walk over to wake him up. But Sarah stopped me, "No, I'll wake him up. I'd love to say that he's probably pissed at you and wouldn't even spit in your direction after last night. Sigh...but knowing Sketch, he'll probably forgive and forget anything and come back for more of your shit."

"Jesus Sarah...it's much too early for this. Fine...YOU go be the damn alarm clock for the kid. I'll grab Tonio, if it'll make you happy." She just turned away in a huff. Great, now she's pissed at me too. Some people just have no tolerance for someone speaking their mind anymore.

I watched her bring the little brat to life as his heavy eyelids fought desperately to stay closed. She finally brought him around, and he wiped the sand out of his eyes, making him look like a toddler waking up on Christmas Day. He glanced over at me, a sleepy smile appearing on his face. Then he waved at me and actually said 'good morning'! I swear, I could jab a screwdriver into his side, and he'd still forgive me. Kids. Sketch sneezed and it sounded like his cold was getting worse. I swear, he stays sick more than anyone I know.

I walked into the bathroom and tried to find a place on Tonio that he hadn't vomited on, and shook it until he opened one of his eyes. The first coherent words out of hs mouth were, "God, you stink." Then he sniffed and said. "Oh...wait a minute...that's me."

"Dude, get a shower, 'burn' these nasty clothes, and meet us outside. We've got to vacate." He looked like shit, evidently recovering from one hell of a wild ride.

"Yeah...yeah...I'll meet you outside later, yo. I just gotta catch my balance again. Hey! That stuff I took last night...that was the SHIT, yo! You've gotta try some of that with me some time! We can trip together, it'll be great. Like remember that one time, when you took that needle, and you said you heard this voice telling you that you were gonna die?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"That was funny as shit! We were cracking up, yo, and you were running around screaming, 'God told me I was gonna die! God told me I was gonna die!'"

I don't remember the experience being too funny. Bad trips will do that to you. But I knew that getting into a disagreement with Tonio about much of anything was bound to make ANY simple procedure take hours longer than neccessary. So I was willing to say anything to get him off of the floor. "Sure, fine, whatever...just...don't take too long, ok?" He didn't answer me. "OK???"

"Alright, yeah, I hear you, man! No problem. I'm already moving. Damn." He finally started to get up off of the bathroom floor as I walked out. It'll take some time before his head is right. But by the time he's as good as new, he'll be looking for some other drug to take him back down again. He's really got to get a grip before he finds himself dead of an overdose in some alley somewhere.

I made it outside to see Sarah talking to Sketch in private, probably telling him to hate me. But I don't think he was listening. I heard the end of the conversation as I walked up, with Sketch saying, "...my fault. I just won't do it again, and then we'll be friends again. I know it." But I pretended not to hear it anyway.

"You guys ready?" I asked.

"YEP!" Sketch was already regaining his pep and energy. Sometimes I think it annoyed me to know he was so happy with his lifestyle when I was so miserable with mine. Something inside of me wanted to make him see the world for what it really was. I wanted him to know the pain that I felt, to feel the helplessness and hatred that I knew so well. I don't know what the emotion was. Was it anger? Maybe desperation, depression, or envy? Maybe something altogether different. But deep down, I hated him for being able to smile and laugh and be happy with his life. He's living in some strange fantasy world where everything is ok and he's proud to be who he is. Well I'll show him how reality works if I have to cram it down his throat. The kid is going to have to learn sometime.

"Tonio is on his way. He'll be joining us as soon as he gets a shower and..." But before I could finish, Sketch sneezed again, and some of it accidently sprayed the sleeve of my shirt. "What the HELL???"

Sketch tightened up, staring at me wide eyed, "I'M SORRY! I'm SO SO SOOO SORRY!!!"

I got an angry look from Sarah and toned it down a bit. "Sigh...dammit, Sketch." I moaned, wiping myself off. "Um...it's...it's ok. Just an accident. Don't worry about it."

"I didn't mean it Josh, honest. Here, let me get it..." He said, using his shirt to wipe my sleeve off. But I jerked away from him instinctively.

"I said...look, it's ok. Really. Alright?" I took a bit of initiative, and gave him a light pat or two on the shoulder. He blushed immediately, looking like he was ready to jump into my arms and hug me as hard as his arms would allow. But he held back, just looking at me with those sparkling blue eyes, and trying to contain a smile that threatened to rip his face apart if he let it reach full blast. "We'll get Tonio to snatch you some cold medicine or something, ok?"

"Gasp...you WILL???" Sketch was so easy to please sometimes. And I actually felt a mental pat on the back myself for making him smile. I had to grin a bit.

"Yeah...well...we can't neccessarily have you walking around sick, can we? So......whatever." I walked away from him at that point before I got all goofy or something, and as I walked past Sarah, she gave me an approving smile. Evidently seeing through my attempt to not be too friendly, even when I was doing something nice. But I kept walking before she saw me smile back. I don't know why, but I'm almost afraid to be happy out here. I never know when it will all be taken away from me again.

As I began to walk out of earshot, I faintly heard Sketch trying to hold down an excited whisper as he said, "SEE? Told ya! Awww, he's the coolest!"

Tonio and I were easily able to grab a few bottles of cold medicine, throat lozengers, and cough drops for Sketch from one of the local pharmacies. It was my job to look 'suspicious' in one part of the store, while Tonio did all the dirty work in another part. And looking suspicious wasn't hard. You just go to some part of the store that you have no business in, say...a teenage boy in the feminine products aisle, and then act as shifty as possible. Rattle the zipper on your jacket a few times, and keep making eye contact with the guy behind the register every few seconds. And if he looks back, smile and then move even further back into the recesses of the store. Next thing you know, he'll be watching my every move like a hawk. And while his concentration is focused on my distraction...Tonio is filling his pockets, his pants, his underwear, his socks, and even his backwards baseball cap with everything he can get his hands on. It wasn't exactly 'Mission: Impossible', but it could be fun at times.

I waited for Tonio to slide out of the door first before following him out. I smiled warmly at the register guy, and met the rest of our crew outside. "What did you get us man?" I asked.

"Jackpot, yo! I got snackeroonies for days! Honey buns, candy bars, laffy taffy, beef jerky, the works. OH...and of course some 'legal' narcotics to battle the evil virus that has claimed our young prince." Tonio handed the medicine to Sketch, watching his eyes light up as he tore into it. It was as if he expected to get better all at once. Tonio had basically done all the work, but Sketch showered me with adoration the second he swallowed the pills. He didn't hold back this time, and he gave me a big hug. His head only came up to my chest, and he had both eyes closed as he squeezed tightly and thanked me a thousand times. I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, but Sarah was silently daring me to push him away. So I just patted him on the back and hoped he would let go of me sometime soon. Because from the looks of it, he was going to hold me like that all day.

"Ok...there there. All better. Ok...you'll be fine Sketch. Ok! You're gonna give me your cold." I was kind of hoping he'd get the hint, and I think he did, but refused to let go anyway.

Finally, he loosened up a bit, looking into my eyes. I avoided doing that. God forbid he develop a crush on me. So I looked away, staying out of direct visual contact. "Thanks soooooo much, Josh. I feel better already."

"Yeah...well...you're...you know...you're...cool." I mumbled, and I gracefully let my arms drop, secretly forcing him to let go of me. He blushed again, and a childish grin spread across his face as he stepped away from me.

"Hehehehe..." He giggled uncontrollably, and had to bite his lower lip just to stop. "I think you're cool too. Really cool. Ok?"

"Yeah, sure. Um...thanks. Ahem...so are we going to do something today or what?" I said, trying to change the subject. But both Tonio and Sarah were trying not to giggle, and Sketch was evidently overwhelmed by me at the moment. "What?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Yeah, we'll find something to do." Sarah grinned. "Come on. You coming to join us Sketch?"

"Um...no...sorry. I can't. I've got some...just some stuff, I gotta do. Maybe later?" Some stuff. I knew what that meant. It meant he had an erection to fix for some guy three times his age. And to think, I just let him hug me.

"No problem, bro. Just meet us at the old tower when the street lights come on." Tonio said, already leading us further away from the store we had just robbed blind.

"Ok! I'll be there! Bye, you guys! Bye, Josh." I said goodbye and he ran off in a hurry, his smile even showing when his back was turned.

I caught up to the others and told Sarah, "Not ONE word! You hear me?"

She just hugged one of my arms, "Oh come on, I think it's cute."

"Shut up."

Tonio, always the last to catch on, "Yo, I don't know about you, but I think little Sketch has got a crush on you, man."

"No...ya think?" I said sarchastically. Mental note, don't do anything nice for Sketch ever again.

What do you do when you're on the street, no money, no home, no source of entertainment? Pretty much anything you want to. We shopped around most of the day, going from one store to the next, trying on clothes we'd never be able to afford, playing in toy stores, reading comic books and magazines to our hearts content. Tonio always headed for the fiction writing magazines, and talking about how he was going to be some famous writer someday. I was so sick of hearing about it. Every single day, time after time after time. He was always, 'one day bro...' this, and 'I'm gonna make it yo...' that. Another lost soul with a dream that he actually thinks he's going to reach someday. I was talking about giving the kid a dose of reality, maybe I can inject some of that in HIS veins too while I'm at it.

We messed around the whole day, and once it got dark, the streetlights popped on and we hung out at our usual meeting place. An old abandoned tower, hollowed out inside so that we could have a roof over our heads if it rained. It was one of those nights. It started as just a few drops, and got worse as the night progressed. Sketch joined us almost as soon as we got there, and I sat down on the ground in the corner...Sketch moving to sit so close to me that our legs were touching. He was always shadowing me, saying everything that I said, doing whatever I did. If I brushed my hairout of my eyes, he did the same seconds later. It's like having ten little brothers all rolled into one. Sarah and Tonio always thought it was cute. Me? It bothered the hell out of me most of the time.

"So...did you eat today?" Sketch asked me. He never seemed to shut up.

"I don't usually go for snacks, but it was all we had today. So...whatever."

"Oh. Well, are you still hungry? I could bring you something if you want."

"No, that's ok. I'm fine."

"Oh. Because I was just going to say...we could maybe go get a cheeseburger or something. Two if we can find a newspaper with a coupon in it."

"How do you plan to swing that?" I asked.

"Well...I've got...some money. And I thought..."

"Keep it." I said coldly, and that was that. I was not going to eat using the money he made peddling his butt uptown.

"Oh...right. Well...it was just a thought." He said. And for a quick second, I thought he might actually be feeling down enough to be quiet for a minute or two. No such luck. "You know...if you want it...you could just...take the money. I don't really need it all that much. And you were so nice to get me medicine today..."

"LOOK! I don't want your money, ok? You got it? The last thing I need is a charity meal from the biggest boy whore in town!" I said it before I even had a chance to think about it. My emotions speaking faster than my mind could filter out the hurtful parts. And Sketch stood up right away, the waterworks already beginning to leak from his eyes. "Sigh...here we go again. Geez, Sketch, I'm sorry. Ok? Forget I said it."

But it wasn't that easy. "Forget you said it? How am I supposed to do that? Why do you hate me so much? What did I do? I try to be everything for you, and all you do is say mean things to me and hurt my feelings! Why?"

"Sketch...please. I don't hate you ok?"

"You DO hate me! You DO! I KNOW you do! Well...well, I HATE YOU TOO!!!" He screamed, and he took off running out into the pouring rain as fast as he could.

Sarah and Tonio were already giving me the 'look'. "That was kinda cold, yo. The kid does what he has to in order to survive. You can't knock him for that." Tonio said. Sarah seemed almost too upset to look at me, much less talk to me. "He'll cry it out, think about it, and he'll come back in a day or two. But you're like his idol, man. Just let him be who he is, you know? We've gotta stick together out here. Then, when I make the big time, we can all stay in a big white mansion. Right in the middle of town. And I'll put a big tower just like this one in my back yard. A little something to remind us of home."

Great, back to the fantasy world where everything is fun and pretty and no one is in pain. "Oh, is that so?" I said.

"Yeah man...with a big swimming pool, and we can eat steak all day long man. Fresh steak, and a gourmet chef, yo! One of those chefs from tv." Tonio smiled at the thought of it, while I almost gagged.

Finally, I got tired of hearing the same old shit and told him the truth. "Whatever! God, it's always the same shit with you. Look at yourself, do you really think you're going to be more than what you are right now? Do you?"

"Of course I am. One day bro..."

"One day, one day! What about TODAY, Tonio? Huh? What about THAT? Why don't you get 'real' for a second and face the facts? You woke up on the bathroom floor of a cheap hotel room, covered in piss and vomit! Who would ever make YOU a publishing offer? You're not a famous writer! You never will be! What you ARE, however, is a homeless, teenage, strung out junkie with nothing better to do than fantasize about some ridiculous bullshit that he's never going have! So shut up about it and let it sink in that your dreams don't mean shit to anybody but you."

I wasn't sure where it was coming from, or why I felt the dire need to say all of the things that I was saying. But it was justified. Tell him to get a life. He'll get over the harsh words and heal up nicely, just like Sketch will eventually. If some of my harsh words make them think a little bit, maybe it's worth a few hurt feelings. Right? It's not like they can't handle it. But soon, Sarah and I were left alone as Tonio grabbed his stuff to walk off. "Like I said, that's cold man. At least I've got a dream." He said, his voice hurt, but mellow. Then he covered his head and traveled out, probably to get a strong enough buzz to make him forget his problems for the night.

I turned to Sarah and said, "I suppose you're going to walk out on me too, is that it?"

"I'm starting to wonder why I didn't a long time ago." She stared me down and then finally said, "Goodnight Josh." as she walked out into the rain. I went after her and put my hand on her arm, but she pulled away and spun to yell at me some more. "YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU???"

"Get what?!?!"

"What you think, what you do, what you say...it HURTS people, Josh! You seriously know how to fuck people's heads up! Congratulations! I'm sure that talent will get you really far someday!"

"Sarah, I didn't mean to hurt their feelings on purpose! I was giving them a dose of reality!"

"WHO'S reality? Theirs? Or just YOURS? You know, just because you want to walk around being pissed off at the world and saying the first hurtful thing that comes to mind...doesn't mean that we have to put up with it! Believe it or not...there ARE some people in this world who DON'T like to think of life as being some unbearably miserable existance! It's NOT always some harsh struggle, or a series of dissappointments and regrets, or a string of arguments based on whatever YOUR pigheaded opinion happens to be on the subject! Sometimes, Josh...sometimes life is fun. Sometimes it can be truly beautiful. Even for 'people like us' who obviously don't have a whole lot to be happy about."

She wasn't getting me at all. She had no idea what I was saying. I was right! Who wants to live in a fantasy world? Who wants to smile all day long and wish upon falling stars anymore? This is real life! And real life is not meant to be some joyride. "You don't understand! I didn't have it easy, you didn't have it easy..."

"NOBODY has it EASY, Josh! But some people can actually appreciate what they have, instead of CONSTANTLY bitching over what they don't! But you won't LET us be happy, will you? You'll just keep spitting fire in our direction over and over and over again until we're ALL just as sick and as mean and as bitter as YOU are! That's what you want, isn't it? You think you're life is fucked up, so you want everybody ELSE to feel the same way so you won't be alone! Well why don't you try joining us on the bright side for a fucking change?!?! Because I, for one, am SICK and TIRED of having my hopes and dreams stomped on by some selfish asshole who thinks you have to be 'delusional' to be happy about ANYTHING! So are the others!"

"I just wanted to speak what was on my mind! I wanted to hit them with the TRUTH!"

"YOU WANNA KNOW THE TRUTH, JOSH??? The TRUTH is...sometimes I think we would all be a hell of a lot happier without you." I don't know what it was about that statement that hurt me so much, but I was paralyzed. Standing there, getting wet, with nothing else to say in my defense. I felt it, in my heart first, and then in the pit of my stomach. This hollow ache that made me feel so terrible about the things I said to them. All of them. And yet not wanting to give into it. A little voice in the back of mind was trying desperately to break through. Telling me to let go, telling me to listen to her, to apologize and make ammends while I still can. But, although I was hurting inside, I refused to let her see me defeated. Any of them. They're oversensitive anyway. The kid WAS a whore! Tonio IS a drug addict! I was just calling it like I see it. I hurt their feelings...so what? How many times have I had MY feelings hurt? When has anyone every given ME a break? I had to work and struggle, and I have nothing to show for it. Why should they be proud of themselves? If you ask me, they have nothing to be proud of.

I kept battling it out in my head, trying to disprove and argue every point that she made. SHE was wrong, completely insane. What's so beautiful about being lost and confused and cold and hungry in a world that doesn't give a damn about any of us at all? Beautiful? Happy? Proud? These things are not reality! This ice cold rain and a hungry stomach...that's all the reality I need. But through all my internal bickering and my search for a way to prove to her how stupid she sounds...the pain was still there. And I knew, deep down, that I had hurt a lot of people's feelings. And it was too late to take it back now. Sarah looked me dead in the eye, until she realized that I was agonizing over what she said. But instead of coming to comfort me like she usually does, she simply said, "...You see? THAT'S how it feels. Sucks...doesn't it?" And she just turned to walk away. Leaving me standing there in the cold. Alone.

Sarah...?" I called, almost feeling a tear come to my eye.

"Enjoy the wake up call, asshole!" And she kept walking. I just closed my eyes, and let the tears run from them openly, mixing with the rain water and releasing the pain inside. Well, I had two choices...either sleep there in the tower alone, or go back to the alley. If I got a quick fix from somebody, I not only would take some of this pain away, but I'd be able to sleep through almost anything. I think I'll hit the alley. It's been about a week and a half, and I needed something that felt 'good' for a change.

I didn't bother to cover my head as I walked through the rain that night. It was starting to let up a little anyway, and besides, it was hiding the fact that I was crying. I thought back to the night when I was kicked out of the house. The night when my father dragged me out on a night just like this, and beat me up. Tossing me out of his life forever. I thought about the 'friends' in school who would have laughed at me if I had been so bold as to ask them for help. And now, my only family out here on the streets...my girlfriend, my little brother, my partner in crime...after all the smiles and good times they've given me...I've run them away too. I never meant to hurt them. But life, to me, was no fun. It was never something to smile about. No laughter or giggles or giddy feelings of love. It was just one day after another, time ticking away until my life would one day be over. Maybe I was jealous. Maybe it was their ability to smile, to dream, to still respect themselves no matter how far they sank in society's eyes, that I wanted more than anything. To finally feel free of this ache inside. Who knows? All I was concerned with now was getting some drugs into my system and being taken away from the pain for a while.

As I approached the alley, it was like having a heavy wind push against me. My conscience screaming at me to turn back. But I kept going, determined to escape into a fantasy world of my own for a while. I wasn't going to let this pass me by. I needed it. It's easier for a teenager to get drugs than it is to get alcohol. And I was looking for a full trip tonight. I saw my 'connection', Jimmy, serving a customer in front of me. Then I stepped up to make a deal of my own. Jimmy owed me a few favors, and even though he HATES to pay up, I got a nice little stash for free. I chose the cleanest corner of the alley that I could, underneath some fire escape steps, and tied up my arm. Finally, something that was going to feel gooood.

The voices in my head went wild as I unsheathed the needle. It was like the last trip that Tonio was talking about, where I freaked out and thought God was talking to me directly. Hehehe, now that I think about it, it WAS kinda funny. God doesn't talk to me anymore. I doubt he even cares. I felt that silent wind blowing hard up against me, dust being kicked up into my eyes. As though nature itself were trying to get my attention. But I was in pain, lots of pain...and I knew it was time to get totally obliviated. I injected the needle into my arm, and took the whole vile until it was empty. It was fire, traveling through my veins like greased lightning. I could feel it enter my heart, where it was boosted out to the rest of my system at the speed of light. My eyes fluttered open as the drug took me higher than I had ever been before. And it kept rising...and rising...and rising. Strange, I should have peaked by now. But I didn't. The ecstacy inside of me just kept floating higher and higher...and I began to get nervous. What the hell was going on here? Stay calm Joshua...stay calm. Don't get excited, the adrenaline might make it worse. Deep breaths...chill out. It'll peak. It HAS to! I tried to keep my cool, but soon the high was so strong that my body began to shake and convulse. It was too much! Something had been slipped into the stash! On accident? On purpose? What do I do??? It's already in my system!!! I began thinking of Sarah, of Sketch, of Tonio. Would they even know where I was if I could somehow call them for help? Would they care? If I were to die tonight...would they know I was gone? I got scared, and soon that fear turned to terror as my body began going into full blown seizures! Stop! Stop! This can't be happening! I'm in control! I'm...In...Control!!!

My heart was beating so hard that the pulse throbbed in my ears. And then...it began to slow down. My mind began to wander all on its own, and my body began to grow cold. The voices of the past few days began to haunt me, and I saw the scenes played out again, as if for the first time.

"Can't sleep?"

"Well...you didn't have to drop me."

"That was the SHIT, yo!"

"REALLY??? You'd do that for me?"

"I think it's cute!"

"One day bro..."

"You know...you could...just take the money..."

"GET OUT!!! FUCKING PUNK!!!"

"WELL...I HATE YOU TOO!!!"

"That's cold, yo. At least I've got dreams."

"We would all be a lot happier without you."

"Enjoy the wake up call, asshole!"

...asshole...

...asshole....

...asshole....................

-

-

-

-

That was 15 years ago to the day. My body, twitching and convulsing in that alley, the rest of my life force being drained from its physical shell. Make no mistake...I DID die in that desolate place. One mistake...that's all it took. One overdose, and the life that I supposedly hated so much, was gone. No return, no second chance. It was over in the blink of an eye, and I wanted it back. It was so long ago, but I remember every detail like it happened ten minutes ago. Funny thing about us out here...we remember everythig, all the time, flawlessly. No matter how much we would sometimes like to forget.

My name is Joshua. I'm probably one of the younger members of my order in this part of town, although I know that there are others my age elsewhere. Other 'what', you might ask. Well, it's hard to say. I am not really high enough on the ladder to call myself an 'angel' yet. I've never been to Heaven, nor have I ever seen it, or even know if it exists. Somehow, it doesn't work like that. I'm still me, still completely conscious, and yet, I'm no longer alive. It would take decades to explain in a way that the living would understand.

My life had been a twisted mess of drugs, alcahol, and self loathing. I had pushed my friends away, my family, treated them like garbage, and cried when they didn't all come running back to me in my time of need. I was silly to think they would after the things I'd done to them. Only now, when looking back at my life, do I see things differently. 15 years...and my life is still haunting me.

I remember thinking that my life was pointless. More of a punishment than a blessing. I wondered if anyone would care if I were to suddenly disappear from the face of the Earth. Or if they would just move on. But someone did care. And I never knew it.

Someone was watching over me from day one, doing all he could to help me through every day of my life and guide me in the right direction. But I refused to listen, and the choices were all mine. All of them. I ignored the little voices in my head and made every bad decision that I could. Without fear, without guilt. I knew it was wrong to steal, but I did it anyway. I knew it was wrong to hurt my friends and say the things I said to them, but I did it anyway. I knew it was wrong to take that first shot of heroin in that darkened alley on the west side of town...but once the pain from the prick of the needle was gone, I relished in the pleasure it brought me. That was the path that I chose. Life wasn't about beauty and dreams, it was about struggle and fighting and doing whatever it takes to come out standing on top. That's what I thought back then. And now? Now I look back at my life, and wonder how I survived as long as I did.

The night I died...I had no one. Not Sarah, not Sketch, not Tonio...no one. I died alone in a dingy alley where nobody knew me from the trash in the dumpster. The experience that I had, after taking my last breath, was not what I was expecting. I figured that there would be a cliche tunnel of light, a path to the world beyond where I'd get a robe, some wings, and a harp, and live forever with the goodie goodies upstairs. But that's not how it was at all. Not for me. Death hurt...a LOT. The terror of feeling your body breakdown, the life being bled from it, with no possible hope of reversing the damage you've done to it, is more nightmarish than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. Even after it happened to me, I still can't quite describe a fraction of the horror that passed through me at that moment. It was over, the drug had done its job. And then came...the 'shift'. From one reality to another. A nauseatingly dizzy transition into an entirely different environment. One where everything was greyish, brittle, and dull. All of life's sounds were muffled around me, it was like being at the bottom of a murky fish tank. My feet barely touched the ground, mostly because I had no weight. Worse than that, I had no...'substance'. No heartbeat, no bloodflow, no breath, no voice. I couldn't feel anything. I'd like to say that my body was 'numb'...but I didn't even feel THAT. There was nothing to me at all, and I never knew how much 'life' flowed through me until it wasn't there anymore.

There was a wind blowing through the alley where I stood that night, but it passed right through me. I felt no breeze, no change in temperature, no sensations at all. If I hadn't seen it blowing the trash around my feet, I wouldn't have even known it was there. I was so hollow inside that I felt like I would collapse in on myself and evaporate into thin air. I was too weightless to even move on my own without gliding out of control.

I remember that it was at that moment that I saw him not far away from me. A man, about 30 years old, good looking, slim, and the bluest eyes. He had short dark brown hair and stood just a little bit taller than me. He had such a look of sorrow in his eyes. Such pity. And when he first spoke to me, "I'm so sorry, Joshua..." I recognized that voice...

...It was him. The inner voice that had been screaming to me in the back of my mind all along. Ever since the day I was born.

He had been there to try to talk me out of sleeping with the lady next door. He told me where to runaway to when I found Sarah. He had been there to tell me to apolgize for my harsh words. He was there to comfort me when my real mother died, back when I was only 8 years old. He had been there during summer camp, during my first dentist appointment, the grade school bully, first day at kindergarten, first kiss...all my life. Guiding me as that little spark of consciousness that came to mind before every bad decision I ever made. It was HIM who had been trying to get me back on the right path from the beginning. But I failed him. Constantly. I ignored him most times. Shut out his warnings and his advice and did whatever the hell I felt like doing. It was ME who should have been sorry. He tried, but I just didn't care back then. I know that now.

I didn't understand his purpose in my life until it was too late. That night, as we both looked down at my body, lying there in a heap of trash, my eyes partially open with a blank stare, a thick soupy fluid running out of my mouth and down onto my chest, I realized what I had done. How severe and permanent it was. Is THIS what was meant for me? What happened? How did I get from being a happy little boy to...to...THIS? I didn't get it, I didn't WANT to get it! I turned away in disgust, and without knowing exactly how to react, my fear turned to anger. Then my anger lashed out uncontrollably towards the man in front of me.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO ME??? HOW COULD YOU LET THIS GO ON? ANSWER ME!!! WHY??? HUH??? WHY??? TELL ME!!! YOU SON OF A BITCH...TELL ME!!!!" I screamed, swinging and punching with all my might. But it was all in vain. How could I hurt him? I had no muscles, no power, nothing to fight with. My voice, as hard as I tried to scream, never got to anything higher than a whisper. My fists swung quickly, but landed with a feather light touch against his ethereal body. I was weightless, and I couldn't even get enough of a foothold to try harder to hurt him. My body was gone, laying there in an alley for some 'stranger' to find later. I didn't want to look, and yet, I couldn't help but look. And the horror of it all made me strike out at the figure with even more fury.

"You can't hurt me, Joshua." He whispered back to me. "Your term has been prematurely cut short. There's nothing more I can do for you now. I'm sorry"

"What are you talking about? What's going on? Why can't I fucking TALK???" I strained as much as I could to let my voice reach a normal level, but it was simply nonexistant.

"Whispers are all you have now, Joshua." He said. "There's no going back to the life you had. It's over."

It took a moment or two for me to even try to work out what he was telling me. The whole thing seemed so surreal. I couldn't even focus. "What...what's going to happen to me?"

There was a pause, then he whispered, "...You've taken your own life, Joshua. There is no chance for ascension, no chance for resurrection either. Not now anyway. The council will review your case...but chances are, you won't make it. They often view overdoses from continuous drug use as a form of suicide. The council will not pardon that level of recklessness."

"Council? Pardon? Won't make it? What do you mean? Am I...am I going to Hell or something? Am I going to be punished?"

"There is no 'punishment' here...only understanding and ignorance. That's all. You will learn all of the rules and regulations later, but most importantly, you will have to let go of the life you once had and realize that the Earth body you once had is gone. Then you will begin your study."

"My study?"

"Yes. You will have to work to learn what life truly is, before you can move on. They are quite specific about that. You will probably be given field duty."

The more he spoke, the more confused I became. Everything was happening so fast. He saw the confusion in my eyes, and spoke again. "Don't even attempt to understand it now. It will take you years to even BEGIN to grasp the concepts about to be given to you. You will figure it out soon enough."

Fifteen long years, and I still don't completely understand what I was told that day. I was given over to a group of people known only as 'THEM'. No names, no individual differences, just....'Them'. To go from being alive to a world where suddenly everything is vague and uncertain, foreign and strange, is like being born at the age of 25 and suddenly told to go out into a world you don't understand. I had an entirely new set of rules to 'live' by and learn from scratch. How am I supposed to figure this out? I thought it would be easy. You die, you go to Heaven or Hell, and just...chill out for the rest of eternity. That's how it was supposed to be, right? But it didn't work like that. There were laws and red tape and lessons to be learned. You had to 'graduate' from Earth in order to pass on to the next level. And there was no cheating on the test...even if you die before your time. There was no easy way out. How can you say that you're ready to give up living when you have no idea what life really is? I had only seen it from my point of view...and now, I was going to see it from a different perspective. And that's when the REAL lessons began.

'They' had declared me unsuitable for ascension. Ascension to where? Don't ask. Trying to get a question answered in this place is like trying to knock down a mountain of bricks with your bare hands. The one thing I did understand, was that I was also unsuitable for resurrection. Which meant a rebirth as someone else, with a memory wipe, and an entirely different existence altogether. No chance, not for me. No returning to the surface, no second shot at getting it right. Not until I had been cleared by the council. And considering how much they frown on suicides, that could be a loooong time. What's a few millenia to these people? They've got nothing BUT time on their hands. So, just as the figure in the alley had told me, I was given 'field duty'. The only other option for people like me, where I could still learn the lessons from my life without actually being a part of it. I was to be a guardian to another human being. Someone to watch over him from the moment of his birth, to the day he joined me here in the 'after'. That could be anywhere from 75 to 90 years! Or, in cases like mine, only 16. The child I was to watch over had already been conceived, all I had to do was to wait for it to be born. Nine months in this place with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs? No wonder ghosts haunt people all the time. It's the only entertainment we've got.

I had been moping around for a few days, not talking to anyone else in this weird place. I felt so strange, not having any feeling inside me, not being able to feel the sun's warmth, or feel the ground beneath my feet. No sense of taste, or smell, or anything. And my eyes still couldn't really see clearly. The light passed right through them and my retinas could only catch so much of it, making everything colorless and dim. Blurry at best. I didn't even feel like I existed at all...then again, I guess I didn't. Jesus! I didn't even have any saliva in my mouth! This sucks!

But after spending so much time alone, the figure from the alley came to seek me out, and sat down next to me in the alley where we had first made contact. I 'haunted' that spot where my body was, for hours and hours at a time. Wondering if I could somehow take it all back. No such luck. Eventually, someone had found the body and reported it to the police. It was decayed, and bugs had made a nest wherever they could find a spot. It was so hard to watch. They took it away to the morgue, and that was the last I saw of it. I was too scared to follow it and see what happened next. I had an uncle who was a mortician once, and to see my body cut up and 'emptied' would be more than I could handle. But even with the body gone, I couldn't seem to leave that spot, and the figure knew exactly where I'd be.

"Hey..." He whispered.

"Am I that predictable, that you can find me so easily?" I replied sadly. I missed my voice, I was almost forgetting what it sounded like.

"Don't sweat it kid. We all are. When my term was over, I haunted the scene of the accident for almost a year. It's hard to let go." He said. "Drinking and driving...I really should have learned my lesson much earlier than I did. The first time I saw you take a drink, I wanted to slap the bottle out of your hand. Guess I should have tried harder to warn you before you moved on to the dangerous stuff."

"Actually...I think I remember not wanting to take that drink." I said.

"Yeah, well...we can only whisper an influence. We can't effect free will. No way around it." He told me. "But I have to admit, I learned a lot looking out for you. I learned what I should have been learning on my own while I was alive. I think that's the purpose of all this. They've set up quite a system here in the 'after'."

I nodded in agreement, and looked back down to the ground. There was an empty spot where my body used to lay, and tomorrow...there would be more trash there to fill it. Not a single person who knew what happened would care. And not a single person who cared would know what happened. My life, just like my afterlife, were both stuck in limbo. And there was no way out. I wanted to cry, to mourn the loss of everything and everyone I ever knew. And I couldn't even do THAT. I had no tears, not a single one. I could feel the sharp painful emotions, but had no way to get it out of me...no way to get rid of it. No matter how hard I tried. He evidently saw me struggling with it, and while trying to comfort me he said, "Hey, hey...don't do that. Emotions are tricky, but you'll learn how to express them differently in time. Someone will show you how it works. Just take it easy for now, ok? Trust me, you'll go insane after too much of that. The last thing we need is another tantrum throwing maniac ghost like the ones you see in the movies." He smiled, but he was getting no laughs from me. Hell, I didn't even know if I COULD laugh anymore, not that I had anything to laugh about. "Joshua...listen to me. I know this is hard for you. But it will get easier with time. You'll learn little things here and there, adapt to your spiritual body, and eventually you'll deal with it. It just takes time."

"I don't understand. Why am I even here? How am I going to get out of this place?" I said, still trying to cry by instinct.

"Get out of WHAT place? Existence? Sorry bud, no escape from that. Once you're born...you're stuck here with the rest of us sorry saps." Again, he tried to get me to smile. No luck. Not now, not ever again. His smile faded, and he attempted to change the subject. "So...I hear you got an assignment?"

"Is THAT what they call it? An 'assignment'?" Self pity without tears is just empty.

"You know, if you do this right, there's a chance they may set you up to be reborn someday. I'm looking forward to them giving me a second shot. Hopefully they'll give me a good one. Man, I thought it all out. In my next life I want to be soooo beautiful. Real teen heart throb material. Oh, and smart, but not too nerdy. What do you think about me with blond hair...?"

I interrupted him, "Why are you here? I don't need your babbling right now, ok?!?!" I said angrily. But you just can't shout at someone with no voice, it doesn't have the same feeling behind it.

"There you go again..."

"WHAT?"

"Striking out with your anger instead of trying to figure out ways to accept your position. Once you accept it, you can learn from it...then you can improve on it. Right now all you're doing is blowing off steam and delaying any kind of true understanding."

"Look! I don't want to hear this right now! So leave me alone!" I said, and stood up to walk away. How did he stay so calm through all this? Wasn't this killing him the way it was killing me?

"Joshua, first things first...you're dead. Get it? D-E-A-D, dead. That's it. No more. End of story. No waking up from a dream, no jumping out of a casket and yelling 'surprise'. You're gone, your body has been drained, embalmed, and buried. Even if you COULD go back to your body, what would you do? Walk around town with no heart, no lungs, and just wait around for your body to decay? What's done is done, and eventually you WILL have to move on. Otherwise, you're going to be here for a long long time. And I don't intend to be here with you." Why was he doing this? DAMMIT, WHY CAN'T I CRY??? "Second of all...you're going to have to get better control of your emotions, Joshua. I'm serious about that. You can't just punch a brick wall or sob over somebody's shoulder anymore, it doesn't work like that. You don't have a body anymore, your essence, your conscious, your emotions...that's all you are. THAT'S your body now. If you keep this up, you're going to find yourself out of balance and you're going to change your very existence into something 'else'. And believe me, you don't want that. Your anger and your misery will corrupt you completely, there's no easy way to get rid of that now, and if your spirit becomes tainted, it'll begin to grow worse all on its own, like a cancer. Once that happens, there's no going back. To say you'll be insane is an understatement."

Hearing him say that rattled me. Made me attempt to calm down a bit. But the more I buried it, the worse it got. I was angry, sad, scared, and the feelings were just so strong. But I couldn't do anything about it. "Please...help me..."

He sighed, and walked over to put his hand on my shoulder. It had no feeling, no weight, but I knew it was there. "This is about 'you' now, Joshua. You're the only one who can beat this." I wasn't sure that I had the strength to beat it. I was lost in a world that I didn't understand. What was I supposed to do, suddenly chuck away everything that I had learned in life and start all over? The figure thought for a moment, then spoke again, "Do you remember that one time in little league, when you were 9 years old, and big Johnny Preston was pitching right at you so he could scare you into thinking you couldn't hit it?"

It was a strange time to bring that up, but it was a humorous memory. "Heh...yeah. I hit it right back at him and they had to carry him off the field in a stretcher. I didn't even know he was unconscious until I crossed home plate." I smiled at the thought of it.

"Exactly. And while you were up at the bat, you were so terrified that you were litterally knocking your knees together."

"Yeah. This little voice in my head kept telling me not to be scared, but I was...anyway..." And I looked over at him, remembering that he had been there the whole time. Whispering confidence and bravery in my ear.

He nodded and smiled when he saw my recognition. "I tried, so hard, to get you to hear me. I said it over and over again. 'You can do it Josh! You can do it! Don't be afraid, he's a kid just like you are. Just go for it.'" He giggled a bit at the memory. "But nothing I said or did could help you. I thought for sure you would just tune me out again. You were such a stubborn boy sometimes, I swear I nearly went crazy trying to look out for you. So, after throwing my hands up in, yet another defeat...I stepped away and let you do it yourself. In my mind I knew, I just KNEW you'd strike out on purpose and let him win. But I was wrong. You buckled up, took your swing, and sent that little brat right to the emergency room! You'll never know how proud I was of you that day. Even HIS guardian had to laugh."

"Things were much more simple back then." I said, my sadness returning to me.

"No they weren't. This is no different. It wasn't ME that got you through that baseball game, Josh. It was YOU. YOU made it happen on your own. You learned to walk on your own, talk on your own, make friends on your own. Those were all your choices, not mine, and the new choices you make now will determine how long you're stuck here in this limbo. You have to make the decision to get through this and come out as a better person. YOU have to do it. No one can do it for you. I can preach, and advise, and inspire, and influence you until my face turns blue. But unless you make a conscious choice to better your position...unless you take that swing...you're just going to keep letting the bullies in your path win, time and time again." He looked at me to see if he was getting through, and then turned me to face him. "You can do this kid. I KNOW you can."

"What is it that I'm supposed to learn from all this? What if I screw up again? I couldn't even make my OWN life work, and now I'm going to watch after someone else???"

"You'll be fine. When your client is born, watch him, get to know him. You'll be with him every second of every day. You'll cheer him on through his good times, and you'll comfort him through his bad times. You'll grow to love him very quickly, and you will learn more from watching him grow than you ever thought possible in your own life." He walked up and lightly grabbed both sides of my face, "It won't be easy, Joshua. There will be times when he won't listen. Times when he pretends not to hear you. Times when you see him screwing up royally and you won't be able to stop him. And times when he makes the kinda mistakes that could cost him dearly...maybe even cost him his life." He told me, giving me a concerned look. "But together, you two will learn and grow as one for as much time as he is allowed for his term. And one day...you'll be standing here giving him the same speech that I'm giving to you now."

"I don't know if I can. How am I supposed to be there for him? How am I supposed to know what's right?"

"You won't. And neither will he. But you'll work out some kind of co-existence based on what is most important. I'm sure of it." The figure told me, now taking his hands down from my face, and placing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't let him out of your sight. Not even for a second. Got it?"

"Y-y-yeah...I think so."

"No no no...don't THINK so. KNOW so. There's a reason you've been given this assignment, Joshua. They chose this boy to guide you s much as you are guiding him. This is no game. This is a 'life', and it'll be up to you to protect it and influence it as best as you can from your limited position. You're his conscience now, kid. Just pray that he doesn't make the same mistakes you did."

With that, he stood up, and began to walk away from me. "Wait...wait! Is that...is that it?" I asked him.

"That's it."

"Are you just gonna leave me here?" I asked him, and his eyes drooped a little bit.

"Joshua...I've been watching you your entire life, and despite all you're flaws and imperfections, despite all you mistakes and regrets, I see nothing but 'gold' in you, boy. And I know what kind of person you can be when it's needed. You're gonna be great."

"Then you are leaving..." I said sadly.

"It's someone else's turn to stand where you stood. But keep your eyes open. You never know when your client's path will cross with mine." He gave me half a smile and a slight wave as he backed away out of my focus. But not before tellng me, "By the way...I hear your assignment is a homosexual. Or at least he will be when he gets slightly older. Use your heart when dealng with him, Joshua. Remember...as guardian and host, it's your duty to learn a great deal as well."

With that he was gone, and I was left alone again. With only a few short months until my client was born. Time to wander. Time to think. Time to get usd to this spiritual body of mine. Or was it just an extended time to worry? Possibly an extra punishment for what I've done. Or maybe an opportunity to find ways to make up for it. One thing I'm constantly being told in this limbo is that there was no punishment except that which we make for ourselves. That never seemed like a difficult concept to grasp until I was forced to deal with it. A homosexual...how was I going to watch out for someone who's....gay? I don't know anything about being gay. I dont know anything about what they think or how they feel. Sighhh...I can't help but think that this is unfair. But if I'm ever going to go....'elsewhere' someday, I'm going to have to figure it out somehow. God, help me.

I stood up....looking down at that barren spot in the alley, for what I hoped was the last time. I didn't even know where I was buried. No funeral, no tombstone, nothing. So I guess this heap of trash will have to be my permanent marker. My reminder that I was ever alive. And I walked away, to find my peace in the ife of another.

That was 15 years ago. And here I stand, watching my client sleep. Just a boy still. Time passes so fast. But the figure was right, I've grown to love him. Care for him. And I'd do anything to protect him. Especially now that he's 14 and going into high school tomorrow morning for the first time. The times are sure to become increasingly difficult in the days to come. And I'm going to have my hands full. But I'll be there. With everything I have to give...I'll be there for him. Through thick and thin, good times and bad. I'll be there. Forever.

For Always.....