Drifter

It's hard to escape your past. It's hard to forgive and forget. And it's not much easier taking revenge.

After dying, I just floated. Yup, I just sort of hung in mid air until I heard the anguished cries of my mother, the low rumble of an uneasy crowd, and the reassuring voices of the firefighters. Then I wandered over to the window, and slid right through it. Let me tell you, being a free spirit was more disorienting then any drink or drug I ever had. 

I was so surprised by this, I didn't realize I was hovering right infront of my mother. Her makeup was a stream of black down her face, and her hunched over, anguished position was painful to see. So different from the serious, hard working lady I knew and loved.

It was worse then dying to see her like that.

When my sisters came home, stumbling and drunk, they didn't really grasp what was going on. When my brother came home, he seemed paralyzed until he started swearing through a tear saturated voice that he would find whoever did this. The only reassurance I could gain from the whole situation.

The police officers declared the cause of the fire a result of smoking. Again, not helpful. 

I didn't feel the bitter winter air or the light clumps of snow dancing in the breeze. I don't think many others did either. After a few hours, my family was taken in by a kind hearted neighbor. That was a bad idea to stay with them.