one hundred and six.
Callum
Now I don’t have anything. Not even the Liberation Militia. And there’s still three months to go before I meet up with Morgan and my brother again. I miss them. When you work with people for so long, your life in their hands and their lives in yours, they almost become family. Sometimes even closer than real family. I thought about going to see Mum. I even got so far as to stand outside my aunt’s house. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her. But then I changed my mind. Some things are best left unsaid. And seeing me would hurt Mum even more than not seeing me, especially as there was no way I could stay.
Sometimes when it’s late at night and I’m all alone in a room or sleeping rough on the streets, I look up at the moon or one of the stars and imagine that at that precise moment, she is looking at the very same thing.
Why did she cry?
I guess I’ll never know. I doubt if I’ll ever see her again.
I’ve finally figured it out. I’m dead. I died a long time ago, woke up in hell and didn’t even realize. Thinking about it, I must’ve died just before I started at Heathcroft school. That’s what happened.
I know I’m right.