The doctor looked at me with the oddest expression. It wasn't with sympathy for my loss, but rather anger as if he were staring at my parents' murderer. It would have frightened me had I not been so numb. The doctor's words still stung me.

"They're gone. You're alone."

No, stung wasn't the right word. Pierced through me, that was a bit better, but the true feelings of it cannot be expressed in words. No word or phrasing of words in the English language is powerful enough.

I sat in the lobby of the hospital, staring at the tile floor as random people walked by me in a blur. I suppose I had been there for hours, but I truely had no recognition of the time. At the moment, it was hard to breathe. Eventually, I saw the chief of police show up and begin talking to the doctor. I would not have noticed had they not pointed at me several times. Once the two stopped their whispering, the chief sank to his knees before me.

"Mark?" he asked me gently. I didn't even raise my eyes to meet his. Without looking at his face, I could tell he was young. I was wondering how he'd managed to get to the chief position on the police force being as young as he is. His head was shaven, but dark stubble was easily seen. I hadn't looked at his eyes yet, but out of the corner of my own, I could tell they were dark. It matched his tan skin.

"Mark?" he asked me again. This time, I blinked before I met his gaze. Dark brown. He gasped when he saw my eyes. Most people do. They're not use to seeing mixed eyes. He scoffed at his surprise, as if he'd known what to expect and was just annoyed with his reaction. I suppose that's why he was being so calm with me.

"I'm very sorry for your loss." The moment he began speaking, I knew what he was going to say from the unnaturally even sound of his deep voice. "I'm Sam, and you're going to be staying with me, if you don't mind." It sounded as if he was giving me an option, but I knew better. There was no community home around here; the town was too small. So, I truely had no where else to go. I had no option; he was just trying to get me to talk. That's when the doctor came over and whispered something in Sam's ear. I think Sam said "oh". No matter, I really didn't care.

His dark face turned back to me. "I'm going to take you home now," he said once again with his even voice. His words sounded so practiced, too focused. He stood, offering me a hand. I stood as well, but I ignored his hand. I saw him shrug from my peripherial vision and begin to walk past me.

I allowed him to lead me to his cruiser where he opened the passenger door for me. I silently sat in the uncomfortable seat and pulled on my seat belt. After what happened with my parents, risks weren't high on my 'to do' list, and being in a car with an officer influenced the decision to stay safe as well. He shrugged into his seat, strapping himself in, too. The engine roared with life and we proceeded onto the main road. I'd taken to staring at the glove box.

"I have a suitcase with some of your clothes," he said suddenly. I didn't lift my head to agknowlage him, instead just allowed him to continue talking. "So you won't have to go naked, you know?" Ah, so he was trying to lighten the mood. Well, after being in a hospital for at least 24 hours just to find out that your parents had died, you don't really want to be cheered up. Sam let out a long sigh, clearly giving up on that topic.

"So," he began again. "Sixteen, rough age, huh?" I almost laughed that he was expecting an answer from me. My staring contest with the glove box continued. "I remember sixteen." When was that, yesterday? Under normal circumstances I would have rolled my eyes and groaned, but today I just didn't feel myself. I'm sure that would be understandable, though. "A lot of shit- er, pardon my french- stuff happened to me then." Pardon his french? He made it well aware that he knew my age; I'd heard worse words than 'shit'. "All the stuff that you're going through will become clearer for you... they did for me." I think he was just rambling. What he was saying made no sense to me at all.

Eventually, Sam stopped trying to make small talk; he probably knew it was a useless game to try and get a response from me. I was briefly aware of our change in scenary. We went from being in a small town to being in the middle of nowhere. Correction: we were in the middle of no where on a cliff. A storm was coming; I could tell. Over the cliff I could see the water, and white caps were forming in the ocean. The ocean... without thinking, I began to sing "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" in my head.

00000

Someone was shaking me awake.

"Mark!" that same someone yelled. My eyes fluttered open to see someone I didn't know staring at me. He was tan, dark eyes, and he had dark curls that would have put Annie the Orphan to shame. He kind of reminded me of Sam. The strange person laughed. "There you are sleeping beauty! Ha, your eyes are strange. One brown, one green. Odd. Oh well, welcome home!" Great, a chatter box. I looked around at 'home'. The house infront of me was nothing more than a light blue shack overlooking the ocean. I hoped it was bigger on the inside, or that it was just the shed.

"Come on!" the boy said impatiently. He'd already gotten my suitcase, I assumed, and headed off to the shack. Damn, it was the house. I swallowed the gulp in my throat and stood from the car.

Inside was a bit better I suppose. There was a small kitchen that lead into a rather homey looking den. In the corner of the room was a very, very small staircase. Well, more like small platforms going up. I assumed that was the 'upstairs'. Behind the island in the kitchen was the stove and fridge. Just to the left of that was a small entrance to, as I could see, the laundry closet. It was so small it couldn't even be considered a room. The entire house was the same shade of light blue that the outside was, and it was decorated in a disgusting looking green 60's print. In all honesty, it looked like a beach shack. Something in me told me it was just that. The boy with the suitcase disappeared somewhere, but Sam was standing in the small kitchen with a very small women by his side. She looked utterly beautiful. She had soft curls of blonde and even softer blue eyes. She looked like the ideal mother. She reminded me of my own...

"Mark," Sam said, his voice piercing through my thoughts and observations. "This is my wife, Anne." She approached me, smiling. She truely looked as though she was happy to see me, like a long lost family member. I shrank away from her.

"Hi, Mark," she greeted me with a soft soprano voice. Apparently everything about her was delicate. I nodded to show that I'd heard her. Her smile became awkward quickly, as if she was expecting something.

"He doesn't talk," Sam whispered to her. Her eyes went wide. That was a lie; I did talk. But, I let them think what they wanted. I doubted I would be saying anything to them anyway.

"Well," she began again, slightly nervous. I assumed she thought she could handle it if I was polite in response. I would be on my best behavior, but that's not saying much for me. I kind of felt bad for her. Too bad she would have to deal with me until they finally kicked me out. "Are you hungry, Mark?" I slightly shook my head. I was hungry, but I didn't feel much like eating. Anything I consumed would probably just be vomitted up later, anyway. Why waste prescious resources?

The boy from earlier bounded into the kitchen at a frightingly unhuman speed. I would have said something, but I couldn't bring myself to look up from the sand covered wood floor.

"Room's clean!" the boy announced. Yay? Does he want a prize or something? Sam smiled.

"Well, then, Mark, lets go to your room," he said, removing his hand from around Anne's waste and walking into the small den. He lead me up the platforms and into a condensed hall. We went into the first door on the right. The room was the same blue as the rest of the house. Two beds were on opposite sides of it, looking a bit like a dorm room. There was a folding door on either side, hiding a closet. There were two dressers, both next to either bed. In the middle of the room was a small entertainment system. On one of the beds sat the suitcase.

"This is the room you will be sharing with Paul," Sam informed me. I could only assume that Paul was the boy I'd seen, and was now my new, hyper-active roommate. Great. "The bathroom's down the hall on the left. The room on the right is my room." He sighed, allowing me more time to look about the room. "Well, I'll leave to let you settle in. The suitcase on the bed is yours." And then he disappeared into the den.

I slowly made my way into the room and over to the small bed. Opening the suitcase, I saw that they were indeed mine. I pulled out my small mirror and looked at myself. My missmatched eyes looked tired, and my light red hair looked grey. I needed sleep, so I closed the suitcase and pushed it under the bed. I had the feeling that this wasn't my permanant residence, so there was no need to unpack. I pulled back the covers before getting into the bed. My eyes had been yearning to close ever since Paul woke me. So, I sank into the unfamiliar bed and closed my eyes.

Behind my lids, I tried to gather my thoughts. My parents were dead, I was apparently there when they died, but I didn't remember, and now I had to live with these strange people. And those weren't the end of my problems... I felt different. Physically, I was spent. My joints were in utter pain, and I felt hideously ill.

"You'll get use to it," a voice called from the doorway. Paul? I opened my eyes and began searching the room for him. There he stood, leaning against the door frame. "You look like you need sleep." Wow, he could get that from just looking at me? He must be a rocket scientist or something. I layed my head back down on the pillow. "Name's Paul," he continued, ignoring the fact that I was barely awake. "And you're Mark." I wished I could change my name. With the amount of time people said it in one day, it was already overused and should be banned. "Right?" he asked. I closed my eyes in response. "You gonna talk?!" He was getting angry. Amusing. "Fine, just sleep. You need in anyway." And then he left. Interesting guy, he had a temper that I could mess with.

I pulled the covers over myself as I nuzzled into the pillow. Little did I know that this would be just a continuation of the worst night of my life.