Mikey returns to his old house.
He lumbered over to the basketball area and sat down on the warm tar.
The sun was wind milling heat out on Belleville today and Mikey sighed in content at the change in weather.
The humidity made an impression on Mikey’s now slightly sticky skin.
So this is all a dream
I should be able to bring Gerard into my dream, shouldn’t I?
It is a dream anyway.
I think I’ll do that.
Mikey willed with all his might that Gerard would appear, but no such luck.
Maybe I made him but he’s at our house, maybe our house isn’t actually burnt down in this dream. I bet he’s there.
An unseen force lured him to what used to be his house, it was still home to him after three years, despite the now cleared away debris.
No one ever rebuilt it, just left what remained of it in peace.
Mikey would sometimes visit there just to reminisce, all his memories splashed right before his eyes, things he yearned for, times were peaceful then.
“Everything happens for a reason, one day you’ll understand this.”
His father had told him when he had found out about Mikey getting beaten up.
He never wanted to believe that his family had to die for a reason, but his mother, father and brother seemed to connect to that in a way he desperately wanted to be a part of as he spoke those words with a hidden meaning.
Through Mikey’s contemplation he didn’t realise he had made it all the way to Salter Place already.
It’s lucky that he managed to get into a new home relatively close to here, in the same town anyway.
Mikey knew somewhere embedded deeply inside him that he was in fact reality he was in but he ignored that as he strode up the familiar street filled with high hopes and nostalgia.
His heart was thudding erratically at the idea of seeing Gerard at their home in such a realistic dream.
What used to be his safe haven came into view and he halted in his tracks abruptly.
No no no! I want it to be fixed! This isn’t fair it’s meant to be my dream!
For the first time this week, being a Monday, liquid salt trailed down Mikey’s sweat slicked cheeks and crashed to the ground.
69 Salter Place was still an almost flat blackened area of land tarnishing the almost impeccable sight of other houses.
For some reason it hurt so much more, almost as much as the first time his eyes fell upon it.