• I start my story not at the begining, but in the middle. I'm sure you have no interest in the

    sad, sorry, excuse for a childhood I had. Well, maybe you do, but I certainly do not. When you

    become old, you learn to forget, and bury those things deep inside, untouchable by anyone,

    not even yourself. It becomes easier that way. You see, I do not trust a soul with any part of

    my heart or mind because it is precious. As precious as even the largest and prettiest

    diamonds gods green earth could ever cough up to man. Now, my dear reader, before I start

    boring you further with this rant I will continue on. Where should I start?

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    "Home sweet home." Stated Jackie as we entered a town I had never seen before, but I

    knew it was where I would be staying for two weeks of my summer. A nice quiet town, was

    my first impression. Jackie began to explain various things such as where things were and

    how things worked around town, but I was only interested in the fresh freedom I sensed I

    would be given. It was in my heart, where it replaced the lump of depression and pain that

    was a constant companion to me back in Iowa. I felt a rush of excitement, like any teenager

    would, in the face of this aspect. Then, driving by a bubbling fountain, did I see him.

    The first thing I saw was his back, hunched over with what I saw was a guitar. This peaked

    my interest, but I soon forgot him, as my uncle pointed out a store that grabbed my interest

    as soon as it was taken. Karin, a transfer student from Switzerland that was staying with my

    uncle and his wife for the summer, saw my interested look and gave me a sly smile.

    "So, tell us about how it's going back in Iowa, how is everybody? Do you have a boyfriend

    back home?" my aunt asked from the front seat. I was startled by this question. She knew

    perfectly well how it was going. It was why I was here after all. How could you refuse a

    simple request from a child with parents like mine? It was a pity thing, I guessed. But if pity

    was what was getting me what I wanted, then I was sure as hell going to use it.

    "No boyfriend. Everyone is fine." I muttered looking out the window of the car. She took my

    tone in stride and contiuned on talking about things to do and places she wanted me to see

    asking me a question every so often. She was cut short, though, when we pulled into the

    drive. It was well into the night when I decided to go out and venture. It didn't take me long

    to unpack seeing as I didn't have much to begin with. Tip-toeing past the quiet rooms and

    sleeping people I took the bike and rode into the night taking in the night sounds and crisp

    air. It was inevitable that I eventually come to the "hole" where the huge mining crater

    stretched as far as the eye could see. Being as dark as it was though I really couldn't see

    anything but a figure sitting on a bench in front of the fence that overlooked the mine. The

    first thing that came to mind was "rapist" and then "molester" but I wasn't about to just turn

    back and go back. Mainly because my legs were killing me from biking all over the place for

    the last hour. I put my bike on the kick-stand and walked up to the bench and sat down.

    The figure never moved, he simply sat there and continued looking out at the night. I also

    said nothing, and together we sat, with the warm summer air still, the cicadas singing

    their night song, and the beautiful stars shining as brightly as I ever saw them.