I felt that I had to get the feelings out and do this in a first person internal narrative. It was one of those things that I felt that it had to be t... get the emotions of the story across. I feel this was a good effort and exercise for me. Lately, I had been writing too much depression into my stories and I felt that it would be better to put a bit more positive into one. Thank you for reading this.-------------------------------------------------------It was an old clich? night as in an old. As she gets closer though she realizes he looks even better the closer she gets. He isn’t terrible tall, but he is gorgeous. His hair is ruffled black with a sheen of violet, he’s thin under his tight, black clothes and he has all matter of piercings over his face. His lips are small, but pouty and he has a small, slightly crooked nose. The hue of his skin could rival the surface of the silvery moon outside.“Hey’a.” Angela says once he’s within earshot of her. At first he hesitates, then. ."Yes daddy" I reply trying to sound as miserable as possible, but to no avail. He continues..."Honey your mother won't be back for a few days from her business trip and unfortunately an old school friend of mine passed. And I know you are almost s*******n, but your mother and I feel it best that you come with me for the calling hours and funeral." No biggie I think to myself... Perhaps a bit prematurely... As I think this he continues..."The funeral is in Nevada three days from now"... What. "Hi, sweetie," a voice responds that wasn't my mom's."Who is this?" I ask confused."It's your mother," the voice responds.The woman's voice sounds familiar, but it is definitely not my mother.I look at the screen once again and notice the picture of the woman.The woman in the picture is Mrs. Thompson."Oh, sorry mom," I say, "I guess I'm still a little tired." That's OK, baby," she replies, "Your father and I were wondering if wecould stop by today. We want to visit that cute little.