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I walked into what I thought was an empty house. It wasn't. There were moans and screams coming from a bedroom upstairs. I looked at the stairs and stared at them for a minute. I asked myself if I really wanted to know what was going on upstairs. Then I heard a name. I name that made my heart jump into my throat and then plummet back down into my lower stomach. Casey. There it was again. I wondered whom it was saying, but I'm assuming it was the other person, judging by the moans. I started toward the stairs but stopped when it was quiet. There were footsteps on the floor and I turned away from the stairs. They would be downstairs in a few minutes. Casey. I've never heard it used in that tone before. It was eerie. I made my way to the kitchen and looked around. I haven't been here in years, it looked as if nobody had been here in years. The paint was chipping and the ceiling was cracked badly. It was amazing anybody still lived here. Casey. The silence was nice, but was cut short by a ringing. I glared at the phone before picking it up.

"Hello?" The person on the other end asked when I refused to say hello first. I looked at the stairs and cracked my neck softly. "Hello?" The person repeated. A woman, with great patience, something I've never really had.

"Yes?" I questioned sternly. "What do you want?"

"Letty?" She asked. I nodded although she couldn't see. "Wow, I never thought I'd talk to you again. What… what are you doing there?"

"I'm just here." I said. My voice was deeper and more unfriendly than it had ever been before. It should have been, considering certain facts. I've spent some time in prison, but that's not that big of a deal. Right?

"Well, where's..." I cut her off by clearing my throat and speaking.

"I should get off of the phone. I have some quick business to take care of here." She let out a soft sigh and I felt anger rising in my stomach.

"I haven't seen you in seventeen years. How have you been?" I chuckled to myself silently and shook my head. My eyes wandered around the kitchen for a good lie to fix up. I couldn't find one. How did she not know, it was all over the news.

"I've been around." I lied.

"Where?"

"Why do I think you don't care?" I asked her. She sighed, but trying to make it so I couldn't hear, I did. "Seventeen years, no phone calls, letters, no nothing." I didn't raise my voice once and I didn't plan to unless she interrupted me. But then if I were interrupted I probably wouldn't anyway, just to keep myself calm. "You don't care. Nobody cares. I took the heat; I know you, love me for it. I just don't see why I was cut off from you guys. Did I develop some sort of disease I was unaware of?" For some reason I sounded very educated when I talked. I wasn't. I dropped out of high school my second year as a sophomore. I decided it wasn't the route for me.

"Letty, we're…" I cut her off again.

"I know, Letty, we're very sorry." I took a deep breath. "God, Mia, why the fuck are you calling here? How did you ever get this number? Wait, you probably looked it up in the phonebook. It's amazing what you can find in the phonebook, like the number for the prison I was in." I stopped myself again before I said something I would regret.

"You were in prison?" She asked at the end of a breath, quietly. I heard voices in the background and she shushed them loudly. They were probably looking at her with questioning faces, like I knew they would.

"It was all over the news, you knew."

"No, I didn't. If I knew I would have come visited you."

"Who is that?" One of the background voices asked. Mia's muffled voice blurted out my name. There were gasps in the room because I could hear them clearly. "Let me talk to her." I pleaded in my mind for Mia not to hand over the phone, for her to continue to talk to me. I figured in my mind that if she handed the phone over I would simply hang up the phone. No, they had the number; they'd just call back. Damn. I wouldn't pick up. Then I remembered the other people in the house. No. Fuck. "Hello? Letty?" I sighed. That bitch handed over the phone. I didn't know what to say. What was there to say anyway? We hadn't talked in seventeen years. "Are you there?"

"Yes." I replied dully. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "What do you want?" I spoke slowly, so I wouldn't have to repeat what I said.

"You. Where are you?"

"I'm somewhere. You can't have me. You haven't talked to me in seventeen years, sorry but you've lost me. You lost me after I had spent a whole month in prison. You were right, it was hell. I made friends, I got into fights, and believe it or not but I liked the food. It was better than the shit I got in the hospital, shit. You've made food better than what they served me when I was in the hospital."

"You were in the hospital?" He questioned.

"Remember the car crash or has that been erased from your memory?" I questioned. I crossed my arms over my chest and wedged the phone between my ear and my shoulder. It wasn't very comfortable but my hand was sweaty from holding it. I dropped my arms and wiped my hands on my jeans.

"No, I remember. I just didn't know you went to the hospital. I told you to go straight to Baja." I chuckled and shook my head.

"Yeah, Dom, that's where they got me. If I hadn't have gone to the hospital, I wouldn't have known things. I broke three ribs and my right forearm. It's really hard to drive when your arm is broken."

"I'm sorry that this shit happened to you, I truly am. I'm betting the answer is no but I'm going to ask anyway."

"What?" I snapped.

"Is there anyway you could ever forgive any of us for any of the shit that happened." He was sincere and his voice cracking. I thought about the question. How could I forgive them? They left me just when I needed them most. I had to stay in the hospital for a long time, almost four months for my ribs to heal. As soon as I was cleared, I was handcuffed and taken to a county prison. I stayed there for a long time, sixteen years to be exact. It's a very long time when you're so young and you've got things to do. I was twenty when I went in and now I'm thirty-six. I felt old because so many years of my life were wasted. Things happened… things that can't happen again. Babies were born and people died, but they wouldn't be born or they wouldn't die again.

"I think I could forgive Mia. There is not a snowballs chance in hell that I would ever forgive you. There's just no way."

"Ever?" He questioned.

"Maybe. But if I ever do, this will NEVER be forgotten. I spent sixteen years in that hellhole, wishing you'd come rescue me one day. I died when I realized you were never coming for me. I thought I loved you, that's what made me realize that I didn't. That you were just my fuck buddy and that was it. You didn't love me."

"Let, we had to go to Mexico. We had to leave."

"Yeah, I know. And I took the fault for the team. I get it. I see how important I was to the team now this happened."

"If I could change the way things happened I would. In a heartbeat I would." I nodded a little. "Look, your probably tired of being on the phone and especially with me. If you ever decide you want to drop in, you know where we live. If you don't remember, look us up. Bye."

"Bye." I said softly. That was about as soft as my voice had ever gotten. I turned and put the phone on the receiver. I looked around the room. I spotted the bathroom door from where I was standing and walked to it. I stepped inside and looked around. I stepped in front of the mirror and was startled by the face that stared back at me. I've never really looking at myself. It wasn't exactly safe to have mirrors in a prison. One of the girls could get mad, break the mirror, and stab somebody in the throat with a piece of glass. I've seen it happen. There were two small scars on the left side of my cheek. From a razor blade, two deep cuts that almost needed stitches, and two scars to remember them by. My eyes were darker, more dull looking, when I closed my eyes slightly, it looked like I was going to kill my reflection. I looked away for a minute then back up when I noticed my hair. It was dull and crappy looking. Shorter than what it used to be, sixteen years ago. Casey. I heard the voice again. There was movement in the kitchen and I looked out the door, across the room and into the kitchen. It was a boy, drinking directly out of the milk carton. A teenager came down the stairs, dressed in practically nothing. A tank top and a very short skirt with her hair tied up at the back of her head. I sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. Neither of them saw me, luckily.

"Why are you drinking out of the carton, get a glass." The female snapped to the male. I chuckled to myself, grinning. They looked like a younger version of Dom and I. I shook my head and sighed at that memory.

"Damn, Casey." He said putting the milk carton back in the fridge. "You look… hot." He said with a large grin. She smiled and pulled on his collar for a kiss. "Mmm, you taste good too." She took his hand and led him into the living room. I jumped back into the bathroom so I wasn't seen. She grabbed her purse and they both walked to the door.

"We should leave, got a party to go to." He nodded and I stepped out of the bathroom. I leaned against the frame of the door with my arms crossed. The door opened and they both stepped out. The girl turned to close the door and her eyes caught mine. She pushed the door open gently and stepped inside. She cocked her head to the side and I waved from where I was. The wave was just to prove that I was really standing there.

"Casey, come on." The guy said to her quietly. Her eyes didn't leave me though. I could tell her breathing had quickened and I stood up straight and started toward here.

"Mom?" She questioned, almost crying.

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