I could run like no one's business, I'd never thought it would take me anywhere, especially places that I've been in my life. Jenny's gone. She's been gone for about 10 years now. Well, life went on, as everyone told me it would. My mama's gone, too. She's been gone longer than my Jenny's been. I've been through so much hell in my life, first with Bubba, then mama, then my Jenny. People always say "That Forrest Gump. He's gone through so much. If I was him, I'd probably run away from it all, y'know, leave it all behind…" Or something along those lines. I don't pay much attention to those people, they's trouble. But I haven't run away from that. There's too much to run away from. Little Forrest's all grown up, he's what I'm livin' for. He's about fifteen now, a typical teenage boy. He ain't got no girl under his belt, hasn't had one yet, and by that I mean a girlfriend. Never thought that I would never see a boy his age without one, but he does have this one best friend, slightly younger than him, same age though. Her name's Anna, long dark brown hair, blazing green eyes, the exact opposite of what Jenny was. I see 'em walkin' down Main Street, arm in arm, laughin' all the way. They's remind me of Jenny and I. I read the letter that he wrote to Jenny when he was five and it got me all chok'ed up. It said he missed her, the whole quote-n-quote nine yards. But then he said 'I'm a bit worried about Papa, he cries whenever he reads me Curious George and whenever I mention how much I wanna to learn 'bout Woodstock, he yells at me 'bout how much Woodstock kills, he says I'm too young to understand 'bout those kinda things but he doesn't know I'm above average in my class.' That's stuck with me through all of those 9-or 10- years he wrote the letter. I've kept it. I'd never thought my son could write letters like that even when he was five, considerin' what I was doin' when I was that. It's actually in my cadet uniform jacket pocket. I got it all fixed up and put in a special glass case. I've put pictures all over it, mostly of Jenny and me, Bubba, Dan, and obviously Little Forrest. Each year I sit at that bus stop on the anniversary of Jenny's death, waiting for hours on end, talking to the people who wait for the bus. I keep a large heart box next to me and each day I say "My name is Forrest, Forrest Gump. Would you like a chocolate?", take off the lid, and offer it to the man, woman, or couple sitting on the wooden bench and most of the time they would respond with a cheery thank you and eat the chocolate. Sometimes they would scowl mainly because they wouldn't like the flavor they had gotten. I don't mind it though, I don't care which flavor I get, chocolate is chocolate, it was Jenny's favorite. My mama always used to say "Life was like a box of chocolates, y'never know what you're gonna get." I agree with that completely. You never know what you're going to get when it comes to life, it's usually something that's goin' to change you. I've felt as though everythin's gone crazy 'round here. There's been murder 'round here. Especially in Anna's neighborhood. I hear Little Forrest talkin' 'bout it every night at dinner (most of the time shrimp scampi, Little Forrest and I love it) and after that we play a game of ping pong. He's pretty good at it too, better than me even, I wish Jenny could see him. He's the best. Anna's prob'ably gonna come live with us if things don't improve. I mean, her neigh-boor was shot dead by those damn terrorists. I swear, this country's gettin' more corrupt even as I speak. First after nine-eleven, and now one of the best neigh-bor-hoods has gone sour. Yes, I guess it would be appropriate to run away from it all, but I'm an ol' man now and Little Forrest can't run well. I say he should try out for football, he refuses 'cuz Anna finds football peoples airheads. However, I don't think she knows what I did when I was in high school. I don't think that Little Forrest should go out for football, he can't run. That's why I can't run away from everything, because Little Forrest can't keep up.