I was alive, worse luck. It must have been a dream. I look at the face peering down at me and I start to remember. I'm in the shelter, so this must be...a volunteer. She looks concerned."I'm okay, really. Thanks for asking," I reply with no real enthusiasm."Do you want to talk about it?" she asks."About what?" I reply."About the dream?" she replied."You're not really interested," I said."Have it your way, but I'm not being nice. I want to know why you cried out." I didn't cry out, did I?" Let's. He always took two showers a day so he wasn't too sweaty.After all a boy had to make sure he glistened from his own beauty; notsweat. No one enjoyed a sweaty boy. He slowly got dressed, looking intothe mirror. A little extra make-up under the eyes to cover up thosecircles. He didn't want to look haggard or anything like that."Robert?" he heard a voice behind him as he went through the kitchen toget outside. His skirt twirled as he turned around to face his mother,his mouth in a disapproving. More

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