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As I approached the familiar beige building with its black heavy door and roof, it felt like I had never left. Everything looked exactly the same as when I had left it, like I had been here just yesterday. The memories flooded back, the feelings was to familiar.

There was no gate to the property, just my mother's neglected rose garden, the once vibrant rosy colors now withered and forgotten.

As I got closer, I could hear the sound of chatter and laughter drifting from inside. It seemed they were all there, both my father and his woman, along with their children, both the one birthed out of wedlock and the complete biological. Happy family, I supposed, this was one of those feelings that made me feel not-strangely disconnected from them, like I was an outsider looking in.

I've felt that way for years, both before and after my mother's death, it was a familiar sensation. Something I didn't want.

One of the kitchen windows was facing me, so it wasn't surprising when I saw a figure from