They both broke down, unable to face that their son had died, and another person was talking through his body.But as I started to walk away, clueless on what to do next, his mom stopped me.
"You may not be my son," she said, still crying, "but at least take a bath before leaving. If nothing, for my sake."
His father, who at first was stern and understanding, had already broke down by now, and while crying, he pointed to the bath.Although I didn't expect it, I was thankful for it. After all, where else would I be able to wash this blood and vomit off my body? I made a note to pay them back for this kindness later.
As I left the bathroom, disappointed in myself for expecting a shower and hot water, something I am not sure I'll ever see again. They called me this time, and said something I'll never forget, and will always remain in their debt for.
Arthur's mother called me, her cheeks still tired from crying."Me and Alan have decided, even if you are not the son we raised, you are still too young to go out alone. If you will accept us, we would like to take you in as our child."She went on, "We may not be the best parents, and we might not be able to replace you, but I hope you will."
I interrupted her, and hugged them both.
"Yes, it would be my honor to be your son."
We all stayed there, hugging each other and crying, for what felt like an eternity, till Erin joined in, asking why we are crying.
We all replied together, "Nothing. Erin, nothing."