My dad loved my mom very much. He always said that he was madly in love with her. High school sweethearts; he was the punk kid and she was the outsider. They met after school one day, after my mom was involved in a fist fight. My dad didn't try to stop it, but he did admire her attitude. They talked, then they dated and then, according to my dad, they got…'busy' one night and that's how I showed up! My mom hated that she had to slow down her life for a kid, but my dad tells me that she loved me and that made up for it.

He never had a bad thing to say about her, except her cooking. But he even praised that. He loved everything about her, from her love of adventure to her stubbornness and determination. I've never heard him say anything bad about my mom.

We looked at pictures of her a lot when I was younger. He would sit in the big chair in the living room/kitchen and I would sit in his lap.

He would say things like "That's your mom…right there…" and, "She loved to rock climb and do all sorts of things…" He would then pinch my cheek and say that I had her spirit and smile.

One of my favorite pictures of her is with her standing by a big rock, ready to climb. She's smiling, as usual, and giving the camera a 'peace' sign. She looked so happy. She was always happy about something.

My dad said that she was one of those women that didn't take no for an answer, always looking for the next adventure. She said she wanted to go sky diving one summer but that's when she got really sick. The doctors told her to stop her adventures for the sake of her health. I was 4 at the time, so I didn't know how severe cancer is.

My dad said she didn't take no for an answer, so it was natural for her to be angry about being told to stay indoors all hours of the day. But she still kept her hopes up that one day her health would improve and she would go sky diving again. She always used to stare out the window, admiring the clouds, wishing she could soar through them. I think that's what I got from her. Her determination and her 'never wanting to give up' attitude, even if it looked bad or grim. I think I also got her determination to fly one day.

I miss my mom. One memory I have of her is when my dad, my mom and I were in a small, white room. It was a cold day and I was all buddled up for the weather. My father was trying to keep a brave face on and my mom was in the white bed, smiling over at us. She looked really weak, but still happy. I was holding my dad's hand, really tight, feeling like I was about to cry. My dad kept telling her that he loved her and that I was the best son anyone could ask for. I didn't understand why he was talking like that then.

She told me something that day that I still remember.

I was sat next to her on the hospital bed by my dad. I wasn't sure what was going on, so I continued to look up at my dad, wanting him to pick me back up. My mom took my small, cold hands into hers and I looked over at her. She was smiling sadly at me, on the verge of tears.

I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but I listened nonetheless.

But one thing she told me is something I try to tell myself everyday.

She was looking deep into my eyes, like she was trying to talk to my soul and not to me.

She said, with a stern look on her face, still smiling at me 'You are strong. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't let anyone tell you how you should live. And don't let anyone tell you are something you know you are not. And be a good boy for daddy…'

I didn't know what she meant then, but I still keep that memory in my heart. But, it started to get difficult to remember once Vriska came around.

I met her when I was six years old, and my dad and I were admiring the birds in the sky. It was a really bright day and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was an anniversary, but my dad didn't tell me what it was for then. I know what the anniversary is now, but we never say it. It's one of those things that families just…know.

We went to the same park every year, around the same time, and we still do. We haven't missed a year yet. Even when I got a new sister and a new mom.

Vriska still has the black hair she had back then, much longer and wavier now, like her mom's. She has always been really pale and had a smirk on her face. I've only ever seen her frown once.

When I first met her, she was staring up at me, scowling, gripping her mom's hand tight as our parents talked about nothing. I'm not sure what they talked about because I was too busy trying to not look at Vriska. But I found myself looking back at her every few seconds to see if she was still staring at me behind her thick rimmed glasses. She wasn't mean or anything, but she continued to stare at me in envy or anger until my dad put me back down on the ground. Vriska was shorter than me, by about an inch or two, and a year older than me. (She got held back in kindergarten, so she was in my grade at the time). She still always seemed to be looking up at me though until I got my wheelchair. But, more on that later.

Her mom was really nice, not like my birth mom at all though. I really admired her hair then; really long and wavy, a nice contrast to her pale skin. She had a slight smirk on her face, that my dad seemed to fancy. I didn't understand what she was talking about then. Now I do and I feel like my dad…well, she was fishing and my dad took the hook without thinking, to say it bluntly. I still think that he only ever married her for her money and her body. But, 12 years later, they're still married and living in the same house.

But anyway, when Vriska and her mom moved in a year and a half after we first met them, after a really weird wedding. It was easier on my dad and me because Vriska's mom had a high-income job as manager of some hotel. My dad and I were struggling to get by before she joined our family.

Vriska roomed down the hall from me, in the used-to-be guest room. This made it easier for her to sneak down the hall and disturb my sleeping and games whenever she pleased. . She did this a lot when she moved in, up into high school even. It was an everyday thing that eventually just became routine. Until her mom found out that she was doing more than just calling me mean names. Vriska used to get a rubber band and paper and give me what she called 'the hornet'. It hurt really badly, and she usually did it in the same spot. Every. Single. Time. She said that it was for my own good, making me tougher and giving me harder skin, but I don't get how doing stuff like that would help me out at all! She said she loved me, and then she just called me a loser right after. She has always been an odd step-sister.

I still tattled on her regardless of her reasons. But, Vriska never stopped for anything, not even when my step-mom threatened to take her things away. I think Vriska only did the things she did because she cared for me or was envious of me. She never knew her dad, and I've always known both of my parents.

I didn't hate her though – I couldn't bring myself to hate her even though she lashed out at me constantly. She was the only friend I had for a while. She helped me grow up in a way, even if it wasn't the best way. Being an only child before she came around was really tough: I really didn't know how to talk to new people and I was usually just alone, eating my dad's enchiladas in the corner of the lunch room. Vriska always said that I didn't deserve any friends other than her, but it seemed that she never had many friends either. I thought I would never have any friends, until I met Gamzee, of course.

He was taller than me, lightly tanned with a wavy, curly black mop of hair on his head. He didn't smell bad, per se, but he didn't smell particularly good either. He smelled like dirty sheets and garlic.

All he wanted was the tuna sandwich that my step-mom made me. . I told him he could have it, and I expected him to take it and leave. But no, he sat down right next to me and chowed that sandwich down, like he hadn't eaten in ages. He looked really hungry and thin, painfully thin, so I asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner that night. We've been inseparable ever since.

That night he came over was a good memory; an experience really. Vriska was absolutely disgusted by him, saying that he smelled like trash and other profane words that I won't repeat. My step-mom patted Vriska's head and said hello to Gamzee, welcoming him to our home. Vriska just grumbled and scowled through the visit.

What Gamzee said next humiliated my step-mom, made Vriska hate him even more, and make my dad only laugh, so hard that it seemed like he could barely breathe. It only made me even more fascinated by him.

Gamzee looked up at her, smiling big and proud, his hair still a mess.

He smirked and said, in the most casual way, "Hey there, hot stuff. Nice tits."

He got a good smack in the face for it, making even my head hurt. Vriska gasped loudly and shouted a curse, her getting a whack in the head as well.

That didn't stop me from being friends with him, no way. It only made me like him more. In the way that I loved his confidence and how he was never afraid to speak his mind, like how I wanted to be and how I think Vriska was trying to force me to be.

We had enchiladas that night, again. Gamzee absolutely loved enchiladas. I'm not sure if he really meant that, or if he was just trying to be nice to everyone after what he said. But he still devoured the food like he did the tuna sandwich. Vriska did unscrew the salt shaker a bit to make all of the salt pour on Gamzee's food, though. He just laughed and he still ate up every last speck of food, not leaving a salt grain behind.

He got pretty sick afterwards, though, making him puke up all that he ate into the bathroom toilet. My step-mom didn't mind. She knew it was just the salt, not her cooking. Vriska just snickered in the background.

Gamzee and I hung out almost everyday after that incident. If we didn't hang one day, we would be usually talking over the phone or texting each other. We always had something to talk about. It made it easier to get through the day.

Gamzee and I were like…peas and carrots, or, peanut butter and jelly, we were just the best of bros. It was uncommon to see one of us without the other. The only time that happened when one of us got sick and had to stay home from school. It was more often than not that Gamzee would stay home, leaving me alone at school. I didn't mind though. I knew that Gamzee would be okay.

No matter what I would say or do, Vriska never seemed to like Gamzee. I'm still not sure why, but she always kept her guard up when he was around, always ready to fight with him. I've never seen them actually fight physically though, not even that much verbally. They kept their distances most of the time, but were always aware that the other was there.

The next two years in middle school were great. I didn't get my first kiss or anything like that, but I did almost win a talent show.

Gamzee and I were starting to have rap battles when we hung out after school and he really wanted to do a rap-off for the school talent show. I was worried that I would mess up horribly, but Gamzee convinced me not to worry, and we went through with the rap-off.

We got a lot of 'boos' and 'get of the stage' but also quite a bit of cheering. We still finished up the rap battle with pride, not really caring what the audience thought. It was just for fun, right?

Gamzee said he didn't care that we got 'booed, he just loved to rap.

I did meet Dave for the first time that night. He said that I was a tool. I still don't quite know the connotations of that word.

When the last year of middle school finally ended, Gamzee said that he had to go on a trip during the summer. Gamzee never went on a trip of any kind, so I was confused by his sudden desire to go. He said not to worry about it and that he would still text and or call me every chance he got. And he did, which was about once or twice every two days. It was the worst summer ever.

I stayed home a lot that summer. I played video games for hours, even cleaned up my room some, but it didn't make the summer any better, pass any faster, or make Gamzee text anymore than he did. I was bored to tears some nights. Until, one night, Dave called and asked if I wanted to go see a movie. He didn't tell me what the movie was, only that I needed to hurry up.

Vriska said that I should totally go. 'Do something fun, Tavros, don't be such a loser!' she said, trying to convince me to go in all of the wrong ways. I mean, I wanted to go in the first place, but Vriska's egging somehow made me want to go that much more. I always listened to my step-sister.

His older brother came to pick me up an hour later in a pretty nice pick-up, and I admired it as it pulled into the short driveway. The inside wasn't as great though: there were food wrappers and cans all over the passenger side floor, and all of the seats in the back were covered in vinyl records and some weird colorful stuffed creatures. Dave's brother had to raise the cup holder in the center in order to make room for Dave and me. Despite this, it's a real shame that the truck got totaled.

I sat in the passenger's seat, and Dave was scrunched up between his brother and me. Dave and his older brother were probably the only other people that I looked up to. They rapped too, and Dave was one of the people that booed Gamzee and I at the talent show in middle school. I would never win a rap-off with him, but I always tried anyway. He still called me a 'tool' no matter what I did to 'improve' in his eyes.

Dave's older brother was different. He liked to rap too, but he had a love of puppets and something called 'smuppets' – probably those colorful things that were in the back of his truck, and the one that was sitting on the dashboard. I didn't bother to ask about them and tried not to stare at it too much.

They said that we all were lucky to survive. The car hit us head on. It was about the same size as Dave's brothers; both trucks were completely totaled.

The crash broke both of Dave's brother's femurs and his right arm. It broke Dave's whole right leg, hip to foot. He also fractured his left tibia and hurt his neck from the whiplash. They were repairable, only of stitches and casts for a few months for the both of them. I wasn't so lucky.

The impact was so bad on my knees and down, they were broken beyond repair. I also fractured my left wrist.

My dad would not shut up about trying to save my legs to the doctors. I didn't really see him complaining because my vision was blurred, but I could hear in his voice that he was pretty shaken up. I couldn't feel my legs, so I didn't really mind that I was going to lose them. I also heard my step-mom crying. I'm not sure where Vriska was.

Everyone was scrambling to see if I was okay, trying to save me and telling me that it was going to be okay. I didn't think it was that bad; until the doctors talked of surgery.

The surgery was really early, or really late, depending on how you want to look at it. It was really weird, waking up the next day, not sure of what time it was, and not being able to see you try and wiggle your toes.

It's really weird. Because, even though I didn't have my lower legs and feet, I still felt them. Like, it really felt like they were there, but I knew that they weren't. The doctors said that it was because the nerves are still firing for my lower legs and toes. They also itched sometimes too, which was really, really weird. The doctors said that's normal, so I didn't think much of it.

I losing my legs didn't change my outlook on life. If anything, it made me more hopeful that better things were to come. It made me…me I guess, losing my legs and all, made me want to try to be more independent.

I told my parents that I didn't want to get prosthetic legs and that I was fine with my wheelchair. They didn't buy it at first, but I still have my wheelchair to this day. In the end, I really did want prosthetic legs, but they were so expensive that I didn't want my parents to worry about it. I would get them one day, when I had the money to.

I wasn't sure how I was going to tell Gamzee. He hated to see me hurt, and he had to see me in a wheelchair after being gone all summer. That's a great way to start high school, huh? I didn't text him or call him because I didn't want to bother him. By this time, Gamzee had only called me once or twice since the accident, and texted once or twice a week just to say 'hi'. And school was starting in less than 3 weeks. I was worried about what I would say to him, but I knew that he would still be my best bro no matter what, that Gamzee wouldn't stop being friends with me because of a car wreck. I felt that he really cared for me, and that he would never care what other people thought of me.

When high school started up, I was really nervous because I was now the 'guy in the wheelchair' according to Vriska. I was only worried about what they would think. I was mostly excited to see Gamzee again after and entire summer break of not seeing him, so I didn't care what they thought.

Gamzee was waiting in the car loop, as if he knew that I would be there. I didn't care, I was about to see my best bro after a long and… eventful summer. I wasn't too worried about what he was going to say about my legs, I knew he was definitely not one to judge. I hoped he wouldn't ask what happened.

I remember that Vriska flew out of the car, wanting to get as far away as possible from us. I also remember Gamzee was…well, I'm not sure how to describe it. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't mad either. He and Vriska still didn't like each other.

But his whole mood visibly changed when he saw my dad get the wheelchair from the trunk. I was too busy trying to get Gamzee's attention by opening the door and calling out to him to notice that he was confused as anything.

It took him a second or two to add everything up; the wheelchair, the loss of limbs, Vriska running off, me still being ecstatic to see him, my dad still indifferent about the whole situation. He stared at me for a few seconds, awestruck and happy to see me again. I wasn't sure what he was thinking at the time, or what to say. So I just sat there, waiting.

'What happened…?' he breathed out.

I looked down at my lap, frowning a bit. I looked back up at him, smiling again. 'How was the…the trip, Gamzee?' I asked, trying to change the subject.

He didn't say much other than that he wished he hadn't gone.

I remember that he pushed me around school the first day. I think he only did that because he felt bad for being gone all summer. I hope he didn't feel responsible for what happened.

He did continue to wheel me around school when I was really tired throughout the years. Kids would make fun of us, but Gamzee and I usually ignored them with the least amount of effort, continuing our rapping and card games. We continued to hang out everyday, no matter what, even if it was just at school, we always talked at least once a day. It was like that for 3 ½ years.

We did everything together. Some days, he would pull up in his hand-me-down car to take me off to school. He only did that on Fridays when we were going to hang that night; we only hung out on Fridays about once a month, though. Gamzee was too busy working everyday at the bakery to save up for a pair of prosthetic legs.

I kept telling and telling him that he should not save the money for me that I didn't need new legs and, even if I did, I would save my own money for them. But he wouldn't budge. I really felt that he blamed himself for the whole thing, but it wasn't his fault the truck hit us. I told him that he should save it up for college, to buy food and other necessities. But, no matter what I said, he would still give me ¾'s of his paycheck to put into my savings once a week. I was close to $300 now.

My family was grateful for him and treated him to dinner a lot. No one in my family seemed to mind that he was around; it would be unusual if he wasn't. No one bothered to ask about his family life because he never liked to talk about it. No one, except Vriska, saw him as a bad influence on me because I always spoke high of him. He was like an adoptive son to my parents. That is, until Vriska found him behind the school one day, doing things he shouldn't.

He told everyone, even the school, that it was a one time thing. That he had a really bad first experience and never wanted to touch the stuff again. My parents didn't believe him, of course, and I still don't understand why. Vriska was really on his case, asking him the most questions. It was Vriska's idea to never let me talk to him again. I don't think my parents would have forgiven him. But, something Vriska said made them change their minds. Something she did made my parents never want me to talk to him again.

'Once on drugs, always on drugs' and 'He's a bad influence on Tavros and he always will be!' And, to top it all off, 'If Tavros keeps talking to Gamzee, he might start doing drugs too!'

My parents took about 1 or 2 hours to finally come to the verdict that I wasn't allowed to hang out with Gamzee after school anymore. That I had to come straight home after school, with Vriska as the driver. Worst. Decision. Ever.

Worst. Semester. Ever.

Worst….everything.

We would still talk, Gamzee and I, but only when Vriska wasn't around or when she was sick. My parents would take me to school those days. We would skip class too, just to hang out and talk. But that ended quickly. My dad was more lenient about Gamzee. He liked Gamzee, mainly because he liked him better than he liked Vriska. Which sounds bad, but it really wasn't. He knew how Vriska was, he knew that she was over-protective, but kept his mouth shut for the sake of my step-mom and the stability of our family. He did this to please everyone. He loved my step-mom, don't get me wrong. But I think he didn't end the marriage yet because he didn't want me to have lost two moms in my life.

By this time, I didn't care what they thought. I just missed Gamzee. It was so weird not being able to see him after school and talking to him over the phone (I still did some nights, but shhhhh…). We did have one class together though, every other day. But the teacher was so strict that we never had a chance to talk. It was a math class, and if we weren't taking notes, he would give us a long ass speech about math and education and blah, blah, blah. No one liked it and we always blamed the person who caused it. Gamzee and I would pass a note or two, when he wasn't looking, asking how the other was doing. We got a write-up for it once. We also always got in a group together when the teacher wanted us to work out a few math problems. Gamzee didn't understand the math, so it was usually just me talking and trying to explain it to him. It was funny, how he didn't understand math. He always gave me exactly ¾'s of his paycheck, yet, not good in math. But, it only meant that I could hang with him more, and that is that.

At the end of the school year, I was still the Latino crippled kid and Gamzee was still the Italian…well, not pot-head, but he was definitely out there, and he quit the drugs anyway, so...

The summer was just great. Gamzee and I still didn't talk that much at the beginning, but we still talked when we could, hanging out when we could. Until my step-mom eventually gave up and forgave him. Vriska was still mad at him, but she couldn't say much other than how much of a bad influence he still was on me and how much she absolutely despised him. My parents got tired of it after a while.

We had enchiladas when he came back that night for dinner. No salt was needed.

Gamzee and I were still peas and carrots, peanut butter and jelly, the best bros ever. When summer ended, went off to the same college together. I'm not sure how he got in; maybe he was using that ¼ of his paycheck to save up? He did work for 4 years, everyday, 4-10… I'm not sure how he did it, maybe scholarships too, but he did! He has a dorm right down the hall from me.

We only have one class together, but we have three of the same classes, just different times. So I'm thinking that we will probably study a lot together. The only down side of having only one class with him is that I have to wheel myself around. I'm not saying that I can't or that I don't want to do that or anything. I just don't know the campus that well yet. Yes, the teachers know I'm disabled and they know I might be late. I just don't want it to become a regular thing. I'm sure I'll find a classmate or two to help me around.

All I know is that I can't wait to start living life on my own. I don't have to deal with my parents everyday, but they will visit me every chance they get. They are still together, but I feel like they might break it off soon. Vriska is off at another college, but she said that she will text me or call me every chance she gets. I hope it's not every single day. Not that I would mind, or anything, it would just become a kind of uncomfortable routine, I guess.

I have my favorite picture of my mom, the one with her about to rock climb, on my desk, along with a picture of her and my dad together. I have a dorm to myself because of my wheelchair, but I plan to have Gamzee over a lot because he is my best bro. I can't wait to have him over for rap-battles and movie night and just over for the fun of it. We plan to study some as well, but studying isn't first priority, of course.

Gamzee, on the other hand, has a roommate. Not sure who it is yet, but apparently he is really good with computers and making computer programs. I really hope he doesn't hack my computer or anything. If anything, I hope that he fixes my computer if it crashes or has a bug.

If anything, I'm just glad that I'm more independent now. I don't have to worry about my parents or Vriska or anything that I don't want to worry about. I can just hang out with Gamzee and sleep all day and study when I feel like it.

This is going to be a great four years….