Ray hated his life. It was completely and utterly depressing! He was constantly haunted by his memories, and whenever he even tried to talk about them, people would make fun of him. No one cared about poor little delusional Cornelius Ray Thibodeaux… No one…

And to make matters worse, the one person that even made some attempt to listen was probably going to die. Why? Why do bad things always happen to good people? His mother didn’t deserve to get pancreatic cancer. That was the worst kind… It spread quickly and usually wasn’t found until it was in the advanced stages. He hated to see his mother in pain. He hated to see his mother pull out clumps of hair every day from the chemo. He hated to think about what would happen if it spread to her colon, or her stomach, or her liver. He hated to see her have surgery after surgery. He hated that it wasn’t getting better. He hated it all!

He hated his life, and he was going to end it. Ray walked into the small bathroom, locking the door behind him. He opened the medicine cabinet and took down the bottle of Tylenol. He took off the cap and stared down at the pills. These pills had the power to take it all away… to end his suffering. They were magic happy pills. Just as he was about to empty the bottle into his hand, he heard someone just outside the door.

“Hey, Mom, have you seen Ray? I can’t find him.”

“No, I haven’t sweetie. Go check his room. He might be in there. Oh, and Jo, I’m going out for a little while, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ray was frozen with fear. Jo was looking for him? Why? He silently listened as she ran down the hallway. She didn’t pass up the bathroom and go to his room. She stopped right in front of the door and started jiggling the handle and knocking on the door.

“Is someone in there? I really need to go!”

Ray backed up against the wall, too afraid to say anything. Hopefully she would go away. Ray listened, his heart pounding a thousand times a minute, as she jumped to reach the key on top of the door. His heart stopped as she popped the lock and opened the door.

They stood there and stared at each other. He saw her eyes flick from the Tylenol bottle to his face. No! This wasn’t happeneing!

“…Ray… What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her.

“Ray… What are you doing?” she reiterated, and started to tear up.

When Ray didn’t answer again, Jo lunged forward and started to wrestle the open bottle from his hands. Pills flew everywhere. Ray and Jo both started crying hysterically. Ray tried to scoop the pills, his last hope, up off of the ground, but Jo stepped on his hands. Ray pulled them back immediately, and started screaming at Jo.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Ray! What would you accomplish by killing yourself?”

“Why would you care?”

“Because you’re my brother and I love you! Do you have any idea how much I would miss you if you died Ray? I would miss you a lot!”

Ray stopped and stared at Jo, tears streaming down his face. “Do… do you really mean that?” he said, sinking down to the ground.

Jo sat down next to him, and nodded, crying hysterically. Ray hugged Jo and the two cried on each other’s shoulders. Finally… After so many years of sadness, Ray felt genuinely happy.

They had seen it on the news. The entire city was under water. There were people sitting on their rooftops praying to be saved by the coast guard. The Superdome was filled with people who couldn't get out. The interstate was barren. But now... Now it was even worse, because now, there was nothing.

The sights the Thibodeaux boys saw as they drove into the city would forever be burned in their memories. The city of New Orleans had been placed under martial law, and the National Guard patrolled every street corner. Practically every plant they saw had been killed by the water that drowned it as it flowed from the broken levees. On every house was a large spray painted X. On the top of the X was the date the house was searched; on the left, the squad number that searched it; on the right, notations for hazards such as gas leaks or dead animals; and on the bottom, the number of dead bodies found. But those were only on the houses that flooded. All the others had signs nailed to the walls that read, "You loot, I shoot." Businesses had broken windows from looters, but of course, the owners weren't there to notice.

This city... the city they had loved so much, was now in tattered, heart shattering ruins.

Finally, after being IDed by the National Guard as they entered the lakeview neighborhood, the three boys arrived at their old home. Joey pulled into the driveway and put his mom's mini van in park. The two boys sat in the mini van and stared at the remnanats of their old home. The yellow water line extended high above the door to the house, almost reaching the second story windows, and the red X next to their door drew eyes. Joey and Timmy sat in the front of the car, their mouths agape, while Ray looked down at his feet, not even daring to cast so much as a glance at the house.

After what felt like hours of sitting and staring, Joey finally opened the door and stepped out. The air stunk of mold and rotting wood. Joey walked around to the back of the van and pulled out two boxes, one of paper masks, and one of rubber gloves. He slipped on the mask as Timmy hopped out the van and walked around to get a mask of his own.

"You coming, Ray?" Joey asked as he pulled his gloves on.

"Y-yeah," Ray replied as he forced himself to get out the van and walk around back to get a mask and pair of gloves for himself.

"Do you think we'll actually find anything in there?" Timmy asked as he stared at their old home.

"I sure hope so. I want to be able to bring something back for mom," Joey replied. The eldest of the Thibodeaux boys set out for the house, Timmy and Ray in tow behind him. Joey slid the house key in the lock and swung the door open. The three boys peered inside the house, their all ready dishartened moods falling even more at the sight of the inside of the house.

Fiber glass from behind the once existant sheet rock littered the once carpeted floor, along with dead flowers, old waterlogged photos and books, VCR tapes, stuffing from the furniture, and toppled over chests and bookcases. The big tv that was once sitting in a cabinet was now screen down on the floor and the swollen wooden cabinet was leaning against the wall in a diagonal. The coffee table was scratched, swollen, and had one of the legs completely broken off. The blades on the ceiling fan drooped so low that they could be compared to cooked noodles. If the living room was this chaotic, they would hate to see the rest of the house, but what had to be done had to be done.

So on they continued, carefully watching their step everywhere they went. The overwhelming sense of just how much of a chaotic state the house was in filled the air as the boys walked around, poking and prodding. They quickly realized that there would likely be little chance of finding anything that could be saved.

There were several rooms in the house that they couldn't even access. The refrigerator had fallen in front of the kitchen door, thus leaving the room inaccessable. Their parents'room took a bit of work to get into. Their dresser had toppled over and blocked part of the doorway. The upstairs rooms were relatively unscathed save for the bottom foot of each room. However, a tree had fallen through the roof in Jo's room. The National Guard had managed to cut away most of it though.

The trip was not entirely unsuccessful though. The boys managed to rescue several items from the second floor. By the time they left, the mini van was packed with a framed wedding picture of their parents, a pillow their grandmother made that they were hoping to wash, a mirror, a family portrait, some comics from Ray's room, a mouldy soccer trophy from Joey's first story bedroom, one of Timmy's model planes, and a few notebooks from Jo's room. In these items, Joey saw slivers of hope. They gave Timmy fond memories. But for Ray, they only depressed him. The three boys returned to Vascherie, Louisiana late that night changed. After what they saw, how could they ever be the same?

The Widow's Window

Tess - 42
Timmy - 17
Kristen - 15
Ray - 11
Kathryn - 10
Jo - 7

Dad was supposed to do a lot of things... He was supposed to be there when Joey finally got married to that really nice girl he brought home for Christmas last year: Beth. He was supposed to be there to see Timmy walk across the stage in his cap and gown to receive his high school diploma. He was supposed to finish building that tree house with Ray that he promised would get done by the end of the summer. He was supposed to read Jo her favorite bedtime story, Elmer, every night and use a really deep scraggly voice for all of the mean elephants who made fun of Elmer.

And seemingly most insignificant of all, but still very prevalent on the list of things that Dad was supposed to do was fix the squeaky door-hinge on the bedroom door that now had two blonde heads poking out from behind it. Then, just as quickly as they had appeared, they disappeared down the hall and into the living room.

"Well? What's she doing?" a tiny curly-haired blonde girl shouted as she sat up from doing somersaults on the couch.

"Shhh! Do you want her to hear us, Jo?" another, older bespectacled blonde girl whispered harshly.

"It's alright, Kristen. Calm down. She's just a little kid," Timmy replied as he scooped Jo up and sat her on his lap. "So, what is she doing anyway? Sleeping or something?"

The two blonde children who had stuck their heads in the doorway -- one was a bespectacled blonde boy with unruly hair, and the other was a girl of the same age with short wavy locks -- looked at each other with mixed expressions. "She's just.... sitting there, staring out the window at the lakefront," Kathryn finally replied with a muddled expression. She didn't know what to make of it. Uncle Joseph died. They all knew it. Heck, Ray was even there. But sitting there and staring at the lake wouldn't bring him back.

"Maybe she doesn't even know we're here. I mean, we've been pretty quiet..." Ray trailed on with a frown.

"Let me see," Timmy huffed as he set Jo back down on the couch and walked down the hall toward his mother's room. The other four immediately got up and followed Timmy down the hall and watched expectantly as he stopped outside the door and listened.

The sound of muffled sobs faintly drifted through the crack in the door and Timmy turned back to mouth to all of them, "I think Mom's crying... Maybe we sho-"

"MOMMY MOMMY!!" Jo shouted, interrupting Timmy as she ran past all four of them and straight into the bedroom toward her mother. Tess jumped in surprise as Jo came racing toward the window seat and climbed up next to her only to wrap her up in a hug. "Don't cry, Mommy! I don't want you to cry," Jo said.

Tess let out another sob and wrapped her daughter up into a tight hug only to soon find that she had four more pairs of arms wrapping themselves around her. Tess held her breath, and smiled only to start crying again as her arms grew goosebumps. Sure... Joseph Thibodeaux Sr. may have left behind things like broken promises and expectations... but he also left behind the best family anyone could have asked for.

Ray's life fit in with the weather. He had his sunny days where everything went right, but those were few and far in between. Most of the time, Ray's sky had clouds blocking out the sun. Sometimes the bright sunshine would peek through, but most of the time, everything was a flat gray. But today, at four twenty-eight P.M., Ray got a phone call and his sky turned black. The winds blew harshly and the freezing January rain pelting his back felt like needles.

The weather outside was no different. No thunder. No lightning. Just wind and rain and cold.

As Ray opened the door to the rooftop of the East Campus Apartments, the weather brought his pain to life. The ice cold rain needles punctured his face, and he let the door slam closed behind him. What a perfect night for an ending!

Slow and hesitant, Ray made his way to the edge of the roof and stared over the side at the tear soaked pavement. He could end it all right here. He could feel truly happy again, like he felt only a few short months ago. Like he did when he was still on his anti-depressants. Like he did before this shit storm started.

But before, it had only been raining. It wasn't until four twenty-eight P.M. that the wind started howling in grief. It wasn't until he had been told about how his mother had breathed her last that his breaths had also become hollow. It wasn't until he was told that he didn't have to come right away, that he should sleep at the dorm that the rain had turned to a virtual ocean threatening to drown him.

As Ray stepped onto the slick ledge, he nearly lost his balance. He instinctively threw his arms out to steady himself, and bent his knees for support. At the realization that he almost just plummeted to his death, Ray let out a distressed sigh. Images of his body splattered on the pavement flashed through his mind and left him confused. He wanted to jump. It would be so easy. But... could he actually do it?

Ray carefully stepped back down from the ledge and leaned forward against it as he looked over the side of the building. He needed to think this through for a moment.

Before he even had the chance to start thinking, Billy Joe Armstrong's voice started singing the chorus of "21 Guns" from Ray's pocket.

He let out a long sigh as he pulled out his phone and checked the caller ID. Chris Ledet? His roommate Chris Ledet? Ray wondered why he was calling, and then he remembered. He left a note. Prepared for the worst, Ray swallowed hard and answered with a blank, "Hello?"

"Ray! Thank God! Where are you?" Chris asked. He sounded worried.

Ray's mind went blank. What did he do? Did he answer? Without thinking about it, in the same flat tone, he blurted out, "On the roof..."

"The roof?? Well, shit! Okay, don't move, I'm coming up!"

He was coming up here? Why? To stop him? "No, really, Chris. It's okay... Chris?" Ray took the phone away from his ear and stared at the blinking "Call ended. Chris Ledet. 0:34" on the screen. Chris... He of all people was worried about Ray? After living with him for half a year, Ray was positive Chris hated him. After all the times Chris has complained about how annoying Ray was because he would leave the toothpaste uncapped or play his music too loud or this that and the other... And he actually cared?

Ray was so caught up in his confusion that he didn't have time to even reconsider jumping. It was already too late. Not a second later, Chris burst through the door marked "Employees Only" at the top of the stairwell. Ray's head snapped up, and he immediately noticed the crumpled note in Chris's hand.

"You alright?" Chris immediately asked, a little out of breath from running up three flights of stairs.

"No," Ray replied. It was such a simple answer for such a big jumble of a mess, but it fit.

Chris nodded and paused for a minute as he caught his breath. "You're not gonna..." Chris paused. Unable to finish his question, he nodded toward the ledge instead.

Ray looked back at the ledge and then down at his phone. As he moved he felt the dog tag on his neck shift. No, he couldn't... Not this time. Ray shook his head and responded with a flat, "No."

"Good... I don't think your mom would mind waiting a bit to see you again," Chris replied, gesturing the crumpled note in his hand.

Chris had a point... Ray bit down hard on his lips and nodded.

"Wanna go back inside?" Chris asked, stepping closer.

Ray shook his head. "No... I think I wanna stay up here just a bit longer."

"Alright, but I'm staying with ya," Chris insisted, lightly clapping Ray on the shoulder.

"You'll catch a cold," Ray said.

"As long as you're alive and kicking it'll be worth it," Chris responded with a small smile.