For the past two weeks I've been running through the streets I used to sleep on. Attempting to evade this anger.

Is it my fault she's gone?

If she had taken me in, she might not be dead now.

“I can't travel into the past can I Dorothy?,” I ask.

“No, sir,” she replies.

“And there's nothing in my handbook about bringing someone back from the dead?”

Dorothy sighs as she explains, “No, Danny, the one deal you have to cheat death does not apply to the already deceased. I apologize to inform you, but your mother would not want to be brought back to life. I am certain you already know this though.”

My heart begins to race, and I yell, “Don't tell me what she'd want! Don't even begin to think that you know her like I do!” Anxiety shortens my breath, but I hasten my pace. I can feel my knuckles turn white under my gloves.

Damn-it! How am I supposed to help bring balance, when I can't even keep my own emotions in check? I'd willingly give the air from my lungs so that she could live again.

I slow my pace, and realize my run has brought me back to the alley where we first met. It was late in the day and a layer of thick clouds spread across the monsoon season sky. Even though it was so gloomy, the memory in my mind is so crisp.

I was eight years old, finishing up a sandwich I had dug from the bakery's dumpster just around the corner. A few moments before the old lady showed up, an older homeless man came around to take what little food I had found. Luckily, I was able to calm him down, split the sandwich between us and resolve the situation. Mother walked up soon after. “It's important to not mirror the ways we are treated, poorly though it may be”, she said. “Even if life isn't how we want it to be, it is never right to express our anger negatively towards others. But I think you already knew that.” The old woman then called me pathetic, offered to put a roof over my head and offered to help me do something with my life. So I followed and never looked back.

I come out of my daze and realize I'm right outside my favorite tea shop. The old lady brought me here all the time. I fall to my knees and let tears fall from my face. “I'm sorry, Dorothy, I had no right to yell at you”, I apologize breathing deep and thinking of the mess I am right now.

“You know, Dorothy, you've really got your work cut out for you,” I say laughing, “guiding me through this world isn’t going to be easy.”

My head begins to ache, and I think I'm going crazy. I can swear I hear my mother's voice.

I must be going insane.

I hear a voice and look up to a light pole in the distance with an owl perched at the top. As I squint to see it, the owl yells, “You idiot, not even in death will you let this old woman relax!”