Prompt:

"Seems you missed the "Don't talk to strangers" lesson."

The kid shrugs, "What's it to you if I talk to strangers?"

I roll my eyes and slowly turn to look at the kid. "I could be a kidnapper or something, you know? Where's your sense of self-preservation? It's called 'stranger danger' for a reason."

He huffs and crosses his arms," Yeah, well, I can tell when strangers are ‘dangers’ or not," he glances at me and then looks back at the house," so, why are you staring at this house?"

I lean back on the bench and kick my feet out, crossing them at the ankle,"Since you're so nosy, I used to live there. It's been a long time and I...I don't know, I just wanted to see it again."

The kid uncrosses his arms and rests his hands on the bench seat, leaning forward and scuffing his shoes against the cement. "Why? That seems dumb if you don't live here anymore."

'This is why I don't have kids,' I think with a scowl. ‘Nothing but questions and sass.’

"You wouldn't get it,” I snapped,”and I really don't want to explain. Again, stranger," I gesture at myself,"stranger," I wave a hand in his direction.

He purses his lips and scuffs a shoe hard against the ground,"Jeez, no reason to be so rude."

I scrub my face with a hand and heave a sigh. ‘Now I feel bad...great.’

"Look, it's a lot of,” I gesticulate a bit and eventually drop my hand to my lap,”... complicated feelings, okay? Even I have a hard time processing it all, and I lived it! I just don't have the energy to detail my childhood baggage." I prop my elbow on the bench back, and lean my cheek against my fist, staring at the house sullenly,"...my parents still live there."

The kid stares at me in silence, his eyebrows raised in an unknown reaction. Shock? Disbelief? Hell if I knew what that face meant. He sat up and turned more to look at me.

"Then why are you sitting here? Shouldn't you be there visiting them?"

I smiled sadly and shook my head," Nah, they wouldn't know me anymore. We haven't spoken in...," I lean my head back, thinking, my neck pops and I roll my head side to side. I gently rub where my neck popped, getting old sucked.

"...at least 20 years," I finally say. I blink slowly, eyes partially glazed over as I stare at the house and recall the time that has passed. My smile fades and my grip on my neck tightens.

The kid frowns at the house, glances at me, then stares at the house again.

There’s nothing truly remarkable about the house itself, but there is a single faded sign stuck in the front lawn. On it is a picture of a smiling teen, bolded text asking anyone for information and a cash reward to sweeten the deal. The electricity poles have remnants of paper being stapled to it, the little that remains on the pole bears a striking resemblance to the yard’s sign. I drop my hand to my lap and squeeze my fists tightly, trying to hold back the anger and hurt.

The kid straightens up quickly, eyes wide and panicked," Is..," he presses his lips together and points at the sign, his hand is shaking a bit," is that you?"

I stare at the picture, memories flashing through my brain and stinging my eyes.

"No," I whisper harshly, blinking hard and I stand from the bench. This kid has already heard far too much from me; with a roll of my shoulders I begin to walk away.

"Not any more.”