I have this condition.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

My black dress was itchy. I think it was one of my older cousins or something. I hated hand-me-downs, they never fit like they were supposed to. I looked up at all the adults around me. A few had tears, but most just looked solemn with their fancy black dresses and suits. I don't know why, but the tears just wouldn't come. It couldn't be really happening. The hero always comes back. Any second now he would just pop out from behind a grave stone, ready to save my day once again. He would take my hand and walk me to the movie theater again like we did every week. He'd pick something hollywood style, where every one lives happily ever after to pick up our spirits.

Yet here I was, watching the coffin into the ground. The tears started flowing. The hero wasn't coming back. My grandmother grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It was done. Everyone started going back to the reception. I couldn't, wouldn't leave. My grandmother had to pick me up and carry me inside.

I didn't want to talk to anyone so I hid in the corner away from the noise. They were playing soundtracks to his favorite movies and that killed me. It made it worse. Then I saw her. Sadness turned to anger in a second. She saw me and started walking over as I continued to glare.

"Honey, don't give me that stare. I miss him too. I know its hard for you to understand, but you have to listen to me," that woman said.
"No, you left. Daddy told me to forget about it and forgive you, but he was the good guy. You are the bad guy. And now he's gone and the bad guy won." I said.
"You make it sound like I wanted him to die. This isn't one of your stupid movies."
"Movies aren't stupid. Daddy liked movies. I'm not stupid, you are."
"How dare you call your own mother stupid! That is complete disrespect. If today wasn't what it was, you'd be going into time out."
"You aren't my mom! I hate you! You can't make me do anything. All I want is daddy."
"Daddy isn't coming back, you know that. If you would just listen, we can leave and I'll explain everything to you. Why I left too. I didn't want to leave."
"I'm not listening to you! I'm not leaving with you! Leave me alone. Forever! I'm going with granny."

I ran off without another word. She yelled something as I left; it sounded something like, I loathe you or I love you. I didn't know what loathe meant and there was no way she would say love. I jumped in my grandmothers arms for comfort.
  --------------------
I slowly opened my eyes. The smell hit me first; it was awful. I looked up and there was the dumpster. In the distance I saw someone running away and I remembered the mugging. Some help I was, I thought. Although I must have smelled awful, luckily I landed in the pile of garbage to catch my fall. I ached my way to standing and started walking, unsure of where to go.

As I walked away I realized the dream I was having was actually a memory. My father was dead, and the woman in the hospital was my mom, but she left.. or something. For some reason I didn't like her, so I couldn't go back to her. Yet in the memory she said she loved me... Why did she leave?

I decided to put those thoughts away for now and figure out where exactly I could shower and sleep. The memory told me to start in the movie theater.