Raphael woke the the sounds of birds chirping outside his window. Looking at his alarm clock he saw it was 7:00 am. With a mighty yawn, he got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he noticed that he had bags under his eyes. No surprise to him though, he barely slept that night. Thoughts about his mother kept him up most of the night. After his morning routine and breakfast, he grabbed the paper and walked out the door onto the street. Asking a nearby police officer for directions, he found out it was 3 blocks north of the monastary. He had been so close his entire life, why didn't the monks tell him? On his way there, he pondered what he would say to her. He wanted to be mad at her for leaving him as a baby, but also wanted to believe it was a misunderstanding, that she would take him back with open arms and he could forget everything else and be with his mom forever. But as he neared the address, all of his excitement went away. It was the graveyard. He walked to the gate to make sure he had gotten the address right, and it was. He couldn't belive it. Dead. She wasn't alive anymore. She wouldn't be able to take him in. But she never wanted to take him in, did she? If she really wanted him, he wouldn't have been at the monastary his whole life. He tucked the paper inside his robe and walked to Central Park. The monks would understand if he didn't work today. By 8:00, he had reached the park. Making his way to the grassy hill he lay on yesterday, he noticed the tree next to the bench where that group of people sat. It's been so long since he used his gift on purpose, he decided to climb the tree up to the middle branches, and lay on his back on them. His superiour balance keeping him up. Staring at the leaves, he began to think about his life.