Four years ago, I was drawn to an orphanage. I was driving around town, trying to find something to do. At the time, I was twenty-four, had no boyfriend, and was living in an apartment. I had quite a bit of money saved up though, almost enough to buy a small house in the suburbs. As i rounded the corner, I was thinking about taking up a part-time job as well as my full-time one. Maybe get a boyfriend. There was a guy at work that's single. He's funny, kind, but kinda shy. His names Code.

I parked and got out of the car. I finally snapped out of it and looked at where I was. I was at an orphanage.

When I walked inside, there was one hour until closing. I didn't know what I was doing there, but I knew there was a reason.

"Hello ma'am, may I help you?" A woman walked up to me, carrying a small child with dark auburn hair.

"Uh, yeah," I started, though I didn't know what to say. "So how does your program work?"

"Well, normally someone schedules an appointment for a few hours, and they just hand out with the kids. They choose a kid by the end." She explained.

"Oh, should I schedule one?" I was embarrassed. "I can come back another time."

"No need," she laughed, "Lucky for you, I'm the owner, and there are no more appointments for the day. If you want, you can be the one to read them a bed-time story."

"Thank you!" I smiled.

She led me to the back where there was a dormitory, maybe about twenty children were talking, giggling, or trying to sleep. They were from infants to teenagers.

"Children, we have a nice lady here today!" She announced, "If you are good, she can read you a story!"

The children cheered, some jumping up to grab a book. I watched the children, smiling. Then I felt a tug on my sleeve. A small, sandy haired boy was holding up a book. Instead of grabbing the book, I hoisted him onto my lap.

He giggled and smiled at me, his dark brown eyes staring lovingly into mine. The boy couldn't be a day over three. He held the book up, turning the pages as I read. Most of the children had fallen asleep halfway through, but the boy was awake as could be.

When I finished, he jumped up and ran to the shelf. He reached up, trying to get a book from one of the higher shelves. I giggled seeing him strain to get a certain, special, book. I was about to get up and help him, but he jumped and grabbed the book.

He ran over to me, a proud look on his face," Up!"

I picked him up once more and started to read. I felt him nodding off halfway through the book, and by the end, his head was heavy on my shoulder.

The owner walked back into the room, smiling, "I don't think I even have to ask, let me get the paperwork.

After I had finished the Mountain of paperwork, I stared to worry. I knew nothing about this kid, I didn't even know his name!

"Uhh, what's his name?" I was certain I didn't see it on the paperwork.

"Well," Mary started,"The only information we have about him is his birthday, which just happens to be tomorrow."

I thanked her and checked my watch, Crap. I had twenty minutes to run to the nearest store buy a car seat, and run out before they closed.

I ran in, found the nearest employee, and asked her where to buy car seats. The employee was a woman about five years older than me, her stomach showing she was obviously pregnant.

"Did you just come from next door?" she asked looking at the boy I was balancing on my hip.

I laughed, "Do I really look that inexperienced?"

We laughed and talked all the way to the car seat area, she recommended some and even helped me find other supplies for the boy.

"Thank you so much!" I thanked her as I payed for my items, "Could I get your phone number?"

We exchanged phone numbers and I drove home. When I got home, I tucked the boy into my bed and I fell asleep on the couch.

I wake up the next morning at six to find him sitting up, staring at me with big, curious eyes. I smiled at him and he grinned back.

"Hi!" I greeted him, "I'm Trixie, what's your name?"

"W-well," he looked down nervously and blushed, "I dunno."

"Well, we've got to fix that, don't we?" I watched his eyes light up.

I looked him over, thinking of the day before. He was warm and comforting, like a cup of coffee, but sweet like chocolate.

"Mocha!" I blurted the name without even thinking.

"So, what's for breakfast," he beamed at me, "Mommy."

That was the first wonderful day with my son. Now it is the last.

"Remember the first day we met Mommy?" he whispered up from my lap.

"Of course!" I smiled back sweetly, but sadly.

"I'm gonna tell you a secret." he is so quiet I need to lean in closer to hear. "I didn't even like the second book, I just wanted you to see how high I could jump."

I laugh, but tears stream down my face all the same. He knows he is dying. I didn't even have to tell him. He knows.

"Mommy," he begs, "Tell me why you named me Mocha."

"Well," I start, "You are warm and comforting, like a cup of coffee. But you are sweet, like chocolate. And Mocha is a chocolate coffee."

I leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, "Its also my favorite drink."

He giggled.

"I'm gonna miss you," he smiles up at me, silent tears falling down his face.

He's being so brave, why can't I do the same?

"I'm going to miss you too Mocha, I love you." I smile back sadly, trying not to cry.

Why does he have to go?

He reaches up to me with a shaking hand, "Don't cry Mommy, I'm not going forever, you'll see me again," he whimpers, "Maybe I'll play tricks on you as a ghost!"

I giggle, the tears keep coming.

Why someone so kind, innocent, and pure! Why him, why not...me?

I hug him. I want to hold him forever. Never let him go.

He pushes me back, smiles bravely even though, under that smile, I know he is trembling with fear, and kisses me, "Thank you..."

I lay him back down on the hospital bed, and kiss him on the forehead, "I'll be waiting for those pranks."

I walk out of the hospital and drive home in a daze. I see Code on the way to my apartment, but don't stop to say hello.

"Hey!" He runs up to me, "Trixie-"

I walk up the stairs and unlock my door. I can hear footsteps behind me, but don't care.

I walk inside, not bothering to close the door. I try to get something to drink, but I step on a Whoopi cushion.

"Got right to work, didn't you?" I laugh, but get no response.

The silence is overwhelming, I am used to the pure bright laugher whenever I stepped on or sat on a Whoopi cushion.

"Trixie?" His voice is urgent. "Trixie are you okay? Can I come inside?"

I just cry. He walks inside and helps me up.

"Let's get something to drink," he suggests, "Anywhere you want to go?"

I shake my head, words not coming out of my mouth. I don't even feel anything. I feel like a rag doll.

"Okay," he picks me up bridal style, "what's wrong little baby?"

I just cry harder, that's what he did with Mocha when he was crying. Since he lives in the same apartment complex as us he helped babysit.

"Oh," he figures it out, "I'm really sorry, I really really am."

He puts me down and hugs me. We sit there, and I know he's crying too.