I headed north towards Scottsboro and along the way I saw the finest of people and bought the cheapest of liquor. I stopped at a rest stop about a mile down the road from home. Avoiding conversation as much as I could but was forced to start some after all my map was out of date. Excuse me sir, could you point me towards the road to Scottsburo, Al?" I asked a kind man with his little girl in his grip. She was the cutest thing with her spiked hair and dirty shoes. He replied to me a few seconds later after looking both ways.

"Yeah, Scottsburo! Follow up the road about three hours. Why is a lady like you headed that way anyway, there isn't much there?"

I waved to the little girl and in return a chocolate smeared smile. "Thank you so much mister. I'm headed there to visit an old friend."

"Good luck!"

I gave a sideways wave while starting back towards my old worn out Toyota Camry. It was my first car and I was intending on selling her but I fell in love with the way she was. I was used to the chipped paint and the smell of aged leather. She was mine all mine and she ran just fine. I started her up and headed towards Scottsboro again. I slid in a disc I picked up at Second and Charles a few months back. The band Fuel isn't very big now but I still love listening to them. A couple of hours down the road I saw a sign for Scottsboro. Only a few miles and bridge away. I started to crack the windows I could smell the breeze that drifted across the Tennessee river. I was home, and home had never smelt better. I thought how silly of me to just start off like this without cash and a map, but knowing that I was almost there assured me that it was oh so worth it! I was over the bridge and a few miles down the road still listening to Fuel when arrived. Finally in Scottburo, this rusty old small town had so much to offer. Not many people would give it a chance. They'd just drive on through like the people were nothing. I arrived a block away from where my parents used to live. I said hello to the gatekeeper and made my way through the cemetery. My old friend Kyle rested there, six feet underneath a polished gravestone.