Pinwheels And Dandelions 4c51p

Pinwheels and Dandelions

Charlena E. Jackson, M.S., MHA

Copyright © 2021 by Charlena E. Jackson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced by a mechanical, photographic, or electronic process, or in the form of a photographic recording; nor may it be stored in a retrieval system, transmitted, or otherwise be copied for public or private use—other than for “fair used” as brief quotations embodied in article and reviews—without prior written of the author. The author assumes no responsibility for your actions.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover design by Annabelle Pullen Instagram name (@artofannabellepullen) [email protected]

Editor: Shelia Grimes [email protected] website: sheilagrimes1.com

Printed in the United States of America

April 2021 Ebook 978-1-7344838-6-4

Print 978-1-7344838-5-7

Dedicated

To every soul that is struggling and trying to survive in a toxic and abusive environment. Keep the faith, and know that you are loved, you have a purpose, you are wanted, and you matter.

Let the moonlight and stars guide you – for you are an authentic soul!

BOOKS BY CHARLENA E. JACKSON, M.S., M.H.A

No Cross, No Crown: Trust God Through the Battle

No Cross, No Crown: Trust God Through the Battle 2nd edition

I’m Speaking Up but You’re Not Listening

I’m Speaking Up but You’re Not Listening 2nd edition

Teachers Just Don’t Understand Bullying Hurts

Teachers Just Don’t Understand Bullying Hurts 2nd edition

A Woman’s Love is Never Good Enough

A Woman’s Love is Never Good Enough 2nd edition

Unapologetic for My Flaws and All

Unapologetic for My Flaws and All 2nd edition

Dying on the Inside and Suffocating on the Outside

Dear Fathers of the Fatherless Children

In Love with Blindfolds On

If I Lose Myself, I’ll Lose it All

The Stars Choose Our Lovers

Pinwheels and Dandelions

Table of Contents

Complete Darkness

Further Away

Wildest Dreams

Chasing Happiness

Familiar Place

Cloudless Skies

Sad Eyes

Parachute

Bed of Dandelions

Hour glass

Surrender

Borrowed Time

Spider web

Silent Sorrow

A Blessing and a Curse

Polar Night

Orphan Soul

Willow Tree

After the Rain

Yesterday

Lilac Skies

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Complete Darkness

M y momma died today. As I sit on my aunt Donna’s couch, I do not know if I should be happy or sad. That lady put a hurting on me with her selfishness. Instead of her taking care of me, I always found myself taking care of her and my little brother. She was the worst mother in the world. She never was good for anything. Maybe I shouldn’t say that well, on second thought, I have every right to speak my mind, at least to myself anyway. I always told myself that I would be a better mother to my children than my mom ever was to me—but she made me not want to have children. Ever.

For as long as I can , my mother was a drug and sex addict. When I was six years old, my mother had so many men coming in and out of our home, I couldn’t keep count. She always told me that they were my uncles, but I knew better. Not only were they in and out of our home, but most of the time, they lived with us for a day or two, maybe a week—sometimes as long as a month. My mother never cared about me—she loved her drugs more than her own flesh and blood.

So many times, I saw my mom's pale brittle body slide down our kitchen, living room or bathroom walls because the drugs knocked her out cold. Nearly every day, she would wrap a thick rubber band around her tiny arms, which were covered in marks. She would effortlessly insert a long needle filled with a clear liquid into her arm that made her sleep for hours. Those hours used to lead up to a couple of days leaving my mom ed out on the floor. During those times, I had to take care of myself.

I believe I learned how to use the microwave at the age of three. I was eager to

learn how to read—so I taught myself because that was the only way for me to survive so that I could read the instructions on whatever we had in the cabinets to eat. Red beans and rice were my saviors. When the power was off, I would eat cold canned goods. I can’t complain, because eating cold food was better than having an angry and empty stomach.

If my mom wasn’t sliding down the walls, she was either throwing up in the sink or on the floor. I was so tired of constantly cleaning up her toxic vomit. When I was seven years old, she begged a white man who always came by the house to bring her some heroin. He had filthy fingernails, dirty facial hair, and always wore the same checkerboard black and red shirt, nasty smelly blue jeans, and black boots with white paint on them. When he walked through the door, he would walk very slowly, with a cigar in his mouth. He always used to crack a creepy smile at me and wink his dark brown eyes, but this time it was different. He opened the broken wooden screen door yelling my mom's name, dangling a small clear bag in her face. “I got what you want, JoAnne.” He winked his left eye at me.

“Oh my … oh … oh … oh … my, Dan, I need this,” said my mom while scratching her right arm, then her chest, her head, and back to her right arm as she moved uncontrollably from side to side.

“What are you offering in return?” asked the guy, smirking and licking his chapped lips.

My mom fell on her knees, looked him in the eyes, “I am at your mercy, Dan. Whatever you want whatever you need … I am … I am at your mercy.”

He pulled my mom up by her dirty blond hair and yelled at her as he slapped her across the face, “You desperate slutty whore!”

I screamed. I don’t know why, because I was used to it, but this time it was different. He yanked me by my arm and threw me across the room. I called for my momma, but she swiped her hand at me, basically telling me to go away and leave her alone. I crawled into the corner of the kitchen. I pulled my knees towards my chest. I put my pink dress (it was my only dress…my favorite dress —it had watermelons on it) over my knees, and I stretched it as far as it could go. I was crying, and I was so scared. My hands were shaking. I didn’t know what to do. I watched my mom get on her hands and knees as the white man forcefully put his penis in her mouth. He balled my mom’s hair around his fist and told her to be a good bitch. My mom was choking, and saliva was coming out of her mouth; her eyes were rolling to the back of her head. I thought she was dying. He told my mom to open wide as he ejaculated in her mouth and all over her face. He had a scary laughed as he told my mom to swallow her salty dinner. My mom did as she was told—and the man zipped up his pants and threw the drugs on the floor. My mom crawled to them as if she was a homeless and helpless dog. I stayed in the corner with my knees pulled up to my chest as I watched my mom once again out for days.

I cleaned what I could, but it wasn’t good enough. When my mom didn’t have her drugs, she would throw a glass or whatever she could to calm her nerves. However, once again, another man was walking through our door with something in his hands. I didn’t know his name, but he always called me ‘Little Ms. Lady.’ He would bring me something to eat in a greasy brown paper bag, but I never ate it because I didn’t know if I would owe him a favor.

Many days I went to school stinky and dirty because most of the time, our water was off. I would try to take a quick wash-up before school started, but it didn’t help because my clothes were so filthy. I went to school in a district where nobody cared. Hunger and abuse fell on deaf ears—it was more of they were not going to get involved because it wasn’t their shit or their problem. School was my place of rest because I never got any sleep when I was home. My home was a revolving door for junkies. It was a sex and dope house. I was the only child until my mom got pregnant with my brother, Kace. Not only did I have to take

care of myself at the age of nine, but I had to take care of him too.

Before my brother was born, I had nine hopeless years. I wanted to take my life, but I knew I had to survive and live for him. I when my mom brought him home, she threw him on the bed and said, “Ember, take care of him. If he cries, you might need to feed him, hold him, or change him.” Just like me, my mother doesn’t know who my brother’s father is. There were times when I missed many days of school, but nobody noticed. I didn’t want to leave my brother alone—after all, I was his caregiver. However, I made sure I went to school at least two or three days out of the week. On those days when I got back home, he was still in the same place where I left him. His diaper wasn’t changed, and he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink. As always, my mom was strung out or on the streets somewhere. When I got off the school bus, I could hear my brother crying—you would think someone would be curious, but our neighbors were on drugs too. However, drug fiends are not curious about anything because they are too far gone.

Three years later, Child Protective Services finally caught on. Police burst through the broken screen door into what we called our ‘home.’ I that day as if it was an hour ago. My mom was dressed in a dirty white slip that she’d had on for days, if not weeks. She was barefoot, and her toenails were black. Her hair looked like a thick ball of yarn that was sitting on top of her head. Needless to say, it was all over the place. Her lips were crusty and pale. The dark shadows under her eyes never faded away—it seemed like they darkened every single day. My mom’s teeth, well, what little teeth she had were black and dark yellow. They were so disgusting. One day, when my mom was knocked out cold, I counted her teeth—she had seven of them in her mouth. Two of the seven were wiggling, and I knew they were going to fall out sooner rather than later. Her gums were a color I couldn’t describe. What I didn’t understand is why the roots of her teeth were still connected to her gums. I guess they weren’t ready to come out, but the drugs had damaged and rotted her teeth. Her fingernails were brittle and cracked. My mom looked like death.

Her voice was hoarse as she was yelling and telling them to get the fuck out of her house. The 'man of the hour’ who I had never seen before, pushed me out of the way as he ran from the cops. I ran into my room to get my brother, Kace, who was three years old at the time. I quickly dressed him in some warm and comfortable clothes, and I pushed the heavy wooden dresser over to the window. I told him that I was going to jump, and after I jumped, I would tell him when to jump. He was scared, but I reassured Kace that I would catch him. I told him to trust me. After I jumped, I held my arms out and told him to jump. I caught him, held him tightly in my arms, and ran as fast as I could.

I didn’t get far, only to the brick mailbox, until a slim black lady and a tall white man with bronze eyes trapped me in. I tried to run left, but they yelled, “Ember, we are here to help!” I didn’t let go of my brother, and I tried to run right. Again, they yelled, “Please trust us! We are here to help!” I was trapped. Kace was crying, and I sheltered him by holding him tighter in my arms. I whispered in his ear that I wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He nodded his head and said, “Okay.”

The social worker looked me in my eyes, “Ember, I promise you I am going to find the both of you a good home. I will do my best to keep you and Kace together.” I looked at the male social worker, and he nodded his head. I slowly pulled down Kace's light blue sweater to keep him warm and handed him over to them. He was crying and reaching for me. I told him not to worry, that we were going to be together. I walked behind the lady; however, the man asked me to follow him. I asked, “Why?” He stuttered, “I … I … I need you to go in the house to get your and Kace’s belonging.” I walked into the kitchen and got two black trash bags. I put what little clothes I had into one and Kace’s clothes into another. I reached over and got Kace’s favorite toy which was a rainbow pinwheel. Before I left the house, I closed my eyes, blew out a breath, and made a wish.

I walked to the black car Kace was in. I tried opening the door, but it was locked. The lady took Kace’s bag of clothes and said, “You will be riding in the white

car in front of us.” There was a breeze. A strand of my blond hair blew in my face. If fire could come from my eyes, I would have set her on fire. All I could think of was—she lied to me. I tried to stay calm for Kace, “Why do I have to get into the white car? Why can’t Kace and I drive in the same car?” She was tongue-tied. I pushed her out of my way and screamed Kace’s name as I banged on the tinted window of the back seat, “Kace, open the door!” I banged on the window with both of my hands as hard as I could, “Kace, pull the knob! Open the door, Kace!” I screamed, “Please, Kace, please open the door!”’ He tried opening the door, “I can’t … I am trying, Em. It is stuck.” I guess it was childproof.

The male social worker picked me up. I was screaming, “Let me go!” I was putting up a fight, “You are a liar! You lied to me!” I bit his hand. He yelled, “Damn it!” I ran over to my brother and banged on the window. Kace was crying, screaming, and banging on the window as well, “Save me, Em! I am scared!”

I quickly ran to get a brick so that I could bust the window, but the car pulled away. I ran after it screaming, “Kace! Kace! Kace!” When I couldn’t catch up to the car, I stood in the middle of the street until it disappeared.

I kicked the dirt. After the dust settled, I looked up and saw my mom in handcuffs. I ran over to her, balled my fist, and yelled, “This is all your fault!” Her eyes looked cold as ice. She spat in my face and told me to shut the fuck up. As they walked her to the car, she was yelling at me, “Ember, this is all your fault! You told your teachers! They took Kace because of you!” I was shaking my head over and over again, “No! No, I didn’t tell a soul. I didn’t tell, Momma … I didn’t tell … I didn’t tell anyone.” The male social worker walked me to the white car. I crawled in and put my bag of clothes in my lap. He put the child safety lock on the door. I looked out the window, and it had started to rain. I pulled out half of a brown paper bag from the trash bag and started to write:

Dear Complete Darkness, The raindrops on the window represent my tears. I am twelve-years-old with tons and tons of shadows creeping all around me. I do not know where he is taking me, but I know where I come from. I come from the darkness with maybe a beam of light every now and then. I come from cracked pipes scattered everywhere and syringes stuck in my mother’s arm after she collapsed on the dirty floor. I come from a mother who put her faith in drugs and doesn’t give a shit about me. I come from my safe place as I take cover in the kitchen cabinet, rocking back and forth until the coast is clear. I come from sleepless nights, taking advantage of the moonlight while I close my eyes, pretending like I am hugging and kissing the moon. I come from making wishes on every dandelion I stumble across. I come from teaching myself how to read and write and learning how to survive. I come from never having light in my life until Kace was born. Now that Kace has been taken from me, I am in complete darkness. I am back to where I started from, and that is—I come from the darkness where there is no beam of light. I come from not knowing where I am going, but I know the moon will follow me. Well, I hope it does, but sometimes I think the moon forgets about me too—then once again, I am in complete darkness without a flicker of light.

Ember

Further Away

A pparently, I must have been in deep thought. I felt Kace shaking my arm, “Look, Em, look…” He had a toy airplane in his hand, “Look what Aunt Donna bought me.” He nodded his head with excitement, “Isn’t it cool?” He continued, “Aunt Donna’s house is so big. I think Momma would have loved it here!” I know my facial expression told it all. I looked at my mother’s sister, Donna, without a trace of a smile on my face, “What is this? I suppose you are making up for lost time …” I looked at Kace, and then I looked at Donna, “No, Momma wouldn’t have loved it here because none of us were welcome. Donna is doing all of this because she feels guilty.”

She shook her head, “No, Ember. When I saw it, I figured maybe Kace would like it.”

I bit my lip, “That’s what you thought?” I pushed myself off the couch, “Do you want to know what I was just thinking about?”

She stood there without saying a mumbling word.

“I was just thinking about how much of a shitty Mom my mom was to Kace and me. Thinking about what she did and what you didn’t do makes me hate her and you even more than I already do.” I pointed at her, “You thought Kace would like a toy airplane.” I yelled, “Well, Donna, nobody gives a fuck about what you think!” I walked a little closer to her, “You know what? Kace and I would have liked for you to be there for us when we were snatched away from each other.

Kace and I would have liked for you to have saved us from going from one deadbeat home to the next!” I stepped a little closer, “And you know what, Donna? I would have liked it if you had come to visit me when I was in Juvie!” I stepped back, nodded my head, and looked her up and down, “But you thought Kace would like a toy airplane.”

“I really like the airplane, Em,” said Kace. I said to myself, sure he does. Kace is young; he doesn’t understand. He went back to the other room to play.

While I was walking back to sit on the couch, Donna asked me if I would like my mom to be cremated or buried. I stopped in my tracks, turned around, and stared at her for a moment, “Does it look like I care? I do not care what you do. Whatever you do, she will be exactly where she needs to be, and Kace and I will finally be at peace. ”

Donna asked me what my mother’s favorite color was. I didn’t answer her. Instead, I said to myself, the hell if I know.

The only thing that was going on in my mind was the first day that I was separated from Kace. I felt like the world suffocated me because of my mother’s fuck-ups. I slouched on Donna’s creamy couch that was covered with clear plastic that uncomfortably hugged my skin. I hate anything and everything that is plastic and clear. It reminds me of every drug that was packed in a clear and plastic small bag for my momma. Or a clear plastic syringe filled with a clear liquid that my mom used with a needle to fulfill her selfish needs. I punched the couch; dammit my mom was so fucking selfish! I couldn’t help but think Kace and I suffered and now bear the consequences of cruelty because of her.

Kace suffered because he didn’t have me. I know I was with strangers, but at least I could take up for myself. I would never know what Kace went through. I

drifted into deep thought and instantly began to think of the day Kace and I were separated. It was a long ride for me. The social worker tried holding a conversation, but I wasn’t interested. He lied to me—and I do not talk to liars. At that moment, I knew Kace was far from me, and I was becoming further and further away from him.

On the way to wherever I was going, I flipped the piece of brown paper over and began to write:

Dear Hopeless Soul,

Listening to my heartbeat was the only comfort I had. However, my heavy heart sinks from carrying what seems like everlasting pain. My heart is now ripped from my soul because I cannot feel the warm blood in my veins. I feel a cold front coming, and now my heart is frozen. I am cold—a coldhearted soul. My heart no longer beats for borrowed peace because it is paralyzed from continually having to start over again. I have officially lost hope. What is hope? In my eyes, hope is a teaser. I had hoped that things will get better, but when? Hope is not for now—it is for the future. Therefore, I guess hope is saying that things will not be better today, but maybe years or decades from now. With that being said, hope is not faith. Hope is wishful thinking. Hope is always shattered by one disappointment after another.

Right now, I am in my own shadow. It is dark and lonely. I am a nightwalker trying to find the light within me somewhere. I can’t find myself in my own shadow. Well, what do I expect? My heart is cold. Hope has played with my emotions one too many times, and the only thing I can count on as of right now is my shadow. I do not have anything in life. I am a soul that is trying to find my way. Where am I going? I do not know. Everything has been taken from me, but they cannot take my shadow, and they cannot own my name.

Faded from within,

Ember

We pulled up to what looked like in the dark, a white house with green shutters. I reached for my garbage bag full of dirty clothes. I took a deep breath as I walked closer to the door. My feet felt heavy as I dragged them, scraping my shoes on the ground. The social worker rang the doorbell. A heavyset white lady with a blue nightcap on her head opened the door. She unlocked the glass screen, “Ouch, gotdammit! I chipped my nail. I just polished them.” The social worker looked at me. I looked at him, knowing I was entering a hell-hole. She tried to laugh it off as she blushed and forced a fake smile, “My apologies, that was a bad word. I do not use vile language in my home. Bad words are not allowed in here.” She opened the glass screen a tad bit wider, “Please come in.”

I walked into her living room. To my left was a huge mirror on the wall. In front of the mirror were two brown matching chairs, while to my right were a brown couch and a fireplace. Above the fireplace was a picture of Jesus sitting at the table—I think they call it The Last Supper, before He died on the cross. Knowing one of the men was going to betray Him, but He trusted the guy anyway. I never understood that part of the Bible. Well, quite frankly, I do not understand the Bible at all. Jesus broke bread with a man, knowing that man was going to turn against him. I couldn’t help but think, boy oh boy, I know all about betrayal. I looked at the picture for a while and knew right then and there, I would rather live on the streets than be with someone who was supposed to be religious. Who am I to judge? But most of the time, they are the worst ones.

We walked through the dining room. It was the norm—a wooden table with eight wooden chairs instead of four. The table cloth said, What Would Jesus Do? On the wall was a picture of Jesus—lights were beaming around Him while His

arms were opened wide.

Towards my left was a staircase. We walked up the steep stairs in the dark. I wondered why she didn’t put on the light. She knocked on the door that was right in front of us—as a matter of fact, it was right at the top of the staircase. “Come in,” said a young girl’s voice. The heavyset lady opened the door. It was a pretty room with pale green flowers on some parts of the walls. The girl had a real bed—it was huge! I never had a bed. I never even had a mattress. The hard wooden floor was always my bed, but I learned to live with it. You can’t miss something you never had. Her floor was covered with soft green carpet and there was a cute white desk in her room.

“Mariah, sweetie, this is …” the lady looked at me. I looked back at her because she didn’t ask me my name, nor did she introduce herself to me. I held on to my bag. “My name is Ember.”

“Oh, yeah, Ember,” said the lady, who really didn’t give a shit.

The girl looked at me and didn’t move an inch. After a short moment, she turned her back and pulled the covers over her head as she rudely said, “Whatever. Turn off my light and close my door.”

“Mariah is my daughter. This is her room and her room only. Your room is right down the hall,” said the lady.

She showed me my room which was next to Mariah’s. It was decent, better than where I came from. The floor was hardwood. There was a twin bed in the lefthand corner and a bunk bed on the right. I wondered why the room didn’t have a

window.

She said excitedly, “You all are special! You have your own bathroom!”

I knew what this was about. I was going to be stuck in here.

There were two girls in the bunk bed. “This is Johanna.” She was in the top bunk. Johanna didn’t smile or acknowledged me. She had straight black hair and sadness in her eyes, as if the world had turned on her. I felt her pain.

“This is Nathalie.” Of course, she was on the lower bunk. She had blonde hair, and moved a couple of her fingers under her covers to say hello. Neither of them spoke.

I waved back.

The social worker broke the silence, “I am taking it that the single bed is Ember’s?”

“Oh, yes … yes … yes …” said the lady, nodding her head and smiling with her arms crossed.

He looked at me, then looked at the bed, “Where are the covers?”

“Oh, my …” she touched her heart, “Oh, my … I totally forgot. Jesus, what am I thinking? I will be right back.”

She came back with some pink sheets and a heavy white comforter. The sheets smelled so good, and the comforter looked so cozy and warm. I couldn’t wait to go to sleep. The lady put the sheets on the bed and spread the comforter. The finishing touch was two pillows—she put the pink pillowcases on them as she fluffed the pillows and threw them on the bed.

I smiled, “Thank you.”

“You are so welcome, Sweetie.”

“May I ask your name?”

“Sweet Jesus, where are my manners. I didn’t introduce myself…my name is Ms. Waters.”

“Thank you, Ms. Waters.”

“You are welcome, sweetie. My home is your home.”

The social worker smiled and seemed at ease. He walked me to the front door and gave me his card. I read it out loud, “Andrew Richardson.” I continued, but I looked at him this time, “You know, you never told me your name. You just told

me you were a social worker.”

“My apologies, Ember.”

I made eye with him, “When will I see my brother? Where is he?”

“You will see him soon, I promise. We just need to find a place for you all to stay for tonight and a couple of weeks.”

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep, Mr. Richardson.”

He smiled slightly, “Ember, I will do my best.” He reached for the glass screen door.

“Wait. Mr. Richardson, you didn’t answer my question. Where is he?”

“I cannot tell you that at the moment.”

I looked confused. “Is it a secret? What do you mean you cannot tell me at the moment? He is my brother!” I yelled, “I have a right to know!”

He walked towards the door, “Please call me if you need anything, Ember.”

I quickly ran in front of him. I stood between him and the screen door, “I need to know where my brother is.” Tears formed in my eyes. “I am begging you to please tell me.” I looked at him as I lowered my voice and said softly, “Please. I need to know.”

He looked at me, but he didn’t say anything.

I didn’t blink, “Mr. Richardson, is he nearby? Is he far?” I waited for an answer.

“I cannot tell you where he is.” He kneeled down and looked me directly in my eyes, “Ember, I know you care a lot for your little brother. Please know he will be in good hands.”

I knew he was lying because Kace can’t be in good hands with strangers. He can’t be in good hands without me caring for and protecting him.

“Why did you split us up?”

“Because we couldn’t find someone who would take two children in their household at the last minute.” He held his head down. He then looked at me, “We tried.”

I nodded my head. I guess it wasn’t anything else to say. My mind was on my brother. I had to fight for him some way or another—I didn’t know how but I would figure out something.

After Mr. Richardson left, my world was turned upside down. When I walked to my assigned room, all of my sheets and the comforter were taken off the bed. The pillows were gone too. I looked over at the other girls; they didn’t have the blankets that had been on their beds either. They were shivering in the windowless, dark, cold room. As always, I keep a pen and plenty of brown paper bags nearby. I didn’t have any light; therefore, I had to imagine I was writing in a straight line:

Dear Darkness,

I am in a dark room, and the moon is nowhere in sight. I knew it was going to leave me again. Well, I guess it is not fair for me to assume. A little while ago, it was traveling side-by-side with me. The moon is my best friend. Maybe it is sad and looking for me too. It feels good to know someone cares. I hope the moon feels my energy and knows that I am okay—for now anyways. I have faith that I will see it tomorrow. This room is depressing. The girls here are afraid. I feel them staring at me. My hands are shivering, and I am cold. My fingers begin to feel like icicles. Once again, I will not rest tonight. I have so much on my mind. I wish someone would tell me it would be alright. I wish someone would tell me that I am not alone. The walls in this small room are closing in on me. It is hard for me to breathe. I am too young, but who cares. I am just another nobody that they never see. Just when I was losing the will to fight. I reached in my pocket—I cannot see what I am pulling out, but I would know the texture of a dandelion anywhere. Dear dandelion, you and the moon are my family. I am making a wish for you to keep Kace safe from harm. I know nobody will ever tell me this, but please let Kace know everything will be alright and that I am with him, and he is not alone. Thank you. Good night moon. Good night dandelion. All is well within my soul because I know you two are here.

Yours Truly,

Ember

Once again, Aunt Donna tapped me on my shoulder, “Ember, what is your mother’s favorite color?” I jumped up, “The hell if I know!” I was about to storm out of the room. However, I turned around, “She didn’t have a fucking favorite color. She was a transparent, opaque, and translucent crack head. Her favorite things were a clear plastic bag, a clear syringe, and clear liquid.” I walked away … then I walked back, “Oh, and white is her favorite color for sure. She loved white crack, white heroin, all kinds of white drugs!”

“How disrespectful!” yelled my aunt. She walked closer to me, “Have some remorse for your mother. For goodness’ sake, your mother is dead!”

“How dare you say I am disrespectful! You act like I owe my mom something.” I pointed my finger at her, “I don’t owe her anything! My dead mother always insulted my character. Let’s talk about disrespect. She set the tone for everyone to disrespect me … and Kace! She started all of this shit! I’ve been in hell on earth because of my crackhead mother!” I yelled, “She didn’t die from a natural cause!” I threw my hands in her air, “She brought this on herself.” I took a step closer and pointed my index finger in Donna’s face, “She caused all of this shit! And you think I should show her some grace and mercy? No, fuck that!” I was filled with so much anger. I tightened my lips, “My selfish mother died from an overdose! Ever since I can , I knew my mother was going to die from either an overdose or stabbed to death because she was a prostitute.”

I took one more step closer to my aunt, “Don’t you dare tell me I am being disrespectful … I was tossed around like trash on the fucking streets! I never had a home! The bench was my home, or I was in a group home or in one unstable foster care after another—fighting for my fucking life! Oh, not to mention the fuck-up ass detention centers I was thrown into. They treated me like a wild

animal in a cage. At a young age, I was trying to survive! The only thing that I was familiar with was the black plastic bag that contained my dirty rags!” I walked a tad bit closer to her and dug my finger in her chest, “And don’t you dare fix your mouth and call her my fucking mother! Because of her, I am damaged, and I’ve been paying for her reckless actions since birth!!” I looked Donna up and down, “How dare you talk about respect. Mentally I am in a cage, hunted, traumatized, trapped, unable to dream and to love because of her! She was never a mother to me. She never knew Kace!” I threw my hands up, “Hell, we do not know what Kace’s has been through. Kace never ever knew her. I am Kace’s mother—and I always will be. Our crackhead of a mother was never sober enough to fucking care.”

I pointed to my chest out of anger, “I … me! I am Kace’s mom!” I stared at Donna and asked harshly and very slowly, “Why do you care? All of a sudden, you’re acting like you give a shit? Why couldn’t you take Kace and me in? Instead, we went from one hell-hole to the next. You are not any better than JoAnne!” I walked backward and pointed at her, “You are a shitty human being who is acting like you really give a shit—and JoAnne, all she was to me was a fuck-up!”

Donna tightened her lips, “As long as you are in my gotdamn house, you are going to respect my sister and your mother.”

“Fine, I don’t know why I am fucking here in the first place.” I stepped back and looked her squared in the eye, “You didn’t answer my question. Why couldn’t you take us in? Where were you? Huh, where were you, Auntie Donna?”

She started to breathe hard.

I nodded my head, “Uh, no answer. Just as I figured.”

She didn’t answer.

“Here I am, sixteen years old, and Kace is seven. After all these fucking years, where the fuck were you? Huh?”

She didn’t say a mumbling word. I helped her out and said, “Right. No answer. You didn’t have any children, never married, and you always had a decent job. Yet, you couldn’t take us in. You knew JoAnne was on drugs. You knew I was alone in the world before Kace was even born. You knew all of this shit, but you never came to save me. You were that person who could have kept Kace and me together.” I laughed, “After all these fucked-up years. Yet, you were nowhere to be found until now. Well, 'now,’ Donna, doesn’t fucking count. Don’t try to pretend like she was the mother of the gotdamn year for sixteen years. You could have let us stay with you … but … noooooooo … noooooooo … you didn’t want your dope-head sister’s kids in your home.” I looked at her in disgust, “You are no better than her.”

She raised her hand (I caught it) and yelled, “Don’t talk about your mother like that! Regardless of what she did—she was your mother!”

I raised my hand and slapped her, “She is not my fucking mother. She was a junkie, she was a dope head, and she was a fucking selfish slut!” I yelled, “You want to put on a show for everyone to see.” I stood there, “It’s too late to act like you fucking care. That’s what everyone does in a time like this. They want to act like a fucking family. Everyone, including you, dealt me their hand of cards of straight-up bullshit. You all expect me to accept what is.” I squinted my eyes, turned up my nose, and said in a high-pitched voice, “You expect me to always be kind and to be a good girl.” I yelled, “But when I return the energy that you

all give me, all of a sudden, you all want to act like the victim—and I am the bad guy! How is that? When you all are the ones who fucked me over. You know what? I am over all of the bullshit. My deck of cards is not giving out any more sympathy cards.” I threw my hands up, “I do not have any more sympathy cards to give.”

I stormed out of her house and ran to the nearest park.

Wildest Dreams

T he park is filled with the laughter of innocent children. There was a happy-golucky little girl whose baby doll curls were bouncing as she ran and jumped into (I am assuming) her daddy’s arms. He was smiling from ear to ear as he swung her around. He pulled her cute pink ruffled dress down, kissed her on the cheek, and said, “I love you, Bella.” He put her down and covered her with so much love while hugging her, “It’s time to go home, sweetie.” She reached for his hand, looked up at him with a gigantic smile, and said, “Are we still having a dinner party with my tea set?” He picked her up once again, “You better believe it!” She hugged his neck so tight, “Daddy, I love you!” Her hands spread wide open, “You are the best daddy in the whole wide world!”

A tear rolled down my cheek. I caught it, not realizing I was crying. The one thing I have craved all my life is to be loved. I never thought in my wildest dreams that a person had to beg to be loved. I guess some of us have to search for it until we find it. I guess the love I want is hiding from me and doesn’t want to be found.

I walked over to sit on the swings. The sun was beaming down through the crowded trees. It is so beautiful! It looked like there was a ray of hope calling my name. I was curious. I walked over, but I noticed the closer I got, the more the sun hid from me. I smiled slightly, walked backward, and said out loud, “Hey, I am used to it.” A squirrel hopped from a bare branch to another branch covered in orange, yellow, red, and brown leaves. I didn’t want to scare the squirrel away, but I tiptoed and walked a tab bit closer because it was so precious to see the squirrel holding a nut. I smiled because the smallest things in life count.

I swung on the swing, thinking about what a life I’ve had. I held on to the rusty steel chain that resembles my life. When I was eight years old, I my mother’s belly growing. I was hoping and praying that Kace would have a fair chance at life. I thought that since she knew she was pregnant, she would stop using drugs. Clearly, I was wrong—it was as if the drugs, men, and sex multiped. I learned a lot by writing and reading. I read once that if a woman is pregnant, it's extremely rare that she cannot get pregnant while being pregnant. However, there is a small window of chance that she could get pregnant. I guess my mom was one of the lucky ones. I believe that is one reason why a boatload of men waited in line outside our home. They were waiting for their turn to put their raw penis into my mother's private area. They knew they didn’t have anything to lose, but they had so much to gain. They wanted to please their selfish needs, not giving a shit that an unborn human was growing in my mother’s womb. I guess they felt like it was an even trade. They must have thought if my mother didn’t give a shit, why should they care? Every day, I am thankful that my brother wasn’t born with an incurable disease. If he had been born with a disease, she wouldn’t have cared. He would have just been another kid, like me, healthy or sick and in the fucking way.

Many days when my mother was out cold, I had to wake her up to feed her. For nine months, I cooked double the food because I knew Kace had to eat in order to survive. I did the best with the things I could control. What I couldn’t control, I would pray about, hoping that there was a ‘God’ up there who gave a fuck. However, time after time, I was disappointed. My mom never went to the doctor to get a check-up. I didn’t know what I was doing, but when my mom was sleeping, I put my hand on her stomach to make sure Kace was alive and moving. I put my ear to her stomach as well. I thought it was pretty cool that Kace knew I was near because he would kick, kick, and kick.

I sat there and wrote Kace a little note:

Dear Kace,

You are a little fighter in there. That’s good; you need to be a fighter in this world. If not, you will be haunted by people's hurtful actions and words that are filled with lies. This world is bitter, scary, and so unfair. Regardless of age, it doesn’t have any mercy for anyone. Everyone is out for themselves here. If something doesn’t belong to them, they will rob you of happiness, faith, hope, and everything after you give them the best you have. Don’t worry. I am not selfish. I will protect you. I cannot wait to meet you! I must say, I am curious. Why did you choose JoAnne to be your mother? Out of all the wonderful mothers in the world, why her? The Universe is made up of multiple and trillions of stars. Why didn’t you stay in the Milky Way? You had the best view up there. You had a front-row seat—I mean, you could see everything! Or are you coming here for me? I need company because I am miserable here. You will be my happiness, and I promise to be your happiness too.

Forever yours,

Ember

Besides writing, I would read and talk to him. I read him my journal, the newspaper, and my school work. I would tell him about my day, and I promised him that I would always take care of him.

When my brother was born, he was an addicted baby. I always wondered, was I a crack baby? My brother cried day and night; he needed crack just as bad as she did. My mom would yell at me. I can hear her now as if it was yesterday, “Ember, what the fuck are you doing? Get your lazy ass up and get your gotdamn baby!” She always called Kace my baby. I never knew why. Plenty of times, my mom would hold Kace, then throw him on the bed, and scream, “Shut up!” I would cover my ears because Kace would be crying and screaming, and my mom would be screaming to the top of her lungs too. Quickly I would run and cradle Kace in my arms. While holding him, I would rock him, talk to him,

and give him cow’s milk, not knowing then that babies needed formula. Somehow, Kace survived.

At the age of nine, I was always tired because I had to wake up to care for Kace at night while my mom was asleep or strung out. The days I went to school, I didn’t learn anything because I was always asleep. They didn’t teach us anything anyway. Everything I learned I either learned from the streets or by myself. I learned the most from my mom—and that was what not to do. Although I slept in class and didn’t learn anything, I had to go to school because that was the only way I could get more milk for Kace. However, my teachers didn’t notice a thing. Well, I’m sure they did, but as I said before, they didn’t care. As long as I had enough milk for Kace, nothing else mattered.

I one rainy winter day when I got home from school; Kace wasn’t in the house. I heard him crying, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Come to find out, five-month-old Kace was in our next-door neighbor’s doghouse, shivering, naked, and cold. I couldn’t believe my eyes because Kace was covered in mud from head to toe. I took Kace home to clean him, but our water was cut off. Thankfully, while the water was on, I had cleaned and gathered up any plastic pails that were scattered around the neighborhood. When I knew the water was off and there was a chance of rain, I would sit them outside. Once they were filled with water, I would cover them and store them in the back of the closet so that I could wash up, and most importantly, have water to drink. My mom was so stoned and fucked up she blamed me for Kace being dirty, and she beat me with an extension cord. My body was in so much pain. I couldn’t bathe, sit down, or go to school for a couple of weeks. However, regardless of how much pain I was in, I took care of my brother.

Thinking about my past is traumatizing. I closed my eyes as I swung on the swing. I smiled and thought about my wildest dreams. I said to myself:

Dear Wildest Dreams,

Although I am trapped in sadness and sorrow, you are one of my favorite thoughts. You give me faith to dream. I imagine I am falling, but you catch me and cover me in your bed of flowers. You smell so sweet. You are so loving. When I think about you, no harm can come to me. You protect me from my quiet thoughts, and if someone tries to hurt me, you will pierce them with your thorns and coil them up in your invasive vines. Dear Wildest Dreams, this moment, right here and right now, is perfect. You are a safe place. I feel so calm when I am in your presence. I am so happy here, please stay. In my wildest dreams, I have a family who cares. We do the simplest things, such as go on family walks while I hold hands with my mom, dad, and Kace. We have dinner at the table, and my parents asked me about my day. I have my own room, and it is beautiful! I have a real bed and many books! I have fresh water to drink. I can soak in the bathtub, play with bubbles, and just relax. I have the perfect simple life. Dear Wildest Dreams, thank you for this moment.

You made my day,

Ember

I opened my eyes, and reality hit me. Well, I cannot complain. I enjoyed having peace, even if it was for a couple of minutes.

Chasing Happiness

I ire the park’s scenery. I bend down to touch the moist grass; I can smell the rain coming. I lie back and look at the clouds. The clouds are effortlessly moving across the sky. The difference between my life and the sky is that the sun will chase the clouds away sooner or later. I can’t help but think that I’ve been chasing happiness all my life, but it keeps running away from me. I am pathetic. I am desperate. The happiness that I want is a happy family. I think I am deserving of it. Life shouldn’t be a multiple-choice exam. However, it is, and it seems like the test I am given isn’t fair—because it has chosen the answers for me.

Happiness Joy Love None of the above

I shouldn’t have to choose; nobody should have to choose. I think life should be ‘All of the above.’ I know I am worthy of the great things life has to offer.

It starts to sprinkle. It never surprises me that my days are always filled with showers of light and heavy rain. I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. The grass smells so fresh, and the air is so crisp my lungs are smiling right now. The little bugs on the ground are preparing to take shelter. I want the rain to pour down on me and wash away the life my mother carelessly made for me. My life has been full of curves. For once, I want to walk in a straight line; that way, at

least I know what is ahead of me. The curves have played with my mind to the point I believe there is no such thing as a two-way street. My life has always consisted of a one-way street. I call it the road less traveled.

I stick out my tongue and taste a couple of sprinkles. It makes me feel alive as it awakens my dark soul. It is hydrating and healing all the flaky and dry skin from every moment of torture I endured. The sprinkles tickle my nose to let me know it is okay to laugh out loud. Wow, I do not the last time I laughed. More sprinkles, and I find myself so tickled. Oh my gosh, this is what it feels like to laugh. Oh wow, it feels so good. I feel my soul shining, and the sun isn’t out.

I turn my head and noticed the grass is hugging me—I hope it holds me hostage because this is the first time in my life that I’ve been comfortable. I whisper to the grass, “I promise if you hold me hostage, I won’t turn you in.” I laugh at my own joke! I can’t believe there is such a thing as laughter. I blink my eyes because I imagine they are covered in tiny little raindrops. After wiping my eyes, I see a meadow of dandelions. I don’t want to move, so I stay put and let the sprinkles play me a tune as they land wherever they may.

After lying in the bed of grass, I noticed it had stopped sprinkling, and the sun was peeking through. I walked over to the fluffy-headed withered dandelions, picked up a few, and made a wish on each one. A little girl with two pigtails walked over and screwed up her face. “Eww, why are you so happy to be playing with those flowers? They are weeds.”

I picked a couple of yellow dandelions. Little does this girl know—it is always raining in my life, and the yellow dandelion is the sun. I turned to her, “If you look closely, you will see the bed of dandelions is a wonderland. They are all different colors and filled with so much magic.” I blew another one. I laughed a little because a couple of the fluffy heads landed on her nose, “See … they are kissing your nose.”

She laughed, “Yes, they are. They are so soft.”

I smiled and handed her one of my dandelions, “Here. Close your eyes and make a wish.”

She closed her eyes and was about to say her wish out loud. I interrupted her and said softly, “No, say it to yourself.”

“Oh, just like I am making a wish after I blow out candles on my birthday cake,” said the little girl, holding the dandelion tightly in her hand.

I nodded my head, “Exactly. Just as if you are blowing out your birthday candles.”

The little girl smiled, closed her eyes, and blew the dandelions—the fluffy heads looked like magic—tiny miracles that would work effortlessly to make her wish come true. She opened her eyes, “Have your wishes come true?”

“Yes. They always come true sooner or later.”

Her smile was so bright. She jumped up and down, “Really?”

“Yes, but only if you believe with all of your heart, but you have to do your part

too. Hard work pays off.”

She took a couple more dandelions, walked away, and turned around, and said, “Thank you.”

I nodded my head, “You’re welcome.”

Come to think of it, I never had a birthday cake. Half of the time, I never knew it was my birthday. At the age of thirteen, I had been to four foster homes. I guess word got around that I was difficult to deal with because nobody wanted me. They said I was too complicated, a trouble maker, and, as many would say, a good-for-nothing bad girl. I had to fight for my life. Every home was a problem. I was either lied about, or I was touched without my permission.

The second shitty home I went to, I was locked in the basement. I knew when the fat old lady would be coming down the stairs. I would see her pale, ashy legs, covered with dark red moles, and she always used to wear the same red nightgown. Her heaviness made it seem like the steps were going to collapse one by one. She had three huge black moles on her face—one of them was near her left eye. She looked very scary. She used to put my food in a doggy bowl. At times, I believed it was dog food. I lost so much weight because I never ate anything that looked like it was blended or in big chunks. I never took a shower or bath. She would put cold water in a pail with a dirty sock floating in it—I guess that was the washcloth. Little did she know I was used to using a pail to wash up, and I never used a washcloth or sock, only my hand. With that being said, I was grateful for the dirty sock. Just like before, I had to drink the water in the pail, or else I would have been dehydrated. The basement was dark. The only light I had was when or if the sun shone in the morning or the moon at night. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. When the social worker came to visit, the lady would dress me up in decent clothes, fix my hair, and I had a decent meal. Well, only because the social worker was coming to dinner. I told the new social worker that I lived in the basement. The lady cleaned the basement, and it was

clean without a trace of any proof of me living there. Need I mention, I was kicked out for lying.

The third home wasn’t any better. I had to share a room with nine kids of different ages. I was the babysitter for five little kids. I had to wash everyone’s clothes, cook whatever was available and wait on the adults hands and foot. The lady of the house was so evil. She used to tell me if I didn’t do what she said, then I would have to sleep on the back porch without any covers, or maybe naked. I was threatened every single day about something. I got beaten if they didn’t like the food, and that was a regular occurrence. Many nights, I slept on the back porch; the concrete was hard and cold. I was grateful to be wearing clothes. However, there were nights when it didn’t matter because it was freezing cold. I really got my ass beat if I bleached their clothes or if they shrunk. I didn’t know how to wash clothes. I read the directions and did the best that I could.

The man of the house always smirked at me. He was sneaky. He used to come into the room at night to ask me if I wanted to him in the shower. I was grateful for the little ones because they would wake up right on time, crying at the top of their lungs for some milk or to be changed. I never got any sleep in that shit hole. I always was on my guard because I never knew what might happen. I told my social worker that I had to earn my keep by watching babies all day and night. I never went to school, and I reminded her that I was underage. I showed her the marks on my back, but that wasn’t enough. I was told once again I was lying, and the marks came from me being in one fight after another at school. The caregiver had her neighbors lie for her to make her case solid. Once again, I was kicked out because of other people's lies.

The fourth home was the worst. The caregiver’s husband touched me in my private area. He always looked like a pervert. He used to look at me while rubbing his chubby belly. He then would point to his private area. I was always on guard, but one day he waited until the house was empty. I never liked being alone with him; I always stayed in the bedroom and locked the door. However,

this time I decided to get my chores out of the way so I could have the rest of the day to myself. As I was vacuuming the floor, I stepped back a couple of times, not knowing he was behind me. “You backing your ass on my dick? I knew you wanted it,” said the man, with an erection in his pants.

My heart was pounding out of my chest. However, I tried to stay calm so that I would not black out, “I am trying to complete my chores.”

He laughed, “Yeah, right. You knew what you were doing, tooting your ass up for me to see.”

He pushed me on the couch and pinned me down. Before I knew it, he put his fingers in my vagina. He whispered in my ear, “Let me help you get ready for me.” He slapped me twice in the face, “Loosen up, young lady. Trust me, you will enjoy it” He put all four of his dirty fingers in my mouth, “You will be begging me for more.” He put his hands around my neck, “This will be our little secret.”

I was fighting and yelling, “No! Please, No!”

He slapped me again, “Shut the fuck up!” He put his hand over my mouth. My eyes widened when I saw him using his other hand to unzip his pants. I picked up a glass vase that was sitting on the living room table and hit him on the head. I ran into the kitchen and pulled out a knife from the drawer.

He snatched the knife from me and yelled, “What the fuck are you going to do with this, huh!”

I kept my eyes on him.

He had sweat dripping from his carrot-orange hair, “It will be my word against yours. Who do you think they will believe?” He grabbed me by my neck, tightened his lips, and said harshly, “Be a good little girl.” He flipped me on the kitchen table, ripped my panties off, and covered my mouth.

I put up a fight and bit his finger. He punched me, “You little bitch!”

I kneed him in his balls. I ran to the door, and the lady of the house opened the door before I turned the knob. Her green eyes widened, “What in the world is going on?” She pointed at me, “You … you … you trashy little bitch!”

I pointed at her husband. I was terrified, scared, and shaking, “Your husband tried to rape me. He did rape me … he … he …put his fingers in my vagina. He … he … tried to insert his penis into my vagina.” I yelled, “Look at him! He tried to …”

She slapped me and yelled, “You liar!”

The next thing I knew, I was packing my clothes in another black trash bag. The lady of the house lied to saved her husband. Each and every time, it was a new social worker. I do not know what happened to Mr. Richardson. The social worker didn’t ask me what happened to my face; the only thing she said was that I needed to stop getting into fights. If I worked on that, then a family would be willing to keep me.

Nobody cared that I was raped. They didn’t care about my bruised face. They only saw what they wanted to see. They believed what they wanted to believe because, after all, I was a nobody to them.

Nobody wanted to take me in. I was treated like I was an enemy of the state. However, I was the one being abused and tortured. I waited in a cold room that looked like a jail cell with bricks that were painted white. I dug through my garbage bag and found a pen and a paper bag.

Dear Tug-of-war,

I lose every time. Why is that when all of the evidence is printed on every inch of my body? My soul wants to be released, but the whips on my back resemble a cage, and it won’t set me free. My face is swollen from the slaps and punches, but once again, nobody noticed. How could they ignore the dried-up traces of blood on my face? Are they fucking blind? No, they are not; they just do not want to see things as they really are—they just don’t care. As always, it is not their shit, nor is it their fucking problem. Every single day is a game of tug-of-war; I have to fight, push, and pull for something. Every single day it is double or nothing. However, I always give it one last try for Kace’s sake. It is like I am on a merry-go-round; it just keeps going in circles, round and round—and another go-round I go. When will I be able to get off?

Today was the worse and scariest day of my life. I had to fight for my innocence. Why do I have to fight all the time when I just want to have peace? Why is it so hard for me to find peace? It shouldn’t be this difficult to find. I was caught in the rough tides of a man’s raging words as he tried to force his penis into something that is rightfully mine. I am not my mother! He wanted to steal my womanhood, something that I will never get

back. I am not my mother! Neither he nor anyone else can take what is mine. I am not my mother! I played tug-of-war with this man who looked me dead in the eyes and told me it would be his word over mine. He wasn’t lying. Nobody believed me, but I believe me. When I think about it, I won. I pulled and pulled and pulled and saved my soul from being rotten. I dug my hands and feet in the sand—the moon controlled the tides. The moon is watching over me. The moon is my protector. I was protected because I am here. I guess I should be grateful. I am breaking. When will enough be enough?

Ember

That night I heard keys rattling and doors slamming. I didn’t know what was going on. I had to my golden rule, and it was that I had to elevate my mind. I couldn’t make room for the thunder that tried to ramble in my head. I had to survive for Kace.

After reminiscing about the many homes I’ve been to, I decided to walk around the park to think about how far I’ve come.

Familiar Place

I sat on a bench at the nearby park. The thought came to mind, Wow, this is a familiar place. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said to myself out loud, “Very familiar—a familiar pain that will follow me all my days.”

I made myself comfortable on the bench as I reflected on the time when I was placed in the group home; I was in agony every second of my life. In deep thought, I looked at the brittle branches from afar. I was wondering, why do they call it a group home? It’s nowhere close to a ‘home.’ Well, how would I know? I never had a home before. However, I know a home should be your security blanket, and it should make you feel at peace, loved, and wanted. The prison they sent me to fucked with my head. Just when I thought I could conquer anything, to my surprise, life threw darts at me once again. Sadly, my mind was the bull’s eye I felt like my life was sucked and pulled out from under me as I struggled to make it through another minute. The darts pierced every nerve in my body, and it was so painful. Every single day the little hope I gained was stolen from me. That place hit me right in the bull's eye because it weakened my core and fucked up my mind to the point that there wasn’t such thing as surviving—more so, wanting to die and get it all over with.

Everyone was like devils with snakes’ eyes trying to coil me up as they tried to suffocate me. Their actions squeezed me until my vision was blurry, and darkness covered my soul. They worked overtime trying to hypnotize me and bury me with their lies. Nobody was to be trusted because everyone was out for themselves.

Every day was harder than the day before. On my 13th birthday, I was jumped

by four girls. I saw it coming. I was the new kid, and I was told by my ‘cell mate’ that the best was yet to come because I had to be initiated. She wrapped her long, jet-black hair into a knot and smiled like she was waiting for it to happen. By her creepy smile, I couldn’t help but think she knew the day and maybe the time.

I was eating my nasty-ass breakfast. Cold, sticky oatmeal, a rotten apple, and nearly spoiled milk. My ‘cell mate’ walked over, put her finger in my face, and said, “Happy Birthday, Amber.”

While putting butter on my bread, I corrected her, “You know my name. It is Ember. With an E not, an A.”

She snatched the bread out of my hand threw it on the floor. My heart was racing, but I was trying not to show it. I then reached for my spoon.

“So, you think you are going to ignore me and eat, bitch?”

I didn’t respond. Another girl, with two maroon-colored braids, slapped the spoon from my hand. I knew I couldn’t sit there and not do anything, but I did. I reached for my milk. A dark-skinned girl who had on a white t-shirt laughed, “Are you about to cry?”

I guess she wanted to get everyone pumped up because tears weren’t forming in my eyes. I scooted my chair back, “Excuse me. May I get by, please?”

A heavyset girl with blond hair yelled in my ear (I thought I wasn’t going to be able to hear for days or never again.) “No, you are not fucking excused!”

I stood there for a quick minute to collect my thoughts, “I am trying to be polite. Excuse me, please.”

“Fuck your politeness (the chubby girl put her two fingers in the air while she was quoting me). We will tell you when you are excused.”

My ‘cell mate’ pushed me. The girl with the white shirt punched me in the face a couple of times. My eyes were so blurry. As I touched my face, I noticed the blood on my hands. I picked up my tray and hit one of the girls with it. I didn’t know who I hit with the tray. All I knew was that I was just aiming for a moving body. I figured if one was down, I’d have three to go, or less of a beating.

The chubby girl knocked the life out of me and laughed, “She got balls!”

I bend over while holding my stomach. I begin to see double or maybe triple. The beating felt like it wasn’t going to end. I fell on the floor, trying to protect my body from every punch and kick. Finally, someone came and saved my life. Two women dragged me along the floor into a white room as if I was an untamed savage. They threw me on the bed and left.

I stayed in the white room for a week. I was given three meals and a gallon of water a day, a notepad, and two black pens. I had my own bathroom, but it was so damn dirty I would rather pee in a pot or a cup instead of that toilet. I used some of the daily gallon of water to take a wash. I begin to think, Ember, you keep getting bounced around so many times; why don’t you just give up? This is

not a way to live. It is not fair that I continue to get the shitty sides on both ends of the stick. I knew I couldn’t afford to think like that. Therefore, I had to keep telling myself I was healing and that I would be getting out of here soon.

A female doctor by the name of Dr. Perry examined me. She walked into my room with a notepad in her hand. She had a blue pen behind her left ear. Her blond hair was barely past her shoulder as she gathered it and put it in a bun with a black pen that she was holding.

She smiled, “Hi, Ember. I am Dr. Perry.”

I didn’t smile back. After all, I’d been through, I did not know who to trust, “Hello.”

She asked me to touch my toes so that she could examine my back. She then asked me to stick out my tongue. Next, she asked me to lay down on the table so she could check my pelvis. She asked me when was my last cycle and if I was a virgin. I refused to answer her questions because, quite frankly, it wasn’t her business.

The way she slid her hand up my thigh was not how a physician examines a patient. I quickly jumped up. I was right; I cannot put anything past anyone. When she walked into the room, I felt comfortable because she was a female. However, little did I know she was deadlier than a male physician. She violated me by touching my breasts. She massaged my nipples with her index finger as she asked me if it tickled or if they were tender. I slapped her hand, “You are sexually molesting me.” Her eyes were still and cold. She whispered, “Yes, I am. But you know what?” Her pupils dilated, “I can tell you I am molesting you because you are a homeless little shit that nobody cares about.” This lady turned into the devil himself. She put her hand in my undies, “Need I say more?”

Tears tried to form in my eyes, but I held them back. Angrily, I grabbed her hand and bent her fingers, “They might not believe me. They don’t have to as long as I believe in myself—that is good enough for me.”

She slapped me, “You little bitch!”

I touched my cheek, “I’ve been called worse.” I started to breathe harder and harder. I stood up and slapped her back. “I am not my mother!” I yelled.

She grabbed my hand tightly, “I know your story. You are the spitting image of your mother, and one day you will be her. You will be a junky, a slut, and a piece of shit like your sorry good-for-nothing mother.”

I spat in her face. She stared at me, “I am going to make sure it is not easy for you in here.” She used her shirt to wipe her face and walked out.

One week turned into two weeks in the white room. I couldn’t help but think they were blaming me for everything, and I know Dr. Perry made it worse. I know she told lies about me. Either way, the way I was treated wasn’t a way to treat a human being. A couple of times a day, I thought of making a rope of my sheets and tying them to the water sprinklers on the ceiling, with the hope they would favor me and hold my weight. I thoughts that if I jumped off the old wooden dresser in the corner of the room, they wouldn’t hear a thing. To be honest, they wouldn’t even care.

I pulled out my notepad and began to write.

Dear Piñata,

If I jumped off the dresser, would I make a sound? As I struggled to breathe, I should just relax and gladly let go. I should not resist because I would be exactly where I belong. I do not understand why I am still here because the darkness has followed me everywhere. Therefore, I will do my life a huge favor and quietly and slowly fade away while I suffocate. I will close my eyes and accept what life has been trying to accomplish. Life doesn’t have to torture me anymore. I am doing the dirty work for it. Life is a coward; it tortures me instead of giving me at least an ounce of peace. Life is not fair, and most definitely, the rules of life are made up and never followed. This time they followed the rules and beat me like a piñata. Instead of candy, my blood was scattered everywhere. Afterward, I was dragged into this room. Just like the piñata, they took everything and threw my bloody body on the bed as if I was a nobody. When they walk in, I will be dangling like a piñata. There will be no such thing as my life swinging from one place to another or here and there anymore. I won't have to fight anymore. I will be free.

Confused,

Ember

I put the pen down. Yes, I would be free. I looked at the sprinklers and the white stained sheets on the bed and thought to myself, but what about Kace?

Deeply absorbed in my thoughts, I came back to reality—and here I am … sitting on a bench thinking of the never-ending uneven path that I am still

traveling down—not knowing where it is going to lead me. I stared at a tree branch and pondered on when I ran away from the 'group home’ because the first day I went back to my room, I was jumped again by the same girls. The owner of the house accused me. She said it was peaceful while I was in the white room, so she figured I was the problem. Once again, I tried to explain. I was my own lawyer, and I represented and tried to defend my innocence, but as always, it fell on deaf ears. They beat me so bad I couldn’t see. My face was swollen, and I believe my nose was fractured. They put me in the white room. I thought about Kace. I wondered what he was doing. I wondered, does he think about and miss me? I hope he is okay. I pushed the dresser against the wall near the window. I was on the third floor. I opened the window, jumped, and didn’t look back.

Many days I walked the streets. There were nights I stayed under the railroad tracks. I ate whatever I could find. Most of the time, I found most of my food in the back alleys where restaurants threw their food in the huge green garbage bins. It was more than enough, and I was full. After eating, I would wash up at the nearby park. Then I would make myself comfortable by sleeping on an unmarked bench.

I snapped out of my deep thoughts. I managed to smile while looking over to see the dandelions dancing to the crisp breeze. I crossed my legs and pulled out another sheet of paper from my pocket.

Dear Familiar Place,

I am lost. I wonder who lives behind my eyes. I guess a lost little child who never grew up. However, I was forced to grow up, but I never had a chance to experience the sweet and playful side of life. I notice that at the moment, it is only me sitting on you—usually, I would have to share you with two or three people. After I leave, you will not be marked until a lonely broken soul will claim you. Just for tonight, they will have something to claim as their own. I wonder who will claim you tonight? I thank you for keeping me

warm the best way you could. I am sure you are one of everyone’s best friends. I bet you have a lot of stories to tell. I am looking at the clouds and wondering how long the cloud will last in my life. I’ve had so many cloudy days; sadly, I forget how the sun looks and feels. My eyes are sensitive to the daylight, but they are immune to the darkness with just the right kind of light from the stars. During the day, my mood is cloudy, uncertain, blurred, depressing, and there is so much fog I can’t see the sun, nor do I have a head's up that the rain is coming. I wish just one day my mood could at least be fair skies. I’ll accept cool and fair skies. I mean, at least for once, could my life be fair instead of constantly feeling anxiety and my soul tied in two knots or more? I retraced my thoughts and noticed the wind was blowing. I smile slightly because the leaves are playing with each other as the breeze shows them some unconditional love. I wonder what unconditional love is? In my world, unconditional love is blowing dandelions in the daytime and hugging the stars during the night. I guess that’s all the love I need.

Wishing for brighter days,

Ember

Cloudless Skies

S trands of my hair begin to blow in my face. Strangely, I noticed it was blowing in the opposite direction in the park. Before putting my hair behind my ear, I got up and followed its lead. I closed my eyes and put my hand in my green jacket. I stood there for a second while I felt the wind compliment my hair. It felt like the wind was blowing sweet kisses and massaging my scalp at the same time. It was such a wonderful feeling.

I walked for about ten minutes and smelled the fresh-cut green grass. A young man was riding a red lawnmower. He smiled and waved. I didn’t smile, but I waved back. I sat under what looked like a ‘grandfather’ tree. It was huge. I had a good laugh because I felt so small. I touched its strong core. I imagined its roots run deep into the earth and spread from state to state. I tried to hug it, but my arm length was extremely short. While sitting under the tree, I looked up, and wow, it seemed like it touched the clouds, and its leaves were helping the clouds to move forward. I leaned on the tree, and for the first time—I felt like I was home.

I put my hands in my jacket and pulled my knees to my chest, iring the landscape. It was so spacious, and because the cold season had caused hibernation, it was quiet, and there was so much love in the wide-open space. It reminded me of Kace—just like the landscape is picture-perfect—so is Kace.

Intensively I was preoccupied with my own thoughts. I’ve begun to think of the time before I was transferred to my second home; my first social worker, Andrew Richardson, kept his word. I was in a zone-out space until a knock on the door changed my life. I heard my baby’s brother’s voice as he knocked on

the door, “Come on, Em, open the door.” I jumped off the couch and ran to the door with open arms. Kace ran into my arms, “Ember. Ember. Ember, I miss you. I miss you so much.”

I looked Kace up and down to make sure he was okay. “I miss you too, Kace.”

“Why are you crying, Em?” said Kace, hugging me tightly.

“Because I miss my picture-perfect Kace.”

He whispered in my ear, “Em, when are we going to go home? The people at the house I stay in do not like me.”

I looked at Mr. Richardson and asked out of curiosity where he had been. He said he was transferred to another case, but he was reassigned to my and Kace’s case last week. He told me not to get used to it because they reassigned cases at any given moment. I nodded my head because I didn’t have much to say. I figured that was the case because, after all, we are nobodies to the system. I asked Mr. Richardson if Kace and I could have time alone. He smiled and nodded his head, yes.

I held on to Kace’s hand. We sat outside on the steps. For the first time in a long time, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I ran my fingers through his hair. I kissed him on his cheek and forehead. I looked at him and asked softly, “What do you mean they do not like you—who?”

“The man and lady. They make me call them Mom and Dad. Their last name is Piercy. They do not feed me, Ember. I am so hungry.” He continued and wiped his eyes, “I am sleepy too, Em. They won’t let me sleep. I am always holding books.”

I rubbed his hair, “Holding books? What do you mean? Why are you holding books?”

“They’re always telling me that I am a bad, bad little boy. I do what they ask me to do.” He put his head down, “I guess I do what they ask me to do wrong. Every night around eight, they would say, “Kace, you know what to do.” I walk over and pick up the heavy books and lift one leg and hold the books.” He looked at me, “Em, they are heavy. Very heavy. If I drop my foot or the books, they hit me with a thick belt.”

I quickly pulled up Kace’s shirt, and he had whip marks and all kinds of scars all over his back. I put my hand over my mouth, “Oh no, Kace.” I hugged him, “I promise I will get you out of there. I promise.”

“When, Em? When?” asked Kace, hugging me as his tears soaked my shirt.

“Soon. I promise.”

He nodded his head and said, “Okay.”

“Kace, do you know the address you are living at?”

“No, but I know the color of the house. It is a light pink color. It has flamingos in the front yard. They have a small red car and a brown van. The name of the school I go to is called Park Street Elementary. It is not near here. It is far. Very far,” said Kace as he tried to talk quickly and quietly.

“Do they touch you in a way that you do not like to be touched? Like in your private area? Do they kiss you or anything?” I asked softly and quickly.

“No, I hold books all night and sleep all day in school.”

I took a deep breath and rubbed his back.

“Ouch, Em, that hurts. My back is still sore.”

I asked Kace to sit on the steps and told him I’d be right back. I ran up the stairs and got his favorite toy. “Close your eyes, picture-perfect, Kace.”

He smiled. Quickly, he closed his eyes with his little fingers.

“Open them!” I said with excitement.

Kace jumped up and down, “My pinwheel! Thank you, Ember!”

He hugged me, “I miss my pinwheel so much!”

I hugged him back and whispered in his ear, “You’re welcome, Kace.” I hugged Kace a little tighter, “Kace, listen carefully to me. If someone tries to touch you, softly scratch their hand, back, arm, or whatever. If you have a safety pin, pen, or anything you can clean under your fingernails, put it in a plastic bag or on a sheet of paper. Make sure you keep the bag and ball up the sheet of paper and put it in your bookbag. Do not throw them away.”

He nodded his head, “Okay.”

I nodded my head, “No matter what happens, make sure you do not forget, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t,” said Kace. He looked at me, “I you told me to do that if Momma’s friends touched me. You said it would be my word over theirs.”

I whispered, “Yep, that’s right. And , I told you not to tell anyone about it. It is only our little secret.”

Kace put his index finger over his little lips and said, “Our little secret.”

While Kace was blowing his pinwheel, I pulled out a sheet of paper, “You want to listen to what I wrote you?”

Kace laid his head on my shoulder, continued blowing his pinwheel, and said, “Yes.”

Dear Kace,

Don’t you know that you are picture perfect! That means you are perfect just the way you are. I want you to know I am always thinking of you every nanosecond, every second, every minute, every hour, and every single day. I promise you that you are not alone. When you feel alone, think of me and your pinwheel. When I come across dandelions, I always make a wish that we will be together again. Be patient; it will happen sooner than later. You are my light when my heart is dim. Kace, I live for you because you are all that I have, and I am all that you have. We only have each other. Stay strong because we will not only see each other again, but we will be together again every day. When you are scared, think of me and know that soon, very soon, you will be with me. When people are treating you unfairly, imagine that we are together in each other’s arms. Kace, if people tell you nobody cares about you—never believe them because I will always love you and care deeply about you. Never doubt my love for you because I am fighting for you every day. Kace, you are the reason why I live. We will be together soon.

I love you to the moon and back,

Ember (your Em)

“Thank you, Em.” He put his pinwheel on his lap, “They told me my sister and my mom do not love me anymore. I didn’t want to get a whipping, so I said okay. I tell them what they want to hear, but I know you will always love me.”

He hugged me, “I know you will always love me, Em.” He looked at me, “I will always love you too,”

Mr. Richardson came outside and sat beside us. I told Kace to play in the yard. I told Mr. Richardson about Kace’s bruises and marks on his back. He said he would take a look and told me he would handle it. I looked at him, “Since you kept your word, I trust that you will.” I smiled slightly told Mr. Richardson, “By the way, thank you.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For keeping your word and letting me see Kace. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded his head, but his facial expression told it all, “Oh, no problem. I had to fight for it. It wasn’t easy, but I knew how much you need your brother and how much he needs you as well.”

He’s right. I needed Kace more than Kace needed me, and I still do need Kace until this day.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts—I didn’t notice that it was raining. I laid under the tree, and the strong branches with their few leaves sheltered me from the rain.

Dear Grandfather Tree,

Are you a tree filled with magic? I’ve been wishing on dandelions, and my wishes have somewhat come true. Mr. Grandfather Tree, are you the director of the wind? Did you direct my strand of hair to lead me to you? Well, here I am! What do you want to know about me? Better yet, I think you know everything about me—I think I should ask, what do you want to tell me? I’m listening.

I am all ears,

Ember

Sad Eyes

I was comfortable under the Grandfather Tree. I was free to close my eyes without watching my back. I felt safe and at ease. I closed my eyes and dreamt about the time when I was a runaway. Those were trying days, but it was better than living in someone’s home knowing you were not welcome. It was most definitely better than living in a group home fighting for my life.

I the first day I walked into the library. I yearned to read a book of some kind. Well, to be honest, I yearn to read books from many creative authors. I was so excited to see thousands and thousands of books stacked to the ceiling! Well, they were not stacked to the ceiling—it just looked as though they were because there were many levels in the library. I thought it was clever how they designed it. I love to read. As I said before, I taught myself how to write and read. I love learning. Sadly, I never had the opportunity to enjoy school, but it was beneficial when I needed more milk for Kace.

The librarian caught me off guard because she was so nice and helpful. I wasn’t used to anyone lending me a helping hand. More so, a slap in the face or cruel words. I walked in a little further with my eyes wide open with so much joy and happiness. I turned around, and books were surrounding me in every direction.

I noticed that people were looking at me. There was a couple of mothers or maybe babysitters who quickly snatched their children up as if they feared me. Some people packed their things while covering their noses. I knew I didn’t smell like a bed of lavender flowers. I had on my little backpack filled with brown paper bags that were left on the streets. I used them to write my journey or simply thoughts for the day. I couldn’t afford writing paper, so I made the best

of what I could put my hands on. I sat in the back of the library because I knew my odor was terribly strong.

The librarian walked over with a smile on her face. She was so gorgeous, and her dark brown hair complemented her skin. Her smile was so pretty. She smelled so good. Her colorful tie-dye dress was so beautiful! I loved the yellow, red, and orange colors on the dress—it had sprinkles of purple, white, and black in the perfect spot. She reminded me of a goddess. Her dress barely touched the floor, her hair was so neatly pinned-up, her shoes were a goldish color, she had on red nail polish and an orange and yellow bead bracelet. Her face was natural without any makeup; however, she had on the right amount of lip gloss. She was so pretty. I didn’t know if I should smile or gather my things and run, “Hi. I know I am not wanted here. I am going to leave.” I look down at my dirty torn-up shoes, “I’m sorry.” I got my things and started to walk towards the door.

I wondered if her smile was painted on her face because after I said all of that, she was still smiling, “You don’t have to leave. I was going to ask you could I help you with something?”

I held my bag tightly, and my expression changed. I was offended by what she said. “Like what? Soap? A comb? Or …”

She cut me off, but she wasn’t rude. Still smiling, “No, that is not what I had in mind. This is a library. It is free to all. I thought maybe you needed help finding a particular book? If not, browse around as you please.”

I didn’t show her any mercy. Still holding my bag and filled with anger, “Why do you care? You are just being nice so I will leave. You don’t care about helping me.” I yelled, “So stop acting like it and stop looking at me like you pity me. I do not need your pity!”

More people begin to gather their children. They looked scared, packed their things, and left. I didn’t mean to make a scene. I was judged enough by the way that I looked and smelled. Pity only added more jabs and insult to how I was feeling and looking. Not to mention, I was tired and beyond exhausted. The only reason why I came to the library was to be left alone. I read that in the library you are supposed to be quiet. I figured if you are supposed to be quiet, then— nobody is supposed to bother you. I guess I was wrong.

An officer walked over. The librarian put her hand up before the officer spoke. She smiled while looking at me, “Everything is okay, Oscar.”

“Are you sure?” asked Oscar looking like he was preparing himself to drag me out of the library.

“I am more than sure. I know she’s a good young lady filled with imagination and ambition.” She nodded her head while still smiling, “We all have our moments of bad days.”

The officer's face turned as if he was about to vomit, “You know, little girl, this is not a place to sleep or wash up … and …”

The librarian quickly interrupted the officer, “We have to be kind and respectful to everyone, Oscar. There’s no need to place judgment. I can handle it from here.”

He nodded his head and brushed his blond hair out of his face with his hand. He

looked me up and down, “Okay, I will be over there if you need me, Lilian.”

She nodded and smiled.

What I said didn’t bother her at all. She was still smiling and stepped a tad bit closer, “Let’s start over. First, I apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe I should have asked you how are you doing after I approached you.” She held her hand out, “My name is Lilian Brown. I am a librarian, and I am willing to help you if you need any assistance.”

I looked at her while I rocked back and forth, and I kept my hands on my backpack. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but my hands were stinky and dirty. I didn’t want to leave my scent on her. I stepped back, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking curious to what I was about to say.

“You heard me. Why are you being nice to me?”

Her smiled widened, “I think kindness is a beautiful thing.”

I walked past her, “Whatever. You think kindness is a beautiful thing.” I rolled my eyes, “Right.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything. I will be sitting over at the information desk.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I brushed my hair back with my hand, nodded my head, and walked to the back where I had been sitting.

I sat in the back alone, pulled out one of my brown paper bags, and started to write.

Dear What’s the Point of it All?

What is the point of being nice? When you do not know what you are going to get from it? Knowing eventually sooner rather than later someone and maybe that person you are being nice to will turn their back on you.

I always have to stay grounded and focused. When I am there for people, I feel like I am always punished for it. I am always treated as if I committed a crime. I was there for my mom; however, she was killing me slowly but surely. Like my mom, I noticed that when people get themselves in some shit, they get stuck in their own mess. They are confident that they do not have to deal with the consequences—because they know the ‘kind’ person will bail them out. What’s the point of being kind? Like my mom and the officer, there are so many people in the world who are judgmental and tainted because of their selfish needs.

What’s the point of my life? Here I am in a library filled with many books. I can read them and go anywhere I want to in my mind, but after I close the book, I will have to snap out of my fantasy world and welcome the cruel cold world, which is reality. If I was a book, I would be better off left on the shelf. There is no excitement in my life—only struggles.

What’s the point of living and loving life when the only thing I do is read between the lines and tread carefully? Come to think about it, I am a book that nobody can understand or read. They think they know what is best for me, but if they only take the time to listen, I would be so happy to tell them about me and my needs and wants. My actions scream for attention, but time after time, I am ignored. Sadly, without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. Yet, once again, nobody noticed me.

What’s the point of it all when I never had an opportunity to make a mistake? If I did one thing wrong, they would give up on me and send me to one home after another. I’ve always been fully exposed and had to walk in a line filled with sharp curves from disappointment to disappointment. Sorrow is my aura, and sadness hugs me tightly. It is hard to cry when my eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence of my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling.

What’s the point of complicating my life? I am always back to where I started, and then … I relive the same patterns, but on a more difficult journey. I believe when you put yourself in your own mess that you should clean it up and start over. What’s wrong with that? Nothing. However, when someone else puts you in their mess, you do not know how to clean up the mess they’ve made. You do not know how to start over because you do not know where to begin. I look at it this way; it is like telling a dead person he/she can start over. How so, when that person’s life no longer exists? I know my life isn’t over. However, I am lost in a maze my mom set up for herself—and she too is lost in her own maze. When a person gets lost in their own maze, they are really fucked up. However, this maze shouldn’t be left for me to figure out. Unfortunately, I am in it, and I have to find my way out one way or another.

What’s the point of taking Kace from me? He was safe and in good hands. Now he is worse off with people who are abusing him. He didn’t ask for this

—I didn’t either. He deserves so much better. Again, what is the point of it all?

What’s the point of making me suffer? Do you get a kick out of it? What are you trying to accomplish? I am trying to understand; what is the point of it all? What is the point?

I don’t know why I am here,

Ember

Ms. Lilian Brown walked over, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

I didn’t look at her, “Yes, I am okay, and no, thanks, I do not need anything. I am writing in my journal.”

She stood over me, looked at my paper bag, nodded her head, and smiled, “I see.” There was a soft touch on my back, “If you do not mind, may you follow me, please?”

“Why?” I asked.

She gently said, “If you like, you can leave your things. I want to show you around the library. I think you might be interested.”

I gathered my things and began to walk. I stopped in my tracks, “How do you know what I am interested in? You do not even know me.”

“You are right.” She put her hands together and closed her eyes for a second, “You are so right. Well, maybe I should say, I would like to show you a couple of things that might interest you,” said Ms. Brown.

She smiled, “If you do not mind me asking, what is your name?”

I folded my arms, “Why do you want to know my name? Do you ask everyone for their names? Or are you trying to be slick and call the police on me?”

She smiled slightly. I guess she was running out of patience, “If I wanted the police to remove you from the premises—as you recall, I would have done so earlier.” She gathered her thoughts and said patiently, “I asked you if you do not mind. If you do mind, then I completely understand.” She put up her hand, “No pressure, you do not have to tell me.” She put her hands on her hips and continued, “Why would I call the police on you? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I quickly said, “No.”

“Okay, well, since that is settled, follow me.” She looked back, “Only if you like. As I just said—no pressure,” says Ms. Brown leading the way.

I didn’t move. She looked back and smiled, “My apology for bothering you. I will leave you be.”

I thought to myself, this lady really cares—but why? What is she getting out of this? A reward of some kind? Or maybe she is just being kind for no reason. Here I am pushing someone away who doesn’t know me—and the first person who ever showed me more than an ounce of kindness. Her kindness scares me. I am not used to anyone being so nice and patient with me. More so, scolding me for no reason. I wonder, what does she want to show me? Maybe the door because it looks like she is headed that way. I am so confused. She wants me to follow her. I can’t. If I follow her for sure, I will stink up the entire library. I am so embarrassed by my odor—and she is acting like she doesn’t smell it. Yeah, she is trying to show me to the door—yup, no doubt about that. I would show myself to the door too. What am I saying? If she wanted me to leave, she would have had me escorted out when she had the opportunity. I do not know how to receive any act of kindness because I am so used to being treated like shit. I guess there’s no harm. What do I have to lose? Getting hurt and tossed on my face is my life, so … why not see what she has to offer. I stuttered, “I … I … I just thought you wanted me out of the library because I stink and …”

“You assumed. You didn’t ask,” says Ms. Brown as she turned around and corrected my assumptions.

I kind of looked ashamed. I smiled slightly, “My name is Ember.”

She smiled, “Ah, I knew behind those sad eyes you had a smile in there somewhere.” She nodded her head and reached for my hand, “What a pretty name. Nice to meet you, Ember.”

I stepped back, “Nice to meet you too, Ms. Lilian Brown.” I held my head down

and said softly, “I do not want to shake your hand. If so, I might leave my scent on your hand, and I know I do not smell the best.”

She reached for my hand to shake, “Like I said, nice to meet you, Ember.”

I smiled and raised my hand, “Nice to meet you too.”

Once again, she led the way. I dragged my dirty, worn, and too-small shoes on the floor. I had to drag them; if not, the soles of my shoes would have come apart. The rubber was coming off, and the holes in my shoes didn’t make it any better. I tried zipping up my jacket because my dingy shirt was filthy from lying on the bench all night. I try to keep my jacket as clean as possible, but that is hard to do at times. I use it as a pillow or a cover for when I am cold at night. My pants, well, they are not too bad, but they smell because—well … they are the only pants I have to wear.

She pointed to the computers, “Here are the computers. After I help you get a library card, you can use your card to use the computers, check out books and DVDs.”

I said with excitement, “Really!” My excitement dimmed, and I looked at my shoes again, “Oh, well. Thanks, but I do not have any money.”

“You do not need any money. All I need is your ID and address.”

My attitude changed, and I yelled, “I knew this was too good to be true! You are

trying to set me up. The police told you they were looking for me.” I fast-paced to the back of the library and threw up my hands, “Does it look like I have an ID or an address to call home.” I stuffed my paper bag in my backpack, “I don’t have anything. Nothing!” I paused, “I am making it the best way I know how.” I said softly, “I am trying to find my way. I just haven’t got there yet.”

I stormed out of the library.

I had to rush to the nearby park before they locked the restrooms so that I could wash up. I was in a rush because I had to stop by the dumpster first to search for my dinner.

Later that evening, I felt like I had lost more than I’d gained. I had to fight a junkie for my damn food. A woman with wild hair and smeared mascara came up to me and snatched my food out of my hand. I put up a fight because I was hungry. She and another lady jumped me for my food. It wasn’t much, just a picked-through chicken sandwich, cold fries that had dried up ketchup on them, and a half-filled cup with a bent straw. It might not have been the ideal dinner, but it was perfect and enough to fill me up for tonight. They wrestled me for my food and took off running.

I didn’t make it to the park on time to wash up because I had to find food to eat. Someone claimed my bench, so I slept on the cold grass, and my backpack was my pillow. I pulled out a brown paper bag and began to write.

Dear Sad Eyes,

I’m sure my eyes look sad from the outside, but nobody knows the pain

behind my eyes. Sad eyes, do you know how to smile? I’m sure you would know if you weren’t so tired all of the time. Sad eyes, do you know how to rest? No, I have to strain my eyes in the dark because who else would watch my back. Sad eyes, there’s no such thing as rest—that is only wishful thinking. A stranger spoke to me today. She noticed me, my smile, and my sad eyes. For once, I didn’t feel invisible. I felt like somebody. Ms. Brown doesn’t know me, but she made me feel special. She made me feel like I mattered. She tried to be nice, but I fucked that up. Sad eyes, you know just as well as I do that anger eats me up alive, and I do not know how to control it. The anger I have for others is destroying me piece by piece. If I let it destroy me, then I won’t be able to kiss the moon, and all of the stars are going to fall from the sky. I won’t be able to dance in the moonlight, and the stars will not be my disco ball. I am so empty inside. I make-believe and imagine the dragonflies have filled my empty arms of darkness with light. Sad eyes, do you think you will be able to rest tonight? I hope so. With the moon, stars, and dragonflies surrounding me with so much light, I feel at peace and protected. Let’s try to rest and try it again tomorrow. After all, it will be another day. Who knows what might happen?

Counting the stars and kissing the moon,

Ember

I awake from my nap and look at the time at the nearby tall brick clock in the park. It is nearly noon. I can’t help but think my aunt wants to scatter my mom’s ashes around the nearby waters near her home. Earlier today, she asked me my thoughts. I told her I think she should put Mom’s ashes in a crack pipe. Then she asked me what I thought of my mom being buried. I looked directly at her and asked her, “Does it matter? Whether she’s cremated or put in the ground, I’m just happy that she isn’t my problem anymore.” Everyone in the room looked at me. It was silent to the point you can hear their hearts beating. I meant every word I said because they didn’t have the slightest idea of all the shit I had to put up with. Only if they knew. Well, in reality, they knew, but they didn’t care. I think

it is pathetic how everyone at my auntie's house are here acting like they give a fuck. Where were all of these people when I needed them? Where were all of these people when Kace was born? Where were all of these people when it mattered? I look up and see strange birds flying in the crisp air. I wonder where they are going? I wish they could take me with them. Wouldn’t it be nice if I had wings? I’m sure my wings would be wounded, but at least I would be able to fly far away from here.

Parachute

I looked up at the sky and lay back on the Grandfather Tree. I begin to think of the day I saw Kace for the second time after they tore us apart. I went to another library. Thankfully, the computer was broken because it didn’t ask me to swipe a library card. People were looking at me. I heard them whispering about the way I looked and smelled. I didn’t have any intention to stay on it for long. I looked up the school he was attending, Park Street Elementary. It wasn’t too far, but it wasn’t down the street either. It was about a forty-five-minute drive and about an hour or so away by bus. I knew I was disturbing the peace because of my disgusting and horrible smell. Therefore, I got the information I needed and left before they kicked me out.

I recited poems on the sidewalk near the bus station to earn some bus fare. I was happy to know that people were really intrigued by my poems. People put business cards, dollar bills, and coins in my bookbag. Some people turned up their noses. I had a few rude comments; most of them were yelling at me to get a real job. I didn’t pay them any mind. My mind was set on my golden rule because I had to get to Kace.

I had more than enough money to go to a thrift store. I bought two long-sleeved shirts, one short sleeved-shirt, three pairs of pants, some socks, undies, a jacket, a bra, a wide-tooth comb, a brush, a toothbrush, and an interesting book! Before catching the bus to see Kace, I had the opportunity to wash up at the train station. I felt fresh and so good! I had a sense of confidence for the first time because people didn’t look at me while covering their noses—or giving me the evil eye. Everyone was focused on themselves, and they didn’t even know that I was homeless. I was smiling the entire time because I looked like a schoolgirl, minding my business with my backpack on my back.

It was the first time that I ever took the bus or the train. It was pretty exciting. I felt like I was on a treasure hunt because I had to read the bus map to find my way to where I was going. That was easy and simple. I had to catch the train, which was super cool! I loved how the train sped so fast through the dim tunnels. I felt like a little kid who was on a field trip for the first time. To be honest, I have never been on a field trip; I just read about them. I had to catch two busses, and it was amazing to see so many pretty homes.

I laid my head on the window as I enjoyed having someone cater to me. I felt like the bus driver was my chauffeur because I didn’t have to lift a finger. In all honesty, I did let him know where I wanted to get dropped off, but other than that, it felt good to look good, smell good, and to be catered to. I think I might sit on the corner and share my poems again. Every penny helps, and I can finally rest my tired feet. I wish I had a one-way ticket for Kace and me to get on a train to head out of state and ride it until the end. I reached in my backpack for some paper and began to write.

Dear Windowpane,

Aren’t you lucky? The sun rays of faith beam on you. How does it feel? Is it enlightenment? Do you feel free, loved, or suffocated? I ire you and envy you at the same time. I ire you because you have the ability to freely open up and let go. I am jealous of you because you have the ability to feel the warm embrace. You get to travel to different places. I know I might be thinking silly, but Windowpane, do you endure a lot of people’s pain? I mean—because many people lean on you, and I am sure you feel their energy, or maybe they tell you their problems. How do you handle all of that? Do you wait for the rain to come; therefore, you can wash off everyone’s problems and create new ones?

It seems like you would be filled with clarity because, after all, everyone can see right through you. With that being said, you do not have anything to hide. What is so amazing about you—is that you remind me of water. I can see right through you, and I can see my reflection too. Now that is pretty cool. However, it is a Catch-22 as well.

Now, I see you do not carry other people’s problems. You let us look at our reflections and go within to seek the answers we are searching for. Aww, you are something else. I want to give you some advice. Although I love your strategy, make sure that the person who is resting their head on you doesn’t quiet their mind too much. If so, their quiet mind might be filled with too much noise. We do not want that. Here’s a little secret, if a person starts thinking too long, then they are thinking wrong. Keep that in mind. Well, I love the scenery, and I enjoyed the talk.

Best of luck to you,

Ember

While putting my note in my backpack, I was distracted by a pink house. I jumped. Oh my gosh, that’s the house! That is the house Kace was telling me about. I quickly reached for the bell to ring it. It wasn’t the stop I was supposed to get off at, but the school cannot be too far.

I thought to myself, Wow! Who would have thought the trees look so fancy on this side of town? I didn’t knock on the door. Instead, I wrote down the address. Since I didn’t have any money to print the map at the library. I pulled out the map I made for myself just in case I got lost. The school is about a ten-minute walk.

I walked up to the school. It was huge! All brick, and I do not know how many windows. It was intimidating. I walked in and asked to check out Kace ‘Piercy.’ The front desk receptionist looked dense. I was on my best behavior, and I talked like I was rich. I was slightly rude—from my experience, people with a lot of money are rude. Not all of them, but most of them. I felt like if I was too nice that would cause a reason to make me look suspicious.

“Kace Piercy,” repeated the lady.

I slightly rolled my eyes, acting like a spoiled rich teen, “Yes, Kace Piercy.”

She looked at me as if she was used to this kind of behavior, “Oh, okay, I see. He is in Ms. Cornerstone's class.”

I put my hand on my hip, “I could have told you that. Do you want me to walk down to his class too?”

She quickly said, “Oh, no. I will call him.”

With a slight attitude, I looked at my fingernails, “Would you hurry up. I have to get my mani and pedi.”

The front desk assistant called for Kace. She smiled, trying to ease my impatience, “I have to get a manicure and pedicure as well.”

I said to myself, see, this is how to get it done. Slight attitude, roll your eyes and act impatient. I played my role, acting like I didn’t care. I stared at her without saying a word. She looked at me and cleared her throat, “He should be up in a minute.”

“I wish he would hurry up.” I looked at my arm, acting as if I was wearing a watch, “I made an appointment to get my hair done at 2 p.m. I am going to be late waiting on him.” As I walked over to take a seat, I continued to play the role of a rich spoiled teen, “I told my parents Kace is not my child. I should not have to check him out of school. That is their job, not mine.”

The lady slightly smiled. I said to myself, I bet she hears this all the time. Her chubby fingers were straightened up the brochures that were on the front counter. Her hair was fireball red and brown. She looked over at me, “Would you like something to drink?”

I rolled my eyes, “No, I would like for Kace to come.” I wanted to say, yes, please. I am thirsty, but I didn’t want to be too nice.

She nodded her head.

Kace had a blue backpack; he was wearing cute little black shoes, a long-sleeved red shirt, and blue jeans. His hair was neatly combed, and he looked so sad. I felt his pain. He didn’t see me. He walked towards the pale lady. Sadly, he said, “Where are my parents?”

She pointed at me, “Your sister is here to pick you up.”

Kace turned his head, and his face lit up like there were a million and one pinwheels in the sky, “Em! Em! Em!” He ran into my arms. I whispered, “Do not call me Ember or Em … I am sneaking you out of here. I have to pretend like I have an attitude … just go along with it.”

He nodded his head.

“What took you so long. Gosh, you get on my nerves! You know I made an appointment to get my hair done!”

“You always get your hair done. And it always looks a mess. Geesh, give me a break,” said Kace, playing his role very well.

The lady tried not to laugh at Kace’s comment.

I pulled his hand, “Whatever, come on, you little brat!”

The lady shook her head, “Children are so disrespectful nowadays.”

I rolled my eyes and walked out the door.

I didn’t know where I was going to go. In reality, I had just kidnapped my little brother, but I couldn’t have him going back to that house and being abused.

Kace looked up at me, “Where are we going?”

“To be honest, I do not know, but I do know you will not go back to that shit hole.” I held his hand while we crossed the street, “I saw the pink house. It looks a mess.” We walked down the street to the bus stop. The bus was about to take off. I picked Kace up, ran, and yelled, “Hold the bus! Please, hold the bus!” The bus driver was kind enough to wait.

The coast was clear, and I knew I wouldn’t look suspicious hugging my little brother, “Come here, dude!” I hugged him so tight, “I miss you so much!”

Kace was crying endless tears, “I miss you, Em! Thank you for saving me.” He hugged me tighter, “I knew you were coming to get me. I knew it. I just knew it.”

The bus driver was looking at us. I tried my best to act normal. Kace pulled up his shirt, “Look, Em.” There were new bruises on Kace’s back. He pulled up his shirt to show me his belly, “My stomach hurts, Em.” He had burn marks on his belly.

“Kace, what did they do to you? Did they burn you with a cigarette?”

He nodded his head, “Is a cigarette white?

“Yes.”

“Then … yeah. Both of them burned me.”

I knew who did it, but I wanted Kace to tell me himself, “Who?”

“The people who asked me to call them Mom and Dad. They do it just because.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I do not know why they hurt me on purpose, Em. They just do.” The tears ran down his face and left tear stains, “Then they laugh while I cry.”

I wanted to go back to that house and kill them. I wanted to let them feel the pain, but I knew it wouldn’t solve the problem.

I felt helpless. I hugged Kace, “Come here. I should have been there.” I cried. My tears were leaving a trail of hurt, sorrow, and grief because I felt like I should have gotten to Kace sooner.

Kace said slowly as his voice cracked, “It is okay, Em, you are here now.”

We rode the bus and train back, holding each other in silence.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew Kace couldn’t sleep on the bench.

Most definitely, I couldn’t give him food out of the garbage. Clearly, I did not think this through, but I also knew that he couldn’t stay there to get beaten or, worse, die. Before getting off the bus, I counted my money. I had enough money to stay in a cheap hotel for two nights, but who would give an underage kid a hotel room? Well, I hope in this case, money talks. I also had enough to get Kace something to eat as well.

I went to this run-down hotel where junkies lived. Come to find out, there were a couple of rooms vacant. “Kace, this is not the ideal place. I live on the streets. I do not have anywhere to go, but I am going to take care of you the best way I know how.” Kace looked scared. I couldn’t risk us staying here.

“I am tired, Em,” said Kace, looking sleepy.

I put Kace on my back, “I know. It’s been a long day.” I walked all the way to our mother’s house. All I could think of was—I hope she is not there.

I’d been walking all night. I didn’t want to hitch-hike because I couldn’t risk losing Kace, and who knows what people would want me to do—or even Kace. People are sick nowadays. My feet ached, but I was only two blocks away.

I walked up to the house, and memories hit me as if lightning had struck my chest. I did not want to be here, but we had nowhere else to go. Thank goodness it was abandoned. I walked in, and it looked the same. Everything was torn up. The wood cabinets were open, and rats were all over the floor. I walked into Kace’s and my old room. It was hard to see because it was getting dark outside. I laid Kace down in the tub. I cleaned our room and made us a pallet, making it comfortable the best way I knew how. I made a little fire from a wood chip and put it in a glass bowl. There were beans and rice in the cabinets, so I made us something really quick to eat by making a bigger fire with the wood from

outside to warm up the food. However, I made sure I was careful because I didn’t want anyone to know we were there.

I fed Kace, and he asked me could I write a little note and read it out loud like I used to do? I smiled and said, sure.

Dear Parachute,

You remind me of a pinwheel. Are you a pinwheel sister, brother, or long distant cousin? Maybe you are a pinwheel's mother because you are bigger, lightweight, but you are stronger. Oh, no, wait! Are you a part of the dandelion’s family as well? I see you resemble them, and you have a lot of similarities. I know I am being silly, but sometimes it is okay to be silly, right? Parachute, will you catch Kace and me when we fall? I believe you will. More importantly, can you be our wings so we can fly far away from here? We want to be able to freefall without worrying about how hard we are going to land. Well, with you by our side, we know we will land safely. I wish Mr. and Mrs. Parachute that you will expand our life. You are capable because when you are open, you compliment the wind with your delicate transitions. Don’t drift apart from us. We need you. May you please be our umbrella and protect us from the storm? You are a part of wondrous things. I know that if you help make our wish come true, our life would be wonderful as well!

We are patiently waiting,

Ember and Kace

Kace was tickled, and he slept through the night under me, and I stayed up to keep an eye out for predators.

I nursed Kace's bruises. We survived there for a week until I guess everyone caught on that we might be at my mom’s old place. Mr. Richardson made sure that I wasn’t charged with a crime. He knew that Kace was in danger. He saw the fresh, though healing burns and bruises on Kace’s back and tummy. I begged Mr. Richardson to not let Kace go back there.

I was put in another home. However, I didn’t know where Kace was going. Mr. Richardson told me that Kace would be in a good home, and he would make sure of it. I trusted his word—well, to be honest, I didn’t have a choice.

As I was captured in my own thoughts, I must say that the Grandfather Tree is a good listener. I can’t help but think that it already knows my story. I made myself comfortable while the wind was playing with my hair, massaging my scalp, and making me feel at ease. I smiled and said thank you because it is well overdue.

Bed of Dandelions

A s I made myself at home under the Grandfather Tree, I felt comfortable and safe. My smile grew wider as I thought of the time when I saw Kace for the third time. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in forever and a day. However, it was only about two weeks. Kace has gotten so big! He looked at peace, and I knew then that he was in a place where he felt wanted by someone. I was placed back at the first house with the lady who loved Jesus so much. The same girls were there, but we didn’t talk to each other. It was like they were under her spell. They reminded me of ghosts walking around lifeless. Maybe they had given up hope and decided to call it for what it is. I couldn’t afford to think like that. That lady didn’t have a Jesus bone in her body that was filled with love—only hate.

Kace and I were so happy to see each other!

Kace ran into my arms, “Guess what, Em?”

“What?” I asked, trying to pick him up.

“Mr. Andrew put me in another home. I have two sisters and one brother.” Sadness was in his eyes, “My sisters and brother are just like me—their mom didn’t love them either.” With excitement, “Oh, Em, and guess what else?”

“What?” I was hurt because I am Kace’s one and only sister, but I didn’t show it.

“You have to guess,” says Kace with a huge smile on his face.

“Um. Let me guess.” I tickled him, “You are growing an extra ear?”

He laughed so hard, “No, silly, Em. I have a dog named Jasper and a cat named Pammie!”

I managed to put Kace on my hip, “That’s cool, dude!” I said as calmly and pleasantly as I possibly could, “Kace, I am your only sister. You do not have any brothers. There is only you and me.”

He looked sad, “Okay, Em.”

I placed him on his feet, bend down to his level, and looked him in the eyes, “Don’t be sad. If they make you say you have a brother and sisters, just go along with it. That way, living under their roof will be simple and easy for you.” I ran my fingers through Kace’s hair, “, I am your one and only sister.”

Kace hugged me, “I know, Ember. I know. I only have one sister, and it is you, Em.” He whispered in my ear, “They are good to me.” He continued to whisper while rubbing his tummy, “They feed me.” He ironed out his clothes with his hands, “I always have on clean clothes.” A gigantic smile appeared on his face, “I do not hold books all day.”

I was so happy for Kace. I fix his dark blue shirt, and I tucked it in his blue

jeans, “You know I have to ask.”

He nodded his head.

“Do they touch you in a bad way?”

He whispered in my ear, “No. My new mommy makes me take a bath, and I am always super clean!”

“New mom?” I asked, controlling my facial expression.

“Yeah, Em, my new mommy. She is so nice. She hugs me all the time. She cooks the best food I ever tasted. I sleep in a bed.” He jumped up and down, “I have my own bed, Em. I am always so warm at night.” His eyes lit up, “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked, smiling because I was so happy for Kace.

“I am not going to make you guess this time, but I have a night light in my room?”

His excitement brought tears to my eyes, “That’s super cool! A nightlight!”

He nodded his head quickly, “Yeah, a night light. My room looks like it has …”

he opened his arms wide, “A trillion stars on the ceiling.” He was so happy, “The moon smiles at me at night, and I feel safe knowing I can sleep tight.” He couldn’t control his excitement. He continued, “Guess what, Em?”

I giggled, “What?”

“And I have a Cars nightlight too …” He nodded his head. Smiling, “Lightning McQueen.” He was talking so fast, “I have a Cars blanket and a Lightning McQueen red bed!”

“That is super cool, buddy!”

“Yes, it is … and guess what else, Em?”

I tried to guess, but he is in such a rush. “I have a Lightning McQueen cup, plate, fork, spoon, and a Cars toothbrush.”

He was so happy when he said, “Oh, look, Em!” He held out his foot, “I even have on Cars shoes!” He jumped up and down, “It is super cool!”

I hugged Kace, “I am so happy you are in a good home.”

He hugged me back, “Soon, Em, you will be in a good home, and we will be together forever.”

I agreed as I nodded my head, “Yes, we will.”

“Wait, Em, I have something for you!” He put his little fingers in his pocket. As he was digging in his pants pocket, he pulled out a dandelion. “Oh, no, Em, we cannot make a wish.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kace.” I opened my backpack, “Close your eyes.” He put his tiny fingers over his eyes. I tickled him, “I see you peeking.”

He laughed, “No, I am not!”

“Look!” I said as I held the dandelion in my hand.

Looking in disbelief, “Wow, it is so pretty!” his eyebrows arched out of curiosity, “How did you not crush it, Em?”

I pointed to his navel, “I picked it today. I was gentle with it, just like I am with you. I took care of it just like when I took care of you.”

He smiled, “Let’s blow the puffball and make a wish together.”

We held hands, closed our eyes, blew the dandelion, and made a wish.

Kace put his finger over his mouth and whispered, “Em, we cannot tell our wish until it comes true.”

I nodded my head, “Deal!”

Kace pulled his pinky finger towards me, “Pinky-promise?”

“I pinky-promise.”

Our visiting hours were up. Within those few seconds, my joy disappeared. I watched Kace open the back door. “Oh!” said Kace, hopping in and then quickly hopping out of the car, “I have something for you, Em. Close your eyes, Em, and do not peak.”

Within that moment, I felt joy all over again. I closed my eyes tight.

“Hold out your hand, Em.”

I held out my hand. Kace put something in my hand. I hadn’t the slightest clue as to what it could be.

His voice was filled with laughter, “Now open your eyes!”

I opened my eyes to see Kace jumping up and down and giggling, “Now you have one too!”

It was a pinwheel. I couldn’t control my tears. A couple of my tears landed on the pinwheel, and it started to spin slightly.

“When it spins around, that is a sign of hope,” said Kace.

“Really? Who told you that?”

“My new mommy. I showed her the pinwheel you got me, and she put it in a picture frame. She said she didn’t want me to lose it. She said it is a keepsake.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know what that is.”

“That was very thoughtful of her. A keepsake is something that you cherish and keep forever.”

“Oh, well. That is what I told her. I told her I want to keep the pinwheel you gave me forever and ever.” He paused, “One day, she came home with a frame. She let me decorate it, and we put it on the wall in my super-cool room. She noticed that I would look at it all the time because I was sad that I couldn’t play with it. Then one day, she came home with two of them! She said one was for you and one was for me. My new mommy said, the next time I see you give it to you. She packed it in my lunch bag.”

“That was nice of her. Your lunch bag?” I asked.

“Yep!”

I walked with him to the car. He had extra clean clothes in his backpack. They smelled so good. He had a lunchbox filled with food. I was happy he was being treated with love.

“Oh, Em, here.” Kace pulled out a neat brown paper bag. I have never seen a brown paper bag wrinkle-free. “My new mommy made you lunch too! She asked me to give it to you.”

I said with excitement, “Really!” That was so kind of her.

“Yeah, she said, Kace.” He smiled and pointed to himself, “That’s me.”

I tickled him again, “I know Kace is you, silly.”

He laughed, “My new mommy said, Kace make sure you give Ember her lunch and pinwheel.” He shook his finger, “She tapped my nose with her finger and said, don’t you forget.”

“See, Ember, I didn’t forget!”

I hugged Kace, “Nope, you did not forget! Thank you for the pinwheel!”

“Do you have a sheet of paper?” I asked Kace.

He was digging through his backpack, “Let me see.” He looked up, “Yep, here you go, Ember.”

I thought to myself, I do not the last time I saw a sheet of paper. I rubbed it slowly like it was gold. I asked Mr. Richardson could I have a moment to write Kace's caregiver a thank you note.

He said yes, but his facial expression told it all.

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, Mr. Richardson, I know how to read and write. I am not dumb. I might be poor, but I am not an ignorant fool.” I looked at Mr. Richardson as I pulled a pen out of my back pocket, “I taught myself everything I know.”

Kace shook his head, “Yep, that is true. Ember taught me how to read and write. Ember took care of me and taught me everything I know.”

“I didn’t say anything, Ember,” said Mr. Richardson.

I rolled my eyes, “You didn’t have to. Your facial expression and body language told it all.”

I sat on a piece of wood and began to write.

Dear Kace’s Caregiver,

Thank you for being so kind to my brother. He really likes you. To be honest, I like you too because you’ve made him happy. His last home wasn’t too friendly, and he was mistreated. They had him holding heavy books, and he wasn’t fed or clothed. Thank you for my lunch and pinwheel. I really love it. Kace told me you framed the pinwheel that I gave him as a keepsake. Thank you. I really appreciate it. Dandelions and pinwheels give us peace and hope. The sky has fallen on Kace and me so many times, and I am so happy to know and see that Kace doesn’t have a cloud in his skies. There have been many broken bridges Kace and I had to travel; however, I am filled with joy knowing that Kace’s bridge is being repaired with so much love, happiness, and peace. And most importantly, laughter. Many days, my heart was covered with bare wires. However, today Kace’s excitement from having a full tummy, clean clothes, and everything he loves about his Cars collections have made some of the bare wires on my heart become rusty and fall apart. All I want is for my Kace to be happy. I want him to live a life that a child is supposed to know. I do not want him to be made to grow up too fast as I did. I want him to be able to rest when he's supposed to and enjoy what life has to offer. Thank you for bringing joy into Kace’s life. I truly appreciate it.

Happy to know that Kace’s is in good hands,

Ember

After being engrossed in my thoughts for quite some time, I took a lingering and well-needed deep breath. Lying under the Grandfather Tree is peaceful. I am enjoying the cool, crisp breeze. It is nurturing to my soul. My lungs are enjoying every breath as I inhale and exhale. I look over and smile at the bed of dandelions. I ire how the wind has picked them apart as the puffballs flow freely in the air without a care. They didn’t allow the wind to interrupt their peace—they decided to gradually let go. Since I am in a peaceful state of mind, I decided to write.

Dear Dandelions,

I am part of you. Adults hate you all when you spread in their garden beds or manicured lawns, but in my eyes, you all are beautiful. Just like you, I’ve been through many stages in my life. Many people have come and gone, but you all have always been here. I do not know if you know, but your milky white puffballs have been my umbrella through trying times. When it rains in life, I always find myself making a wish on a dandelion. When I feel like things are way over my head, you all have been my parachute, and I might not land softy, but I always land steadily. I might not always know my future, but after I make a wish on the dandelion's furry sphere that resembles a white globe, I have hope that my future will be filled with peace and joy. The one thing I crave in life is peace. For once, while I lie under the tree filled with so much wisdom, I have finally found a measure of peace. It is an amazing feeling. I wonder what peace feels like? I will continue to wait. I’ve waited this long. Until then, I am willing to accept knowing what a portion of this peace feels like.

Waiting for the seeds to emerge in my life,

Ember

I closed my eyes once again and breathed in the fresh air. I felt the wind blowing my hair in my face. I giggled because it tickled my nose. After I exhaled, I opened my eyes, and to my surprise, the wind was blowing the fluffy dandelion seeds everywhere. I ran up to the dandelions, spread my arms, and danced in the bed of dandelions. I made one and a million wishes, and I thought to myself with my eyes closed, this is what the beginning of peace feels like.

Hour glass

T he hour hand is moving slowly, and I am forever grateful for it. I do not want to go back to my Aunt Donna’s house. Quite frankly, I do not know why I am here … well, I am here for Kace. Everything I do—I do it for Kace.

After dancing in the bed of dandelions, I found myself walking as I tried to stall for time. I when I didn’t stay at the lady’s house (who was so desperately in love with Jesus) long enough to make myself comfortable—she didn’t want to be bothered with me. She told Mr. Richardson I was a headache because she never knew what I was writing in on my paper bags. She lied and told him that I was planning to set the house on fire at night. Now, why would I do that? I was put in another home. This home was beautiful! However, looks are deceiving—and that is a fact! The couple looked like they had it all together. Until the second day, after which I was reminded for my entire stay that they did not receive enough money for me. I was limited to what I could eat until food wasn’t an option anymore. I went to school, but I was put in a class for the students who were behind—all because I was in a home. I dealt with their shit as long as I could. It got to the point the only time I ate a meal was when I was in school. They would eat in my face and then tell me to clean the dishes. I was starving. Not to mention, I was thirsty too. They assigned me a 4-ounce glass cup. I was only allowed to use the glass three times a day. They followed me around their home as if I was a thief. The weekends were the worst—because I didn’t eat on Saturdays or Sundays. I wasn’t going to sign up for this shit again … so I ran away.

I laid under the Grandfather tree. My mind began to wonder when I got caught from being a stray on the street. Well, I do not think I got caught. I believe the hourglass just ran out of sand, and someone turned it over for it to start again. That day, I went to the library. I got used to going to the library and staying there

for hours. Most days, I got there when it opened, and I left when it closed. I believe Ms. Lilian Brown was curious as to why I wasn’t in school. I grew to like Ms. Lilian Brown until she was the person who turned my hourglass upside down. My life of misery started over again because of her.

I begin to think of the first time when I had a peaceful night's rest. Just as always, it was a cloudy day. The day before was a horrible storm. I had to find somewhere to sleep. I knew I was tresing, but I stayed in someone's barn. It was kind of cozy. I wish I would have thought of that weeks and weeks ago while I was on the streets, but everything happens for a reason. The moon showed up right on time. I followed the moon as it went in and out of the cloudy skies. I kind of had fun—I pretended that we were playing peek-a-boo. Through the ins and out of the clouds, it led me to the red and white barn. At first, I was so scared to go in because I didn’t want to get in trouble, but I took a chance. That’s all I do is take chances in life. So, hey, why not at that point.

When I walked into the barn, it was a storage room. It had blankets, food, and clothes neatly stacked in cute little colorful storage boxes. I saw an air mattress leaning against the wall. The first thought that came to my mind was—I am going to sleep good tonight!

I tried to stay as quiet as possible. The light that was behind the barn was perfect. I wondered, though, why would they put floodlights behind the barn instead of in front of it? I dried my hair and body off with a towel stacked on top of one of the blue storage bins. I changed out of my dirty, stinky clothes and put on some dry ones. The black sweater and blue-jean overall were pretty big, but it was better than them being too little. I put on some fresh, clean socks. I was lucky because the socks I had on were beyond soaked. I looked over to my left, and there was a white pillow. It didn’t have a pillowcase, but I didn’t care. It was better than lying my head on a bare bench or concrete. The melody from the rain was serenity. I pulled out a small piece of brown paper and wrote a letter to the moon.

Dear Moon,

Thank you for guiding me to find shelter. It has everything I need. I enjoyed playing peek-a-boo with you. To be honest, that was the most fun I had in a long time. The blankets are so cozy and warm. I know you are hugging and telling me all is well. The thunder and lightning are kind of scary—are you telling me something? Giving me a sign? If so, what is it? Should I prepare myself? Dear Moon, I am lonely, but I know you and the stars are my company. I never had a pillow. This is the first time I know what a pillow feels like. My head is loving it! Thank you. For the first time, I am not lost in my mind. Usually, I am lost in my mind because of uncertainties from not knowing what the next nanosecond will hold. However, I do what I do best. I keep it moving, hoping and wishing for better days. I am experiencing a lot of firsts tonight. Tonight is the first time I do not feel like I am in prison. Every day since I’ve been born, or maybe I should say ever since I can , I’ve had such a heaviness in my mind and body from walking on a thin thread—trying to figure out … life. Tonight, I can silence my mind. I do not know where I am going to fit into this world. I guess that is okay. The only thing I can do is take it day by day and see what happens.

Tonight, I can finally rest,

Ember

I rested better than ever. I found myself standing still, waiting for the last grain of sand in the hourglass to make its final landing. I wouldn’t think a grain of sand could change my life, but it did because my time ran out for that particular season.

I felt amazing walking into the library. I sat in my favorite spot in the back as I

put my backpack on the table. Ms. Brown walked over.

“Good morning, Ember!” she said with so much excitement in her voice.

I returned the favor, “Good morning, Ms. Brown!”

“Yesterday after you left, we received a document on the fax machine.”

I slowly reached for my things because I knew what was about to happen. I shook my head no, and I said no over and over again.

“Ember, do not assume the worst. We are here to help you.”

“No, I cannot and will not go back to hell! Please!” I begged Ms. Brown, “Please … please … I do not want to go back to anyone’s home.” I broke down and cried, “I ran away because I was locked in a room at the first home. I was locked in a basement at the other home, and the ones that follow I was raped, jumped and starved to death. Please, do not let them lie to you. I just …” I rocked back and forth. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know whether to run left or right, “Please listen to me. I will kill myself if I go back. I wouldn’t have a purpose or reason for living … I can’t ...”

“Ember, listen to me. They are going to make sure you …”

I wasn’t trying to listen to what she was saying. I ran to the nearest door, and two

officers caught me. I was angry—and that changed my life forever.

I put up a fight, but then I asked myself why? I was tired. I lay down on the bare ground thinking of ways to kill myself.

I was moved from home to home. Nobody wanted me because I gave them hell everywhere they placed me.

At the first home, I started fights on purpose because I knew I was going to get kicked out. I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t have anything to lose. Two twin girls thought they were going to bully me. Both of them were black. I guess they thought I was scared of them. They failed to realize my life was bitter, cutthroat, and fucking sour. I have never been spared grace or mercy. I knew my life purpose was for me to be in pain every second of my life. So why should I give a fuck and be nice? Fuck kindness. If I wanted to make it in this world, I knew I had to change my attitude to “I don’t give a shit about me or you.” One of the girls was heavier than her sister. She walked over and pulled my hair, “Hey, little white bitch.”

The other twin, who was much slimmer, laughed, “Yeah, I know you are scared.”

I didn’t have any fear. I spit in both of their faces, and while they were wiping their faces, I got the scissors that were lying on the table and cut them with it. The caregiver came into the room and yelled for help. They tackled me down to the floor. I yelled, “Get the fuck off of me!”

Mr. Richardson put me in another home.

The second home. The caregiver's boyfriend tried to touch me on my breast. I got a knife and told him I would cut his dick off in his sleep if he tried to touch me again. He thought I was playing. One night he came into my room and got in my bed. He pushed me on the floor, pulled his pants down, and commanded me to suck his dick while he sat on the bed.

Trying to stay quiet, he whispered, “Get on your knees, bitch.”

He pulled me up by my hair. I didn’t reach for my hair. I reached for the razor blade that I sleep with that was in my pants. I never slept with PJs because they were never secured. I felt like wearing PJs was for people who had a place to call ‘home.’ I never had a place to call ‘home,’ so pants it is.

While he was whispering, he didn’t know that he would make a scene for the whole house to see and hear.

While I was on my knees and he was pulling my hair, I pulled out my razor blade and cut his dick.

He screamed loudly because he was in a lot of pain. I made sure that it was a deep cut and that he would feel it for days. Everyone ran into the room and found him holding his bloody penis. I told them what happened. This time, the caregiver wasn’t dense. She believed me, but she wanted me out of her home. That was fine with me. I was happy she called the cops and Mr. Richardson.

In a short time, I was placed in five homes. They never ended well. I was never

on my best behavior. The sand in the hourglass ed as well as the months.

The last home I was at before I was put into Juvie, I got arrested. I beat a girl up so badly to the point she couldn’t see, her nose was broken, and I cut her face with a broken plate. I had to defend myself. I didn’t show her any mercy. Not to mention, she deserved it. It wasn’t my fault. As always, they tried to jump me, and I wasn’t going to be anyone’s punching bag. My mentality is—it is best to get them first before they get you.

The next stop was Juvie. That place looked like death was waiting at the front door. As a matter of fact, I was greeted by death, and every single day, death tried to take my life. My anxiety levels were at an all-time high, but I never showed it. The officers were not friendly. There was no color in that place. It was grey and white, and there wasn’t anything in between. It was a battlefield, and there was a war every minute of the hour. If I never had tough skin, Juvenile made me grow tougher skin. I had my share of fights. I won some, and I lost many, but people knew I wasn’t a doormat.

Mr. Richardson came to visit because he had to since he was my caseworker. Other than that, I don’t think he would have given a shit. I declined his visits because I didn’t need his pity; after all, he knew the homes he put me in were fucked up.

The hourglass presented itself again. After six months of being in Juvie, Mr. Richardson paid me a visit. He had gained a little weight, “You must be eating well.” I said, looking at him like, what the fuck are you doing here?

He pulled up a chair, “I am eating enough.”

“Gotta be better than the nasty shit they give us in here.”

He looked disappointed. He sat back in his chair, “What has gotten into you?”

I sat back in my chair as well, “What has gotten into me? Let me see. You. This bullshit ass system. None of y’all motherfuckers don’t care. You are here just to get a fucking check.” I crossed my arms, “I wonder how do you all sleep at night?” I shrugged my shoulders, “Well, it looks like to me that you are eating and sleeping well.” I rolled my eyes, “That shows me that you do not give a shit.” I stared at the wall, “I am in this shitty place fighting for my life every day.” I looked at him with disgust on my face, “You asked me what has gotten into me. That’s a good-ass question. Being nice and kind didn’t get me anywhere. You all believed all of the lies that were told about me. I was always respectful. I guess this is the definition of a good girl gone bad.”

His face was unreadable, “Is that right? I have been fighting my ass off trying to … you know what? Never mind.” He pulled his chair up, “If you do not get yourself together, you will never see Kace.”

I laughed, “Wow, now you are threatening me. It never fails. If it is not the way you all want it to go, you threaten me by moving me from one shitty home to a home that molested me.” I threw my hands up, “You act like I give a fuck. It can’t get any worse than this. I am at the bottom of the pool.” I didn’t blink. I curled my lip and said, “I can’t get any lower.”

He looked me in my eyes, “Did you hear me, Ember? You will not see Kace.”

I folded my hands, “So.”

“So,” said Mr. Richardson, nodding his head. He stared at me for a short second and said slowly, “If you, Ember, keep getting into fights. You will not see him again, ever.”

“Like I said, so,” I said, pushing my chair back, about to stand up and leave. I repeated myself, “So, I do not care.” I yelled, “Why do you give a fuck! You never gave a shit, so why do you care now? You all snatched him from me.” I threw my hands in the air, “He is in a good place.”

The look he gave me didn’t sit well with me. “No, Kace was removed from the home three months ago.”

“What?” My gesture changed.

“Yes, three months ago because his caregiver got sick. She has cancer, and she couldn’t care for the children anymore.”

“Wait. What! Where is he?”

“I can’t tell you. I’ve been watching and keeping an eye on him.” He continued, “More often than usual.”

“Why? Is he in a caregiver’s home who doesn’t give a fuck?”

“I wouldn’t say that. He is just in a different home than before.”

I stared at him without words. I scooted my chair back and began to walk to the door.

“Ember.”

I turned around, “I have something to give you. It is from Ms. Lilian Brown.”

I yelled, “I don’t want anything from her! She is the reason why I am here!”

He didn’t argue with me. He just stood there. I walked back to my room with Kace on my mind. One of the new officers showed me a little grace. She always brought me some paper bags to write on. I laid on my bed and began to write.

Dear Hourglass,

Months ago, you were turned upside down. I do not know why. All I know is that my life was going well on the streets. I can’t believe I am asking for your help, but I need it. I have to learn how to manage my time here in a reasonable, educational, and positive way. I need ‘time’ to keep me busy so that I can stay out of trouble. I gave up on life because I thought Kace was in a good home. I didn’t think I would see him again, so I decided to focus on myself. I was always kind to others because I knew that was the key to seeing Kace. I am now a different person—a person I do not recognize. I am going to work on myself for Kace and then myself. I’ve lost myself again—

am I able to be found?

I haven’t seen the moon in months. I guess that is why I’ve been fighting the tides. There’s no way I can humble the tides in my mind without the moon. Where is the moon? It is supposed to balance the tides and my emotions. I guess that is why I am drowning. Hourglass, are the grains of sand all in the other end? Tell me, has my time run out to change? May you give me another chance? My heart is in chains. Can the stars untangle the chains that are suffocating it? Or have the stars forgotten all about me too? I hope not. I need the moon and the stars to help me get through the rough tides and unpredictable currents.

Everything is closing in,

Ember

That night when I fell asleep, I had a bad dream. The sky was falling down, and the moon disappeared. The stars fell into the ocean, and the ocean had a lot of smoke coming from it because the water put the stars' light out. I found myself talking in my sleep, begging the moon not to give up on me. I am willing to turn my life around if the moon and stars give me another chance.

Time ed, and I enrolled myself in classes to work towards my high school diploma. At that time, I was 14 years old. I kept in with Mr. Richardson. He was shocked that I was so young and working on my high school diploma. I wasn’t shocked! Before enrolling myself in my classes, I had to take more than a handful of placement exams. Come to find out, I am on a 12th-grade level.

I was focused on my studies because I wanted to graduate before getting out of Juvie. I kept my promise to the moon and the stars and stayed out of trouble. I volunteered as a tutor, and I kept myself busy by either staying in the library— keeping my head in the books, and tutoring people my age or younger. I also completed my chores in the kitchen and my laundry duties. I didn’t have time to fight. Well, they knew not to mess with me because I earned my respect here. Most importantly, they knew I wouldn’t help them with their school-work if they fucked with me. Things were looking up for me. I knew it was because the moon and the stars were proud of me. I was grateful they didn’t give up on me.

Months ed, and the hourglass kept its word. I was still in Juvie. However, Mr. Richardson persuaded Kace’s caregivers to bring Kace to visit me. I meet his caregivers before they let Kace visit. They both were Caucasian and looked very sophisticated. Ms. Hampton was slim with hazel eyes. I noticed she talked with a southern accent. Mr. Hampton was slim as well. He must have been under a lot of stress when he was younger because he had a huge bald spot in the middle of his head. He had a gap in between his bottom teeth. There was one thing about him that concerned me. He talked with his legs crossed with one hand on this knee while the other one rested on the hand that rested on his knee. Maybe I am overthinking it. He came off as a narcissist because he thought he knew everything, and he talked about himself the entire time. He always cut his wife off to tell her not to do or say something, but he would think it was okay for him to say or do it. It was like he felt he was entitled to something that he didn’t earn. Other than that, they seemed nice but strict. I thought it was pretty cool when they told me that they heard about the famous Ember.

They visited me more than a couple of times to get to know me before I saw Kace. I didn’t mind because I respected that they wanted to get to know me. I thought that was very kind of them. We got to know each other. I learned by watching and listening that Mrs. Hampton was a teacher, and her favorite color was purple. She never wore pants—she was always in a long dress. I noticed when she was around her husband that she knew her place. She told me that Kace is very smart for his age. They wanted to skip him a grade or two, but instead, they decided to put him in the gifted program. It made me feel good to know that Kace spoke highly of me—he told them that I taught him how to write

and read.

Mr. Hampton was the manager of the city Watershed. He always wore khaki pants and some kind of polo shirt. He had many watches—every time they visited, he had on a different watch. I realized who took up most of the closet space, the bathroom, and the mirror because he was always groomed from head to toe. I also noticed that they did a lot of research on me because it seemed like they knew more about my life than I did. Overall, they were decent people. We had many laughs and serious talks. I let them know that I was grateful that they took the time to get to know me.

Weeks later, Kace came to visit me. I was so happy to see him. Before walking into the visiting room, I looked at Kace through the glass. He had gotten so big! Wow, I couldn’t believe my eyes. His eyes were as blue as ever. I could get lost in them. His once tiny fingers have grown, and he looked so healthy. He was dressed in a light pink well-pressed polo shirt, khaki pants, and penny loafers. I thought it was cute to see there was a shiny penny on both of his shoes. His hair was neatly combed to the left side. He looked like a young man who was ready to go to a very important business meeting. It was awesome to see that he had a toy truck in his hand; I see that he isn’t growing up too fast. He looks content. Not as happy as I saw him last time, but he seems like he is a good place from the time before. Therefore, I cannot complain. I see in his eyes how anxious he is, waiting to see me.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a mess. However, I brushed my hair back as neatly as I could. I hated for him to see me in an orange jumpsuit, white socks, and orange slide-in shoes. I dreaded coming to the visiting room because of the hassle and the shit I had to go through to get there. I always had to put my hands through the open slide in the door for them to put cuffs on me—at least this time, they didn’t cuff my ankles. Before walking out, I looked back at my bed in the corner of the painted white brick room. I slowly turned my eyes to the steel toilet and realized I did not have any tissue to wipe my ass. I think being in here—you have to figure out more than living on the

streets. If a person does not have while in this cage—death will swallow them whole. The only I have is my writing. Other than that, it is a struggle trying to survive.

It made me sad to know that Kace and his caregiver had to go through security to see me. I hated that Kace was here, but I was so happy to see him. I never want him to end up in a place like this. I smiled slightly because seeing Kace woke me up, and I instantly knew what love was—and is.

I braced myself as I walked out of the second grey door. Kace's eyes lit up like the stars in the sky. I bent down, opened my arms, and watched him run to me.

He was crying and running, “Ember! Em! Em!”

He ran into my arms and hugged me so tight, “Ember, I miss you so much. I thought you left me.”

I tried to let go so that I could see his face and talk to him, but he held on tight, “No, do not let go, Em. Please do not let me go.”

I closed my eyes, and my tears were soaking Kace’s shirt, “I miss you so much, Kace!” I hugged him so tight, “I love you, Kace.”

Still hugging me, “I love you so much, Em. So. So. So much.”

We hugged each other for a while and didn’t say a word.

Afterward, we walk to the nearest table. I picked him up and kissed him all over his chubby cheeks, arms, hand, head, any and everywhere.

He sat on my lap and talked my ears off. I didn’t mind at all. I haven’t heard his voice in so long. It was music to my ears.

“Guess what, Em?”

“What?” I asked.

He whispered in my ear, “I love you.”

I returned the favor, “I love you too, dude.”

He laughed, “You still call me, dude.”

I laughed, “I sure do … and.”

We both said at the same time, “Buddy.”

“I have something for you, Em?”

“Oh yeah, and what is that?”

Kace had brought two boxes with him. He opened one of them, and it was filled with letters that he had written, “I have so many letters I wrote you. I wrote the date on them so you can read them in order.”

I hugged him, “Oh, Kace, thank you so much!”

He pushed the other box to me, “Here. Open it.”

I slowly opened the pretty baby blue box; it was filled with pinwheels and dandelions.

I couldn’t stop myself from crying. Kace wiped my tears, “I knew you were going to be a big baby and cry.”

I tickled him, “So, I am a big baby, huh?”

He was wiggling all over the place, “Yeah, you are a big baby who cries a lot.”

Kace and I talked and talked. When it was time to go, he said, “Em, I will see

you sooner rather than later.”

I picked him up, “I will see you sooner rather than later, Kace.”

With a high pitch voice, “I am for real, Em.” He opened his arms wide, “I made a whole lot of wishes on pinwheels and dandelions!”

I laughed, “You made wishes on pinwheels?”

“I sure did, so I know for real, for real, we will soon be together.”

I gave Kace a lot of kisses, “I am for real too, Kace.”

I put him down, “I will have some letters for you next time.”

He nodded his head, “Okay, but read all my letters first.”

I nodded my head, “Okay. I promise.”

I hugged his caregivers and thanked them. Afterward, I took both of my boxes back to my room and read Kace’s letters.

I am forever grateful that the hourglass, the moon, and the stars didn’t let me drown. Once, I couldn’t see in the storm, but now I am surfing on the tides, and what wonderful waves they are!

Surrender

T his time I climbed up the Grandfather Tree and made myself at home for a little while. I begin to reminisce once again.

It took me back to the day Mr. Richardson visited me. He brought a couple of things that Ms. Brown sent to me the last time he visited. I wasn’t willing to take it last time, but this time my heart felt at ease. I told him that I will read the package later and to thank Ms. Brown for me.

Kace’s been visiting me once a week. His visits have kept me focused on the prize. Classes are going well. Soon I will be graduating with a high school diploma. I really enjoy school; I didn’t know it was so much fun! I guess since now I have the chance to sit down, listen, learn, study, and apply myself, I can really retain what I am learning.

I walked back to my room and hopped on my bunk. I read all of Kace’s letters, but there is one that I favored the most. It was simple, plain, and gave me the strength to stay focused so that we can be together again.

Em,

I’ve been learning how to type on a typewriter. I love you so much and miss you so much. I know I will see you soon.

Love,

Kace

I opened Ms. Brown's package. There was a letter, a couple of notebooks, and a library card inside.

Ember,

I hope all is well with you. I know I am the last person you want to talk to, but I hope one day you will forgive me. It wasn’t my intention to turn you in. I had to follow the guidelines and protocol. I always knew you were running from something; however, I didn’t know who or what you were running from. I must say, I miss seeing you here. I got used to seeing you every day. I miss our conversations. Ember, you are a very smart young lady who is going to many places in life. I for sure want to be a part of it. Only if I am allowed. I am not going to say much, but I want to visit you. Is that okay with you? I put a couple of notebooks in the package for you because I know how much you love to write. Also, I put money on your book so that you will be able to buy a couple of things that you might need.

I hope to see you soon,

Ms. Lilian

After reading Ms. Brown's letter, I was open to her coming to visit. If I am honest with myself, I do miss her as well. She made a huge impact on my life. I never knew someone could really care. She was once a stranger, but soon she became a friend. Ms. Brown always treated me with respect. I guess she was doing her job, and I can’t be upset with her for that. I am willing to forgive and forget. We had more good times than bad. Therefore, the good times most definitely outweighed the only bad time we had.

Today, I got a new ‘roommate.’ To my surprise, she was pregnant. I introduced myself, but she didn’t say anything. She kept her head to the floor... I didn’t understand why she sat in the corner of the room. I know we all go through things; therefore, I let her be. She wrapped her long dark hair in a knot. She rubbed her stomach, and I saw the fear in her eyes. I didn’t want to violate her space; however, I made up her bed for her. I looked under my pillow and gave her most of my snacks. I wanted her to see that I was friendly and that she was not alone.

Later that evening, I was lying on my bed reading some of Kace’s letters. She caught me off-guard. Slowly she said, “Thank you.”

I put the letters down, smiled, and said, “You’re more than welcome.”

I turned my attention back to my letters.

“My name is Valentina.”

I looked at her. Her head was down, and she repeated, “My name is Valentina.”

I sat on my bed. Trying to make eye , but it was hard to do. I put my hand out to shake hers, “Nice to meet you, Valentina. My name is Ember.”

She nodded her head, but she didn’t shake my hand. I was okay with that. We all need time to break into this hell-hole.

I laid down and continued reading my letters.

Once again, she broke the silence, “I do not deserve to be in here. I tried to defend myself and my baby from my papa. He tried to kill me, and I am in here for maybe murder.”

I was saying to myself, what the …? I didn’t know what to say. I sat on the edge of my bed. Valentina looked at me with eyes I’d seen before … as I call them, sad eyes. “I am having a little girl.” She rubbed her belly, “I am going to name her Isabella.” She looked at me and smiled, “Isn’t that a pretty name?”

I nodded my head yes.

“They told me I will have to give my baby up for adoption. My mom is dead. She died giving birth to me. Maybe I will die giving birth to my baby since I will be spending my life in prison.”

I didn’t know what to say.

She continued, “My papa is the father of my child. He was scared I was going to tell. That is why he tried to kill us both. I couldn’t let him do it.” She started to play with her fingers, “I stabbed him with a knife. I ran to get the gun …” she began to cry. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, “I ran … I … I … I … ran to get … I ran to get the … the … gun.” She paused and looked at me for a second, “He was running towards me.” She put her hands up, “What was I supposed to do? Let him kill my baby and me?”

I was speechless. Her mom died giving birth to her, and her dad was a monster.

She repeated herself, “Was I supposed to let him kill my baby and me?”

I didn’t know what to say, “Your lawyer should help you. He was running towards you, and it sounds like it was self-defense.” I walked over to sit beside her, “Don’t worry. It will work out. You will not be in here long.”

She rubbed her belly, “I am scared. I am only thirteen, and I am due any day now.” I said to myself, thirteen! Wow, when you think you have it bad, someone is always worse off than you.

I opened my eyes, took a deep breath, and continued to think of my past life. I when I had an unexpected visitor. I thought it was Ms. Brown, but instead, it was the last person who I never ever wanted to see again in my life. I looked through the glass to see who it could be, but I didn’t see anyone I recognized. I walked into the visiting room and to my far left in the back corner was—my mother. She had on a dingy red shirt and looked like she just came from the dead. She looked way older than her age. The bags under her eyes looked like she had gotten punched numerous times. I could tell she still was on

something because she couldn’t keep still. Her legs were shaking; she kept blinking her eyes and pushing her hair back. As always, something wasn’t right. I was going to walk away, but instead, I pulled up a chair and asked, “Why are you here?”

I guess she had tried to clean herself up, but she looked a damn mess to me. I could see straight through her. She might be putting on a front for everyone else, but not for me.

“I—I … I wanted to come and visit you,” said my mom, looking at her fingers and not at me.

“Why? What do you want? You already fucked up my life with your selfishness!”

“I am your mother! You are going to respect me!” she yelled.

“Respect you? Why would I respect you when you do not respect yourself?”

She lowered her voice, “I’ve changed.”

I laughed slightly to keep myself from yelling. “Bullshit! Changed? Changed what? Crack pipes, needles in your arms.” I scooted my chair back, “Well, whoop de fucking doo for you.” I stood up and started to walk to the door, “I don’t need you. Kace most definitely does not need you either.”

She ran her fingers through her dirty hair, “I know you do not need me. I am not here to get custody of you.” She looked at me with disgust in her eyes, “I don’t want you. I never did. You always have been a fucking headache.” She put her hands through her hair again, “From the looks of it, you are still a fucking migraine.” Her eyes were blinking non-stop, “It is better for you and me if you stay in the system. I am going to fight for Kace. I came here to let you know they might let me take Kace home. I’ve been clean for a year … and I …”

I ran over to where she was sitting. I slammed my hand on the table and got in her face, “You will not go near Kace!” I yelled, “Do you hear me?” I pointed my finger at her, “If you do, I will kill you!”

The officers tried to restrain me, but I put up a fight, “Do you hear me! If you go near him, I will kill you! You are a trashy crack-head who is never going to change!” They were dragging me out of the room. I yelled, “Because of your actions, I am in here, bitch! Because of you, I’ve been raped! Because of your selfish ways, Kace and I are apart! You will always be a dirty slut who sucks every man’s dick who dangles a bag of crack in your face! You are a good-fornothing mother and low-life junky!” They were taking me out the door. I yelled, “Stay away from Kace!”

As I was completely occupied mentally, I had to hold onto a branch on the Grandfather Tree. I took another deep breath because all I could think was that my mother was a trigger point then and sometimes a trigger point now.

Later that night, they put me in isolation. I thought I was going to go crazy in that one little room with a small window and walls that seemed like a tiny box. The officer who always gave me brown paper bags came to visit. She brought me my notebook and a pen that Ms. Brown gave me. The officer sat with me for a little while and talked about my triggers. She made me realize that I was doing so well and that I could not let my mom or anyone mess up my chances of getting out of here and seeing Kace. Since I had a good record for the past

couple of months, she said I would be in isolation for one day.

That day I had to be honest with myself. I had so many things on my mind. There was no way the system was going to put Kace back in my mother’s care. I had to talk to Mr. Richardson as soon as possible.

I touched the soft pages of my notebook. It was so smooth. I knew I had to write in it before the night fell. When the pen touched the paper, it was like warm butter on a jelly toast.

Dear Whoever is Willing to Listen,

My mother visited me today. She looks a damn mess. It is like she is faking the world, but she cannot fool me. I know she is no good for anyone or anything. How can she take care of Kace when she can’t take care of herself? She is a human mistake walking on this earth. I cannot tell God what to do, but if there’s a God, He made a huge mistake making my mom a human being. She is a selfish bitch. She only wants Kace so she can get a check, food stamps, or any government assistance. JoAnne does not give a shit about Kace. The only thing she’s going to do is fuck him up. She will leave him naked, starving, and who knows, she might get him hooked on drugs. She said she does not want me—as if that hurts my feelings! I do not want her ass around me at all. If she dies, I will not have any remorse because she is a deadbeat parent walking on this earth. I hate her to the point that when she dies, she does not deserve dirt on her grave. I have to remove myself from her toxicity. If not, she will take me down and mentally fuck me up again. I’ve come too far to screw up everything I've worked so hard for. Whoever you are, and if you are listening, please do not let my mom get custody of Kace, please. My mom will relapse; if she hasn’t already. She will never change. I know she has something up her sleeve. Please look out for Kace's best interests.

Kace deserves better,

Ember

I didn’t have anything else to do. So, I wrote myself another letter.

Dear Surrender,

What is the bigger picture? Is it life or death? In my life, it can’t be both. Is it happiness or sadness? Once again, in my life, it can’t be both. Can you show me? Which one is it? Am I missing something here? I was told when I was younger that life didn’t give a shit about me. Yeah, clearly, I know that and have no doubt my mother was right about that. That was by far the only thing she was right about. Other than that, my mother is an epic failure. However, they say life is what you make it. Is that true? All my life, I’ve been trying to ‘make it,’ but the only thing I’ve done is—fail. I’ve been trying to ‘make it,’ but when I reach the top, I am kicked back down. I’ve been trying to ‘make it,’ but when I feel like hope has crossed my path, it has been tackled down once again by one too many challenges. I am ‘making it’ the best way I can, but life beats me down when I try my hardest to get up. What am I supposed to do? Surrender? If so, what am I surrendering to? Love, hope, peace, joy, happiness, Kace? Myself? Who or what? Tell me what to do! Show me, please! Lead the way. I promise I will follow.

Right here, right now, I surrender,

Ember

I sat on the floor in the corner and wondered, why is life always trying to pull me under? What have I done? I am trying so hard. I do not know what else to do. Is it karma? A generational family curse? If so, I am breaking the curse when I get out of here.

Dear Karma,

I am always being struck by the lighting and shaken by the thunder. Why is that? I was born into this world cursed. How is that fair to my brother or me? We should have been born with a clean slate. It is not fair that we have to carry the karma from our past lives or our family fuck-ups. We do not deserve that. We deserve to walk on our own path and make our own mistakes, not cleaning up other people’s shit from their past or the choices they made. Kace and I do not know how to clean up a mess that we didn’t make. However, for some reason, we are paying the price. Yeah, we are paying the price—a high price at that. When will it be over? Will it extend in another life as well? Karma, if you are the only thing that can change Kace’s and my fate—then what are you waiting for? Do you not think we’ve suffered enough?

We do not deserve this shit,

Ember

The officer came by and told me that she would release me within an hour. I guess when they say 24 hours, you have to serve every second. Before she left,

she reminded me how far I have come. I thought about the conversation the officer and I had, and she was right. After she left, it was darker than last night, but I saw the moon through my window. I was happy to know that the moon was my company and light. I flipped through the notebook, and a paper bag fell out. As always, I began to write:

Dear Halo,

I see you. You are the light around the moon, and I know that you are the light above my head. You are a reflection of what and who I want to be. Therefore, tonight is the perfect time to reflect. There have been so many times, if not all the time, that the halation of light has spread in my life beyond its boundaries and has formed a fog everywhere. However, I have you right above my head to help me direct my path. I have changed. I have worked so hard on—me, Ember. I feel like when it comes to my mom, I am like water in the sink. My emotions go around and around in circles because she has drained me and taken everything from me. She is so good at pulling the plug on everything I’ve worked so hard to accomplish.

I never gave away my power—it’s just that I am depleted.

Right now, just for tonight and tomorrow, I am in hibernation as I unfold the memories that once hunted me. These memories have taken me to the highest point, and they most definitely have dragged me to my lowest point. They have dragged me so low to the point that my feelings and emotions are deeper than the sea.

The name I use for Mom is—claustrophobia. She is the person I fear most, for Kace’s sake. Every time I see her, she closes me in—in a confined space in my heart and in my mind. Anxiety takes over me because I knew this day

would come—that she would try to get custody of Kace. When I see her, I lose control… seeing her and thinking of her sends my mind to claustrophobia. The memories and remembrance of her close me in, and they trap me every single time—that is why I am in here. I have to control it.

From this day forth, I am not surrounded by death. I am not mentally folding up in a ball. I am a parachute. I am free. I am flying like a bald eagle. I’m going in a direction where I cannot and will not carry dead weight.

From now on, I am dealing with certain people with a long-handled spoon,

Ember

I had been so deep in my own thoughts that I wasn’t aware of the sun peeking out from the clouds. I looked at the horizon. It was grey and dark. That is how I feel. That is how I always feel. I jumped down from the tree. I put my hands in my pocket to warm my fingers for a short moment. I took my hands out of my pockets, opened them wide, and I said as loud as I could, “I surrender! I surrender! I, Ember, surrender!”

Borrowed Time

T he dark sky is being covered by a thick fog. The view reminds me of how I always felt about my mom. Instead of me being surrounded by her love, I was covered by a cloudy white thick fog, trying to find my way out of a chaotic maze in my mind. I’ve been broken all my life, and the fog hasn’t shown me any grace or mercy. I am tired of always trying to fight through the fog. I am exhausted from not knowing which way to go. Nevertheless, once the fog clears, I feel like I am on the hunt and racing time.

One thing I have noticed about my life is that I am always on borrowed time. I have to think quickly on my feet because time doesn’t allow me to rest. Instead, it keeps me on my tippy toes as I play ‘guess who’s trying not to cheat.’ Hell, I don’t blame myself for trying to cheat; at least I am trying to guess what’s to come. However, every time I try to guess just a little … just a tad bit, I stumble and fall.

I turned over one of the brown paper bags and began to write about how I was feeling.

Dear Borrowed Time,

Why do you tease me? It seems like you give me a teeny weenie bit of light for a moment, and then, within the blink of an eye, you blow the light out in less than a second. Then I am left in the dark without a trace of light. What have I done for you to hate me so much? After all, and truth be told, I

didn’t ask to be here. You put me here. Do you enjoy my suffering? It seems like you do because every step I take is difficult. You never spare me grace or a grain of mercy. Why do I have to be the one who borrows time as opposed to having time given to me fairly? When I look around, I see people enjoying life and the time that is given to them. It doesn’t seem like they are on borrowed time, but I notice I am. One would say, no, you have the same amount of time, just like everyone else. No, that is not true. The time that is given to me ticks by quickly and runs out faster than it ticks. Borrowed time, have you noticed that I was treated like trash as I was dumped here and there, or wherever they could place me? Did you notice that I didn’t stay in a home long because I was on borrowed time? Time wasn’t given to me because I was never given the ‘time’ to get to know anyone. I guess not, because I was and still am on borrowed time.

I am sitting in a tree looking at the clock. The long hand never lends its hand to spare me more time. Instead, it takes more time away than it gives. The short hand always short-changed me on time and my life as well. And the second hand, oh, it is the worst!. It is a make-it-or-break-it moment. As it quickly ticks … ticks … ticks … it slams the door in my face faster than it opened. Borrowed time, I want to be treated as fairly as anyone else. I hope one day you will favor me. If not, I have to continue to live on borrowed time until my time runs out completely.

Time is never on my side,

Ember

The fog is getting closer. The closer it gets, it surrounds me. I reach out to touch it, but my hand finds itself going straight through the fog. It reminds me of a ghost—and I am a spirit because everywhere I go, nobody sees me. I jumped down from the tree. With each step I took, I was walking through the fog. I looked back, and I couldn’t see the Grandfather Tree. I felt like I was invisible.

In reality, I am because people ignore me, yet I am here...why am I here? I do not know. I am here just because … Usually, people send out a ‘Just Because I Am Thinking of You’ card because they are thinking of them.

Furthermore, people send their loved ones a ‘Just Because’ gift to show them how much they love them, and overall, ‘just because’ it’s a kind thing to do. I am not that kind of ‘just because’ as there isn’t anything anyone wants to do ‘just because’ or just to be nice to me. I am here just because I am counterfeit and the universe made a mistake. So, I just so happen to be here just because I am on borrowed time. I wish I could walk into the fog and be swept off my feet and be blown away into the clouds. If only life was that simple!

I ed when I wanted to be invisible when I got out of isolation. Staying in there for a night and a day was mentally draining. When I was sitting in there, all I could think of was my mom is a bad and rotten seed. Negative energy, storms, and dark clouds follow my mom everywhere she goes. Right now, I am in a hole because of my mom. Once again, she had me in a fucked-up situation. And, where is she? No damn where to be found. Where am I? Paying for the shit she put me in. Bearing the consequences and fending for myself again while she is who-knows-where. Every terrible thing that happened in my life was because of my mother. There I was in a small room and in a deep hole, trying to survive the darkness. I am familiar with the darkness, but being smothered in a confined space is torture. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. However, I had to tell myself, I’ve been through worse. I learned something new about myself that day. I learned that I was claustrophobic.

I had so much on my mind that night. My mind wouldn’t settle down because all I could think of was Kace. After I got out of the hole, Mr. Richardson was in the visiting room.

“I heard what happened,” says Mr. Richardson, looking disappointed.

I slouched in the chair, “Why are you looking like that? It wasn’t my fault. Why was she allowed to visit me in the first place?”

“Well, I reported her caseworker because she was supposed to be the mediator for you and your mother. If not, the mediator at least should have been there. Your mother wasn’t supposed to visit you alone.”

I put my hand in my pocket, “She shouldn’t have come to visit at all. I didn’t put her on the visiting list. I should have a fucking choice.”

He looked down and slowly looked back up, “The judge granted her permission to see you.”

“So, let me get this straight. What I say doesn’t fucking matter? So, nobody gives a shit about how I feel? I have no say in this?”

He stuttered, “Your mother has been clean for a while, and …”

I abruptly cut him off and yelled, “I am human! Kace is a human being too!” I continued and pointed at my chest, “Kace and I matter!”

He was going to say something, but I didn’t want to hear that shit. I slowly scooted my chair back, “You know what? Fuck it. None of you give a damn . You just care about getting a fucking paycheck and getting us out of your hair.” I walked backward, “Well, I guess Kace will not be a case number

anymore.” I tilt my head, “I guess his next journey is him being in a long freezer with a tag on his toe. He will have another case number as a child who was abused, and then the case will be closed. The file you have will be added to his death certificate in a file cabinet in the state's basement or some shit.”

Again, he was about to say something. I walked up to him and tightened my lips, “You could change this situation if you wanted to. Just this in your frontal lobe. If Kace dies, it would be your fault.”

I walked off and didn’t look back. I laid on my bunk bed and had a good cry. Needless to say, I wrote my feelings on paper.

Dear Maze,

My mind is a maze, and I do not know what to do. Apparently, I entered this maze before I was born. There was no way I had control over it because this was not a path that I would have chosen. Each level is mind-boggling because the number of paths is more challenging. The levels are uneven. When I try to climb up a hill, you unfairly tilt the maze, and I am right back at the entrance. I am not lost because I am finding my way, but when I am one step away from the end, you close the door, and another door appears— it opens, and it is another maze that I have to figure out. This time the puzzle is trickier than the last fourteen that were inconsiderately given to me.

You know that Kace will be in deep trouble if my mother gets custody of him. He is too young. He cannot handle the tides. He wouldn’t know how to ease the currents. He would be a dead soul floating lifeless in the turbulent waters. Mr. & Mrs. Maze, I will gladly make you a deal. I am willing to sacrifice whatever you all need from me to save Kace. My sacrifice will solve

each and every problem that Kace may encounter. I will gladly take on every route for Kace, and I will endure every challenge he will have to face. May you grant me mercy?

I promise I will keep my word,

Ember

After being bemused by my dark memories—I stopped in my tracks and enjoyed the fresh breeze. I began to walk as I disappeared in the fog, the maze and I were still trying to reach an agreement. Until then, I will never give up on Kace. I will always and forever fight for him until my death.

Spider web

W alking in the fog was something very familiar to me because my mind is always foggy, but I managed somehow to find a way to think clearly. I walked about a mile or two up a couple of steep hills, zig-zag pathways, freefalling downhills as I tried to keep a steady pace without stumbling. After all of that, I ended up exactly where I started … at the Grandfather Tree. I didn’t know the path was so long and a giant circle. Funny, that is how life is; it takes you on a difficult path only for you to find yourself at the beginning.

Well, I climbed up the Grandfather Tree, and I once again made myself at home. I thought to myself that walking down the foggy path was lonely, but it was peaceful. I’ve been alone all my life. As I walked the pathway, I found myself walking with my hands in the pocket of my pants, jacket, or sweatshirt while my head was down, focused on my footsteps. I need to start walking with my head up instead of down. I guess I walk with my head down because I am always heading in the same direction. Maybe if I walked with my head up, I would be able to take a different path. I am going to put that on my to-do list.

It started to sprinkle. I hope it doesn’t pour down rain. I put my hood over my head, hoping it would keep me from getting soaked. I balanced myself on the thick branch that held my entire body, and I had room to sit with my legs crossed. I laid my head back and enjoyed watching Mother Nature sprinkle her love around the earth. I pulled out another paper bag and began to write.

Dear Earth,

I hear you whispering in my ear. The crisp breeze is telling me a story, and I am so intrigued. The breeze and the gentle wind are telling me that you all are lucky. I agree with them because you have a mother who cares deeply about you so much! You have four seasons, and Mother Nature takes her time to prepare you for the changes to come in such a gentle and comfortable way. I imagine her smiling as she gently pushes the leaves as they dance in the wind. She caresses the leaves while they slowly turn different colors as they change, falling calmly. Fall harvest prepares you for the winter days ahead as you peacefully sleep. Spring awakens you from your well-needed rest. You joyfully bloom with so much grace while the bees playfully enjoy the flowers and the birds sing as the sun rises. By the time summer comes, you are wide awake, enjoying the extended daylight. As fall peacefully tiptoes in, you prepare yourself for a new and prosperous year to come.

Unlike you, all four seasons in my life are always heavier, year after year. Every day of my life is filled with uncertainties. I am free-falling, not knowing where I am going to end up. Although everything is closing in on me, I keep going. Most times, it is hard, but I try to keep a little hope and press on. However, when things do not work out accordingly, I replace hope with a higher perspective of fear and uncertainty. As I ire the soul of the earth and the Grandfather Tree, I am confident that I can try to believe again. We shall see.

Longing to be the soul of the earth,

Ember

Sitting in the tree, I enjoyed the sprinkles that landed gently on my nose. I believed Mother Nature knows my soul is pure. Maybe she would shower some blessings in my life. The sprinkles made me think about Ms. Brown. I the day she came to visit me. That was the first time ever I let someone into my

empty soul.

She was dressed beautifully, as always. Her purple outfit had a sense of happiness that fed my soul. I did not know how but the color purple changed my mood for the better. Who knows, maybe it was because Ms. Brown is such a wonderful person? I think she has a pure heart, and she is an angel sent here on earth for an assignment.

“Ms. Ember. How is life treating you?” she asked.

I made a couple of circles on the table with my hand. I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know. Besides being in here, it was going great. I saw Kace a few times. I am almost done with getting my high school diploma, then … my mom popped up out of nowhere, and she stole my joy and slowed down my stride.” I paused for a moment, “How rude of me. Ms. Brown, how are you doing? Thank you so much for the letter and the notebooks. I write in them every day. It is hard to that I have them because I am so used to writing on paper bags.”

Ms. Brown reached for my hand, and I grasped hers back. She looked me in my eyes, “I am fine, thank you for asking, and you are more than welcome. It wasn’t any trouble. More so, a pleasure.” She wrapped her other hand around mine. Our hands were in a ball. I felt liked. Rather, I felt loved but ‘liked’ would do for now. She squeezed my hands, “Ember, you cannot let anyone steal your joy. Well, you can, but you are the only person who has the power to let them do that. Your joy solely belongs to you and only you. As for your stride, you are a smart young lady who has the world in the palm of your hand. Life is going to get better. You do not see it at the moment, but I promise you it will. Life isn’t only full of surprises with struggles, but it is full of surprises with blessings and greatness as well. You cannot stop believing. You have to hold on just a little while longer.”

While Ms. Brown was talking, I was crying. Tears fell uncontrolled from my eyes. I didn’t even stop them, nor did I wipe them because that was something new. They were not tears of fighting hope. They were tears of hope. They were tears of, if I got this far, I have a lot more to give. They were tears of, I am going to hold on a little while longer. I held her hand tight, “Thank you, Ms. Brown; I needed to hear this. It was right on time. I am worried. My mom said she is fighting to get custody of Kace. She is not fit to be a parent. Most definitely, she is not mother material. Kace will die from neglect in her care.” My leg was shaking about a million miles an hour, “I don’t know what to do.” My tears made a puddle on the table, “Nobody will listen.” I reached for both of her hands, “Kace … Kace is my heart and soul. If something happens to him …”

Ms. Brown slowly cut me off, “Ember, have faith.” She smiled, “Hope for only the good.”

“I always hope for the good, but life has me in a spider web. I’ve tried to get out, but it ties me down in its thick web of despair, disappointment, stress, and hate. It’s always pinning me down. No matter how hard I try to wiggle out, I am stuck in its web.”

Later that evening, I stayed in the library until it closed. I pulled out my notebook.

Dear Spider web,

Why won’t you let me go? I will not accept your silky web as my resting place. Your web might be soft, but there is nothing comfortable about you. You have my mind entangled with doubts. You have me feeling helpless as you tie down my hands and feet. Let me go! I am not your prey! Spider web, you captured me, and then you abandoned me in your web. You are just like

my mother; she left Kace and me in her old and damaged cobweb. She selfishly left us to figure out life.

Furthermore, just like you, she will not let us go. You covered me in your web to the point you made me invisible and empty inside. Partly because of you, people used a broom to swat me here and there because they see the webs all over me. They look at me as a nobody, an invasion, a pest, or a rodent who is trying to destroy their home. You confuse me because I know that I am not damaged and used, but there are many days I feel like I am no good for myself or anyone. Your web has cluttered my mind; I am disturbed mentally because I have never felt complete or good enough. I’ve been fighting so long to get out of your web—I am tired. However, I have come this far, and I am going to hold on a little while longer. When I hold on to your thin web tightly, something or someone uses the sharpest knife to cut it down. While it is swinging left and right, I try to jump and break free, but you catch me and wrap me back in your web again. I’ve been fighting for so long, and I will continue to fight because you cannot keep me here forever.

I am creating thicker skin,

Ember

When I walked into my cell, I noticed Valentina's things were gone. I thought to myself, maybe her lawyer worked everything out in her favor. One of my other cellmates had tears in her eyes, “Did you hear what happened to the new girl and her baby?”

I shook my head, “Oh, Valentina? No.”

“I didn’t know her name, but yeah, her. She gave birth and died. They said she had a seizure. She didn’t have any blood circulating for a long time, and her baby died trying to come out of her cervix.” She continued as her face looked like it was on fire from crying, “They had to cut the baby out because it was … dead.”

“What! How can that be? She was just here when I left to go to the library.”

“She told them that she didn’t feel too good. They didn’t believe her. They let her sit in the medical room … then when the doc walked in, it was almost too late. Word around is they wanted her to push. They didn’t prep her or anything. She was trying to tell them something didn’t feel right, but they didn’t care. They didn’t listen. We heard her screaming because she was in so much pain. They kept telling her to push … and then she had a seizure while the baby was halfway down her cervix.”

“Damn, they didn’t try to save the baby?” I asked.

She looked at me, “Nope, they said it was too late.” She shook her head in disbelief, “You know that was some straight-up bullshit.”

I nodded my head, “Yeah, just early this morning, she told me she was in a lot of pain. It started last night.”

“Yeah, I tried to tell them …”

Still shaking my head, “Yeah, you know how that goes. Nobody listens to us.” I sat on my bed and asked, “How could this be?”

“Her dad was arrested because they examined her, and her dad's semen was …”

I finished her sentence, “It was in her vagina.”

She nodded her head, “Yep.”

I was angry, “She tried to tell him, but they never listen to us. They always think that we are the problem. We try to tell them, but they never listen.” I shook my head, “Valentina and Isabella didn’t have to die.”

“Who is Isabella?”

“That was her baby’s name.”

My cellmate walked out into the general population. I stared at Valentina’s bed. I couldn’t believe she gave birth and died in jail. Damn. That is not a way to go. They didn’t even have a chance to live and to enjoy life. That is the shit I am talking about. Why put us on this earth if we are only put here to suffer? That is some fucked up shit.

I wrote in my journal.

Dear Valentina and Isabella,

I hope you all are in a better world than this one. I am sorry that you had to die this way. I hope you know that you weren’t alone. If you felt like nobody believed you—please know that I did. I have faith that you are a soul that is ing into the realm of no more suffering. I hope that, as of right now, you are holding baby Isabella in your arms. I hope that you are smiling because you know that no harm will come to her. As I always say, time without end, but today was the ending of your pain and abuse. You are above the realms where there’s no limitation. You do not have to worry about the ‘something in-between’ because everything is out in the open. There’s no need to fear or hide anymore because you are free. I hope that you had an easy transition while holding baby Isabella. Do not look back, Valentina, do not look back.

You are now among the stars,

I couldn’t sleep. I had Valentina and Isabella on my mind. My heart was heavy and sad. The only thing she asked and begged for was for someone of authority to listen. Her life and her baby’s life literally fell on ‘deaf ears.’ I was wide awake. I used the little light that I had from the hallway to write.

Dear Circle of Life,

The impression of you is so unique in the most exquisite ways. With you, there is a beginning and an end. You are the representation of birth and life. The in-between is survival, and the ending is death. The idea of life is just what it is when we arrive on the earth—our life is a circle, if you will, a 360. Once our wheels stop spinning, it rolls slowly until it completely stops. I

believe there is a limitation to the circle of life—if there wasn’t, life would continue without end. Things are never certain, for there are always uncertain changes in the circle of life. In this universal symbol, there is repurpose in another life. You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. How can that be? I guess because you are energetic. We are wholeness in another world, but here on earth, we are here to play the game from the cards that we are dealt until our time runs out. A world without end—that is interesting. I guess it is true because when we go to a new dimension, there is no such thing as an ending. Once we over, we originate into our infinite perfection. The self sees and feels no more back-biting, hurt, pain, depression, despair, and all the bullshit that follows. The circle of life has no blame, solitude, or default. Everything is what it is … because it is perfect!

I am aligned with the frequency and vibration of the moon and the stars.

Ember

Later that week, my mother visited me again. This time around, I thought about what Ms. Brown told me. I was so grateful Ms. Brown had visited me because I put her words to use and settled them in my mind. Before I walked out to see my mother, I told myself I am the only person who can or cannot let anyone take my power. Since the last visit with my mom, I’ve completely taken my power back. I am tired of finding myself in fucked-up shit because of her.

I took a deep breath and walked to the corner table.

She had her hands folded. I knew she was ready to get under my skin. I knew she was prepared to come for me.

“I see you got out of the black hole.”

I thought to myself, who told her I was in the hole? I squinted my eyes, ready to release fire, but I ed what Ms. Brown said to me, “I made the best of it.”

She laughed slightly to make fun of me, “You made the best of it. What did you do? Pray?”

“Technically, it is none of your concern.”

She laughed, “Technically. I see you are learning big words in here.”

I didn’t respond.

“I do not want to be here,” she said in a shitty tone.

“Well, why are you here?”

“I have to come to show them that I care.” Her facial expression told it all.

I nodded my head. We sat in silence for a minute.

“You know I saw baby Kace,” said my mom, smiling at me. It wasn’t a smile of joy; it was a smile of her trying to get a reaction out of me.

I said in a dry tone, “That’s good. How is Kace doing?”

“He was happy to see me. He didn’t ask about you,” she replied, looking into my eyes without blinking.

I didn’t blink either, but I said, “Oh.” Because I knew that wasn’t true.

“I picked him up, and he was saying, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.”

“Oh.”

She had a creepy smile on her face. This time her smile was so wide I could see her missing teeth, “They are going to give me custody of Kace next week.”

My heart was racing. I know she noticed the rising of my chest. I mentally closed my eyes and said to myself, Ember, that is not true.

“Did you hear me?” my mom asked, still smiling.

Calmly I said, “I did. Okay. If you say so. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Out of the blue, she yelled and slammed her hand on the table, “If I say so! I am getting my baby back next week!” She pointed at me, “And you will never see him again!” she yelled, “Do you hear me, Ember? You will never ever see him again!”

I sat there and looked at her with a blank stare.

The officers walked over to our table and escorted my mom out. She yelled, “You stupid, bitch!” She started to fight the officer and yelled, “Ember, you are a stupid bitch!”

While I was walking out of the visiting area, I ran into Mr. Richardson. He was visiting someone else, but I asked him if my mom got custody of Kace. The look he gave me had the answer in plain sight. I didn’t put up a fuss. I stared at him for a short moment. Once again, I found myself with my head down with my hands in my pocket and watching my foot take one step following the next.

Silent Sorrow

I t had stopped sprinkling, but I noticed there were teardrops on the tree branches. They were weeping for me. The tree branches know my story because Mother Nature gave them a glimpse of what’s to come. After all, the moon and stars are my family and my best friends. Why wouldn’t the flowers and the trees know? They are one big happy family too.

I am enjoying sitting in the Grandfather Tree. I closed my eyes and continued to reminisce. My mom didn’t get custody of Kace right away. She had to take a couple of parenting classes, and she had to stay clean. My stay in Juvie was extended because I was in a lot of fights. Ms. Brown visited most of the time; I would ignore her because I kept the ‘faith.’ I was ‘hopeful’ and ‘I was holding on just a little while longer’ for way too long. So, I said fuck it … fuck it all. Since I didn’t care if she visited or not, she stopped coming altogether. She wrote me weekly and sometimes monthly, but I never wrote her back. I just didn’t give a shit anymore.

I always quoted my poem.

Dear Wildfire,

Ember, you are a wildfire that is out of control. It doesn’t matter because nobody sees it; they only feel it. I burn and set fire to everyone who crosses me because they deserve it. If they don’t deserve it, so what, fuck it. Nobody deserves my kindness. My kindness to them is a weakness, so I created a

wildfire in my mind and around me. My skin is brass, and I do not burn easily. I am a human hazard because I destroy everything and everyone who gets in my way. They made me this way. Every time they neglected me, I was slowly fuming with heat. Every time they ignored me the fumes grew hotter from the smoke. Therefore, I became a human being gone bad because I was a dangerous person. Every time they inhaled my fumes, I would cut them with my tongue's quadruple swords and kill them with my words.

My fumes surrounded everyone with darkness because they couldn’t ever figure me out. They couldn’t read my thoughts; I became fearless in the worst way ever. When I was born, I was a wildfire, but the flames were smothered by me, always having to find a way to survive. Wildfire defines me perfectly because, just like a wildfire, I was unplanned, unwanted, and now I am uncontrollable. Everyone says, Ember, you’ve come so far, and they are shocked by my actions. I don’t know why they are surprised. After all, it is not my fault. I was born this way.

I have officially exploded,

Ember

The week after my fifteenth birthday, I learned my mom got custody of Kace. A week later, I got out of Juvie. With my background and recent mental and verbal problems, nobody wanted me in their home. Shit, that was fine with me because I didn’t want to be in anyone’s fucking home anyway. I preferred the group home. First, I knew they knew my history, and the girls there knew not to fuck with me. Second, I would have a room to myself because they called me a hazard. I loved that title because that was the first time I was fearless.

Two weeks after being in the group home, Mr. Richardson brought me my high school diploma. I was forbidden to attend graduation because they labeled me as a problem teen. What the fuck ever. I am not a problem teen; they are the fucking problem because they do not listen.

Mr. Richardson handed me my diploma, “Ember, here’s your diploma.”

I had my arms crossed. I didn’t reach for it. I rolled my eyes, “Put it on the table.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he asked.

I had an ‘I don’t give a shit’ look on my face, “Both. Either. You can put it on the table or not. I don’t give a fuck.”

He yelled, “Ember, you are not going to talk to me like that!”

“Shit, why not? When I am nice, you don’t hear me out or give a fuck, so why should I?”

He stood up. I didn’t move an inch. I sat in my chair.

He put my diploma on the table and walked out.

Later that day, I opened the purple diploma folder, and there was a note in it from Ms. Brown.

Dear Ember,

I hope all is well. When I visited you, I your eyes lit up when I had on the color purple. I do not know if purple is your favorite color; if not, it should be. I bought the purple cover so you could have something to put your diploma in. Oh, before I forget, the papers after your note are your transcripts. With your GPA, Ember, you can get into any college your heart desires. I told you that life has so much to offer you. Ms. Ember, as I said before, the world is at your fingertips. However, it is up to you because, after all, it is your life. Let me give you something to think about. Since you have your high school diploma, you can now apply to college. I will be more than happy to help you if you like. Just let me know. Attached is my number; call me if you feel up to it.

Love,

Ms. Lilian

I looked at my GPA, and it was a 5.0. I was looking at my transcripts—I didn’t know that I was taking honors classes all along. My eyes widened. I read my test scores, and holy shit, I was classified as a genius!

College? Um, I know I can my classes because I love to learn, but is college for me? Will I fit in? It has to be better than this. Anything is better than this shit. Ms. Brown says it is up to me. I agree; it is. I am going to think about it. I am

afraid to put out my wildfire. If I do, then people will take my kindness for weakness again. I am happy being a human hazard. I will think about what I want in life and get back to her later.

I smiled because that was nice of Ms. Brown to buy a purple cover for my diploma. I guess the saying goes just when you think people aren’t looking— they are. I see now that saying goes for the good and the bad. Therefore, I always have to be aware, not only of my surroundings but of myself.

A month ed. I got a couple of letters from Ms. Brown. I wrote her to say thank you for the purple cover and the encouraging words—and that’s about it.

Mr. Richardson has been faithfully coming to visit me. We just sit and look at each other. The only thing I want to know is how Kace is doing, but he says he doesn’t know since he isn’t Kace’s case manager anymore.

Kace’s been on my mind a lot. I wonder every minute how he is doing. One of the adults in the house was walking down the hall. She smiled and waved. I didn’t wave, nor did I smile. Another caseworker asked me how I was doing. I quickly said, “Fine.” Then another one asked me did I need anything. I was thinking to myself, what the fuck is going on? Later that evening, Mr. Richardson came to visit.

“What is going on? Why is everyone speaking to me?” I asked out of curiosity.

He stuttered …

I helped him out, “What is wrong with Kace?”

He continued to stutter.

I started to cry and yell at the same time, “What the fuck is it? What is going on with Kace!”

Tears formed in Mr. Richardson's eyes, “You … you … you were right, Ember.”

I lower my voice and slowly asked, “Right about what?”

He wiped his nose with his white shirt, “Your mom.”

I looked around, and people were standing in and standing near our ‘group home’ living room.

It was hard to stay calm, “Okay. So, what did my mom do? What did she do to Kace?”

He didn’t say anything.

Tears were flowing from my eyes, “Please talk to me, please.”

Ms. April is a caregiver. She walked over and rubbed my back, “Honey, your brother is in the hospital.”

“What! What do you mean … in the hospital? What happened?”

Mr. Richardson finally got himself together, “Your mom’s boyfriend or some man raped him and beat him nearly to death.”

I looked around, and it seemed like everyone knew except for me, “Did all of you know?”

“Yes, it was on the news,” said Ms. April.

I couldn’t catch my breath. “On the news?”

She continued, “You never watch TV.”

I said again, “On the news?”

“Yes,” she said, rubbing my back.

I put my hand on my chest, “No … no … no … that can’t be?”

I looked at Mr. Richardson, tightened my lips, and slapped him, “You did this!”

I raised my hand again, but Ms. April caught it, “I told you this would happen, but you didn’t listen to me!”

I yelled, “Just because we are wondering children and nobody wants us, that doesn’t mean we don’t know shit! You caseworkers pick us up and think y’all walked in our shoes and all of a sudden think you all know what is best for us!”

I stormed out of the room yelling, “I told you! I told you this was going to happen!” I stopped at the door, “If Kace’s dies, it was by your hands and careless ways.”

Ms. April tried to comfort me. I jerked away from her and ran to my room.

All night I was balled up like an infant. During the middle of the night, I wrote in the notebook Ms. Brown gave me.

Dear Silent Sorrow,

I am hurting. I am numb. I am weak. I am dead inside. I am lost for words… please, help me. Will the morning ever come in my and Kace’s life? Where is the sun? It keeps setting on us, but it never rises! I am walking on

a bridge surrounded by troubled waters. Where is the moon? I need help with controlling the waters. The bridge has water on it, under it, and all around it. It is unstable. It is rocking from side to side. I am scared. What am I to do? Please, tell me quickly. My fear is that I will never get across to the other side without Kace. I need Kace in my life. I need him. I will not leave Kace behind. I do not understand any of this. It is hard to find peace —when will morning come? Right here and right now, I am unable to feel.

I will jump off this troubled bridge if Kace is not with me,

Ember

Nobody gave me an update. I called the hospital, but they said they cannot give out any information. I told the nurse I was his sister; however, she stood firm and didn’t tell me anything. I wanted to curse her out and scream through the phone, but I knew that wasn’t going to help me with the answers I was desperately seeking. Instead, I stayed calm and asked the nurse if Kace was still alive.

She said, “Yes.”

I softly said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie,” says the nurse in a sad voice.

Before I hung up the phone, “Ember,” she said quickly.

“Yes.”

“I am Nurse Hope.”

“Thank you, Nurse Hope.”

Quickly she asked, “What is Kace’s favorite toy?”

I burst out crying. I couldn’t get the words out, but I managed to say, “Pinwheels. His favorite toy is a pinwheel.”

“Ms. Em,” said the nurse.

Still crying, I took a deep breath, “That’s me.”

“Ms. Em, if you have someone to bring you to the hospital, it would be my honor to meet you at the door for you to see Kace and for Kace to see you. However, I must say, you have to brace yourself.”

Quickly I said, “Okay … Okay … Okay…”

She repeated, “You have to brace yourself. He is talking here and there. He needs a lot of rest, and he is badly bruised.”

Slowly I said, “I will be on my best behavior.”

“He only talks about Em and pinwheels. I figured nobody would know his favorite toy is a pinwheel. However, if you have an ID, bring it; if not, do not worry about it.”

I cried and cried, “Thank you so much, Nurse Hope. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Em.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“I will be here all day tomorrow. I will see you then,” said Nurse Hope.

“Okay, thank you again.”

We both hung up. I couldn’t sleep because I had to find a way to see Kace. Somehow that night, the last word in my head was the word ‘hope.’ I prayed that night for Kace. That was the first time that I ever really believed in hope. After talking to Nurse Hope, I didn’t have any room for fear. Hope swallowed fear whole as I couldn’t make room for any kind of negative thinking.

Before going to sleep. I mentally spoke to Kace, “Kace, I am making a million

and one wishes on my make-believe pinwheel and a million more on my dandelion.”

I then dozed off.

I tossed and turned all night long. I felt like the universe was sending me a sign. I had a strange dream. I was carrying a bookbag on my back, and it had a lot of tools in it. However, for some reason, I couldn’t take off the backpack. In the dream, I had to continue to start over from where I started. I was so tired and frustrated. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. All I knew was that I was walking in the desert with a backpack on. Again, the dream kept repeating itself. I didn’t want to keep starting over because it was hard. However, every single time the dream started over, it was more challenging because I was hungry and thirsty. I saw a tree in the desert, but I couldn’t get any water. It started to snow, but I didn’t have shelter. I was cold, and I didn’t know how to get warm. I looked around, and there wasn’t anyone in sight. I realized that I had to walk down the path that was my own. I never had anyone to hold my hand. However, some people want people to walk in front of them, beside them, beneath, or above them. I was tired of walking the never-ending path of heavy burdens. However, my path of burdens wasn’t by choice. I was given this path, but in my dream, I had to change the direction.

I was giving permission to take off my backpack. I needed water, and I noticed I had a cup in my backpack. I also had a spile (spout) that I could use to get water out of a tree. It was getting colder and colder. I needed shelter. I looked in my bag, and there were tools to make a tent. I put my tent together after I gathered some water. I dug in my bag, and I saw some sticks. I built a fire to warm up. My dream was very interesting. It brought clarity into my life. I had all of the tools I needed to start over. However, I had to make the choice to use them. I had to put my mom’s choices behind me because I cannot change what happened.

I decided to use my high school diploma, which was my tool to make a better

life for myself. My diploma is my way out. It is my ‘start over.’ Another chance at life—and I am going to take it.

A Blessing and a Curse

I had a long well-needed nap. I slowly opened my eyes and began to think that Kace’s and my life are filled with many curses and a small percentage of blessings. With that being said, I was not complaining; I would rather accept a small percentage of blessings than not be offered any blessings at all.

I stretched my arms and legs while smiling with a hint of sparkle in my eyes. I realized that I was lucky because I hadn’t fallen off the tree branch. I felt like the stars were circled around me, and the windy breeze protected me as I imagined it was a gate that prevented me from falling out of the tree. I looked down and noticed the bed of dandelions was celebrating because their magical globes of fluffiness were flowing effortlessly and so gracefully. I found myself laughing and filled with so much joy because everything looked so magical! I felt different. Maybe … no, it couldn’t be. Or maybe. No … no … The break of dawn was presenting itself. I shook my head and said to myself, No. No. Ember, you can’t get your hopes up. I would love to see the dawn break, but I do not want to be disappointed either. There have been so many chances that the break of the day tried to present its self. However, it teased me and left me with …well … nothing. For a minute there, I got a little excited. I couldn’t afford to get too excited or excited at all. Therefore, I laid back on the Grandfather Tree and looked up at the sky to see if the sun would appear. Nope, the dark cloudy skies had taken over. Yep, that sounded about right.

I began to think of the day that I saw Kace in the hospital. Dark skies were what surrounded me when I saw him. Mr. Richardson was kind enough to take me to see Kace. Nurse Hope kept her word and met me at the door. She was kind and so sweet. She had a huge neat afro, and her smile was like heaven. Before seeing Kace, she told me what had happened. Apparently, my mom had a relapse. I wasn’t surprised. As it was before, men were coming in and out of the house.

She was on drugs and was out of it. They found two men's DNA under Kace’s fingernails. They collected DNA of a man’s semen in Kace’s rectum and on his face. I couldn’t afford to cry because I didn’t want her to have a reason for me not to see Kace.

Nurse Hope told me to brace myself because Kace was badly bruised. She thought that Kace tried to put up a fight, and that was why he got beaten. In my head, all I could think of was, why would someone do that to a baby? A six-yearold. How could someone do that to anyone for the sake of the matter? I couldn’t cry. I wanted to—but I just couldn’t. However, I did put my hand over my mouth. She reassured me that all of the men and my mother had a collection of charges pending against them.

On the inside, I was so angry; however, I couldn’t show it. I had to be on my best behavior. When I was walking to Kace’s room, I took a couple of deep breaths. Before stepping into the room, I saw they had Kace’s blinds open. My lips started to tremble; I put my hands on my heart and mouth. I couldn’t go in because I couldn’t control my tears. Kace was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were beeping one after another. “Is he in pain?” I asked Nurse Hope.

The sadness in her eyes answered my question, “We are trying to make him comfortable the best way we know how.”

I ran to the nearest restroom. I locked myself in the family restroom. Drowning in my tears, I slid down the wall. I stared at the door as I quieted my mind, and I pulled out one of the notebooks Ms. Brown gave me. As I begin to write, my tears soaked the pages.

Dear Curses and Blessings,

How could there be two in one? I never knew a person could be cursed and blessed. There’s no such thing as having both. There no such thing as taking sides when it comes to blessings and curses—I always thought that a person had to pick one. I would never have made the decision to be cursed. It was given to me. Well… Kace and I apparently have been the chosen ones. We’ve been the main target. When curses shot their arrows, they hit the bullseye faithfully, without fail. Why couldn’t we have been the chosen ones for bountiful blessings? It is a blessing that Kace is alive, but it is a curse that he was in danger.

My emotions are a waterfall of never-ending thoughts of what is going to happen next. Kace has so many tubes in him—it is like he is being smothered, dissolving in webs of lies one after another. The same lies that my mother told him—she told me when I was younger. I am sure she told him she would keep him safe. I am more than sure she told the judge she had changed. Kace was coiled in a web of lies. Now he is coiled in wires to survive.

Our lives are surrounded by many curses, but I know there must be a couple of blessings to be spared. Please. I am begging you to show us some mercy. I will accept our blessings even if they are thrown at us like breadcrumbs. I will fall to my knees and scramble to pick them up one by one. When will mine and Kace’s lives be gentle as a flowing stream without any worries? Right now, I have to pack my feelings and tears away.

Cruses and blessings, please think about what I said,

Ember

I heard Mr. Richardson calling my name. Before unlocking the restroom door, I had to quietly sit in solitude. Collecting my thoughts wasn’t easy, but the echoes of silence assured me that I needed to get myself together for Kace’s sake.

I opened the door, and Mr. Richardson hugged me and told me that everything would be alright. I needed a hug, and I was happy that Mr. Richardson was there with me. We walked into Kace’s room. There were machines everywhere. Nurse Hope rubbed my back, “Ember, he is in good hands.”

I pulled up a chair and put it as close as I could get it to Kace’s bed. I leaned over and ran my hands through his hair.

I touched his bruised hand. I softly put my hand in his, “Kace, Kace, it is me, Em.”

His eyes were closed shut from the beating. His face was healing because some parts were red, but most of it was purple and almost black. I looked up at the heart monitor, and it was moving at a steady pace. He had a tube in his mouth and wires on his head that monitored his brain waves. Nurse Hope told me they found him on the floor, and they believed that after he was beaten, someone flung him on the floor and/or across the room. His fingernails were broken, and his knuckles were badly bruised as well. I agreed with Nurse Hope; it looked like Kace put up a fight. I looked under the sheet, and he had on what looked like a pull-up diaper. His legs were bruised, but I was thankful that he didn’t have any broken bones.

I whispered as I rubbed his hand, “Kace. Can you hear me? It’s me, your Em.”

A nurse came in. I looked her up and down. Her shoes were slanted to the side as she was walking. Her chubby fingers looked as though she had just eaten some spicy chips because some of her fingernails were red. She reached over to change Kace’s bandage on his left arm. She said rudely, “He can’t hear you.”

I arched my eyebrows and looked her up and down. I was about to say something, but Mr. Richardson said in my defense, “Scientists say it’s a possibility that patients can hear if they…” He looked at me and didn’t complete the sentence.

“That may be true, but it is a possibility, not a fact,” says the chubby rude nurse. She looked at us while putting her blond hair in a rubber band, “Visiting hours will be over soon.”

I took a deep breath. I was about to say something, but Nurse Hope came in right on time, “That’s true, but Ember will be staying with Kace for tonight.” She looked at me, smiled, and winked her eye, “Do you need anything? A blanket? Juice? Crackers? Dinner? Socks?”

“No, thank you. I am fine. Your kindness is very much appreciated.” I looked at the rude nurse and said, “That is something I think you should practice. You work around people who either are sick or in a bad situation. Your rudeness is not appreciated. You should take into consideration how the patients are feeling … and their family.”

She looked embarrassed. However, she didn’t say anything. That was fine with me—as long as she knew how I felt, I was okay with her being silent.

Mr. Richardson looked surprised by my comment. He looked at me, nodded his head, and smiled.

Nurse Hope walked over and gave me a hug. I had been sitting down, but I stood up and hugged her back, “Thank you again.”

She rubbed my back and hugged me tighter, “Ms. Em, you are more than welcome.”

While walking out of the room, she looked over at the blond nurse, “Nurse Bailey, I am going to reassign you to another patient. I will be covering little Kace tonight.”

Nurse Bailey nodded her head, “Yes, ma’am.” She walked out of the room.

Nurse Hope winked her eye again, “It pays to be the boss.”

I smiled slightly.

“Now you get comfortable. I will check on you soon,” said Nurse Hope as she walked out the door.

I held Kace’s hand and talked to him, but he still didn’t respond.

I started to cry an ocean of tears, “Kace. I am so sorry.” I begin to choke on my words, “I was supposed … I was … I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed to have been there.” Still crying uncontrollable tears, “I am so sorry, Kace. Please forgive me.”

Kace didn’t say anything, nor did he move. However, a tear fell from his right eye.

A river of tears was coursing down my face, “Oh, Kace. Kace. Kace. Kace. It is me, Em. I am here.”

A few more tears fell from his eye.

“Kace, guess what?” I pulled out a couple of pinwheels from my bag. “I have five pinwheels that I made for you.” I put one pinwheel in his hand, and I put the others on the dry board on the wall.

I looked at Kace and saw yet another tear fall. I wondered why they were falling one by one. They reminded me of icicles. It was like on the inside, he was ice and could only release one tear at a time. I wondered if he was in pain. I pulled out my notepad. I begin to write and read out loud what I was writing to Kace.

Dear Tears,

We try to hold you in, but you disobey us. It is not easy to hide you because our eyes become watery, and you force your way out as you roll down our

cheeks. Yes, I said our cheeks. I am talking about me and my brother, Kace. I do not know how many times we pretended to smile with moist eyes. Nobody knows how many times we pretended to smile with moist eyes because nobody noticed. We were ignored. Our lives have always been displayed as sad eyes of sorrow. Tears follow us from our past and our present. To be honest, Kace and I are not looking forward to future tears because we already know it will be filled with disappointments. However, I promise you, Kace, we will cry our future tears together.

Kace, I see your tears trickle down. We have a lot in common, and one's thing for sure, our tears know our names by heart. Kace, the world does not seem to understand our pain. As icicle tears run down your face. I have drops of tears settled at the corner of my eyes, and they quickly became a flood.

Kace, tears have entangled in our eyelashes as we look through them—we see only the world for what it is, and it is blurry. We were born into a blurry world. We share a mirror of tears because what you see is what you get. Kace, I think it is time to break the curse. They say if you break a mirror, you will have back luck. Well, we’ve been cursed since birth. Therefore, it is time to shatter the glass in the mirror. We are tired of the lifeless tears. Kace, we’ve cried so many bitter tears of yesterday because tomorrow has never come. We are immune to salty tears as we drown in an ocean of tears over and over again. When will we be able to come up for air? Sadly, life dunks our heads underwater again as we cry while tears are buried beneath our sheets at night.

Our tears are just like how people see us—they are invisible. That’s okay, I see you, and you see me. Kace, we will be invisible together because it seems like our tears will never go away. Our tears have filled the ocean. I would think the ocean would favor us by now and offer us a life jacket. If not, that’s okay too because we are each other’s life jackets.

We have had many tears stains on our cheeks. Inflamed tears from hurt and red-eye. Bullets of tears from surviving the wars and battles we have lost. Tears from suffering when they tore us apart. Exhaustion tears from always not knowing how to settle our minds. Kace, we’ve cried a thousand tears, if not millions. Echoes of tears keep calling our names from the past, but we cannot look back. We have to keep pushing and moving forward. We cannot bury ourselves in our tears. Yes, it seems like we cry ‘everyday' tears. However, one day, the first tear of the day will be a tear of happiness because we will be together soon.

Until then, our river of tears that continue to keep crashing will keep us alive,

Ember

I heard someone crying, and it was Nurse Hope standing by the door with her hands filled with a blanket, food, juice, water, a book, socks, and many more things.

“I apologize. I am so sorry. I wasn’t eavesdropping. I didn’t want to interrupt you.” She walked over and put the things on the counter. “You are a wonderful writer!” she said as she quickly wiped her tears.

“Thank you for the compliment, but I do not think I am a wonderful writer. Writing down my thoughts is how I survive.”

“Oh, I see. But you have a way with your words.” She reached for some tissue, “I am so sorry. Here I am, a grown woman crying.”

“Nurse Hope, it is okay to cry.”

She pulled up a chair, “Can I tell you something?”

I nodded my head, “Yes.”

She reached for my hands and held both of them, “I was in foster care. I went through a lot. I normally do not talk about this, but it was put in my heart to tell you just a little bit of my story. Long story short, my mother was on drugs in a bad way. My teacher noticed that I was being neglected at the age of seven. I went from foster home to foster home until they didn’t have room and put me in a group home. Unlike you, I was the only child. I was raped and bullied. I tried to get away, but I was always caught. I never was adopted. To say the least, they kicked me out when I turned 18. I was homeless on the streets. I stayed in a shelter, and I got my GED in a home for runaway teens. That teen home saved my life. You know, Ember, it only takes one person to care to make a huge difference in a person’s life. After I got my GED, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I worked at a restaurant, and I went to school to be a Certified Nurse Assistant (CNA). After I got my certification, I worked in a nursing home. I saved enough money to get my own place. It wasn’t much, but it was home. I then slowly climbed the ladder and went back to school to be a Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN). Everything started to fall into place. I got a promotion, I stayed in my small apartment, and saved my money.”

She laughed and continued, “I stayed away from men. I couldn’t afford to get pregnant or in trouble. I had to focus on my future because I had a rough past. I was not trying to go back down that road. I knew that if I could prevent it, then why not? After I got my LPN, I went back to school to become a ed Nurse.”

She had a huge smile on her face and held my hands tighter, “Here I am a nurse practitioner, and I am in medical school to become a physician.” She tapped my nose, “Being a nurse practitioner wasn’t enough. I figured if it is possible to go to the top, then why not?” She had tears in her eyes, “I had so much bad luck in my past life. People never cared or listened. I told myself, once I get out of the system, I am going to make something out of my life.” Her tears landed on my hand, “I know what you are going through. Trust me. I know.” She wiped her tears, “Once again, I am so sorry.”

I was crying too, “It is okay.”

Nurse Hope pointed at my heart, “You got this. You are someone very special. Use your struggles to make a better life for yourself and Kace.”

Before I knew it, I hugged Nurse Hope. She hugged me so tight and whispered in my ear, “You are not alone. Now that you’ve met me, you or Kace never will be—alone.”

I was so engulfed in my thoughts I didn’t notice that it was drizzling. I decided to climb up the Grandfather Tree so that I could have a better view. I saw the sun peeking through the clouds. I smiled because somewhere in this world, the tides are rising high and washing away the negative tides of curses that bind my life. Somewhere the sun is sprinkling some glitter on the ocean’s surface, and in the same place, a bird’s feather is gently floating in the wind. Those thoughts alone give me faith because I know somewhere in the world what I imagine is happening precisely in that order. Therefore, I know that hope and faith do exist, and the impossible is possible.

Polar Night

A lthough I have a better view, the sun is hiding behind the clouds. Its rays of light are piercing through the clouds. I ire what sunlight I can get because the sun never shines in my neck of the woods. One thing’s for sure, with what little light I receive from the sun, I am enjoying the sun embracing my skin. The air smells so fresh! I am loving the moment. This is serenity.

I put my hands behind my head. I am enjoying sunbathing in the sun. I closed my eyes and think about the week I stayed with Kace. I made him so many pinwheels. The faculty and staff noticed the rooms were full of pinwheels, and they decided to make some pinwheels too. Kace had many downs, but what counted the most was when he opened his eyes. I was reading him a poem I wrote.

Dear Pinwheel,

Your best friend Kace needs you. He is counting on you to give him the strength to make it through. I know you know, just as I do, that he loves you so much! And I know you love him too. He needs you to turn his luck around. I know you can do it—I believe in you. Kace is so innocent, so precious; he has a huge heart! Speaking of his heart, when he blows you, he always closes his eyes and blows with all of his might, and then he opens his eyes to see how fast and how long you will spin. He needs your cups on the pinwheel to be filled with a lot of love and hope. Not only does he need them to be filled, but we are asking that each cup is overflowing with love!

Kace needs the red pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of courage. Kace needs the pink pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of extra love and tenderness. Kace needs the orange pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of perfect health, balance, change, happiness, and warmth. Kace needs the yellow pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of sunshine, enlightenment, and optimism. Kace needs the green pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of renewal, safety, and harmony. Kace needs the blue pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of serenity. Kace needs the purple pinwheel to be filled and overflowing with the energy of everlasting wisdom.

I know you will not let Kace down,

Ember

“They will not let me down, Em,” said Kace slowly, his eyes wide open and smiling at me.

“Kace!” I hugged him.

He reached for me with open arms, “I knew you were here, Em.”

I had tears in my eyes, “Really?”

He nodded his head, “Yep. I heard you. You were reading and talking to me.”

I couldn’t control my tears.

“Cry baby, Em,” said Kace. He continued, “I ed everything, Em.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” I said, slowly trying to control my emotions.

He nodded his head again, “Yes, we do. I want to tell you.”

I held his hand tight. An officer walked into the room. Nurse Hope and Mr. Richardson were there as well.

He looked at the officer, “Are you going to get the bad guys?”

The officer clears his throat. I could tell he was caught off-guard, seeing that Kace was basically a baby. “Yes, Mr. Kace. I am.”

Kace had joy in his heart. He giggled, “I am not a Mr. I am just Kace.”

We couldn’t help but giggle.

Kace looked at me. Then he looked at Nurse Hope, “Could Em get in the bed with me? I would like to share my bed with her.”

“Sure,” says Nurse Hope.

I hopped in the bed with Kace.

He lifted up his blanket and sheets, “Get under the covers, Em.”

I got under the covers.

He lay on his left side (his back was turned against everyone else), turned to me. I put my hand in his and Kace looked me directly in my eyes, “Em. Momma said she was going to be good to me. She promised.” He started to cry, “She lied.” He played with my fingers, “She left me in the house alone. It was dark for days and days. I was so hungry, and I was cold.” He put my hand on his heart while his other hand was on resting on top of mine, “Momma hurt me. She let her friends hurt me too. I tried to run under the kitchen sink, but she pulled me by my legs. I was kicking and screaming, no, Mommy, no! I’ve been a good Kace!” He couldn’t catch his breath. There was silence for a moment, then Kace continued, “I was trying to hold on to the stuff that was under the sink, but she bit my leg, and I screamed.” He lifted the covers and showed me the bite, “See.”

I nodded my head, “I see it, buddy. I am sorry. I wasn’t there.”

Tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, “I called your name, Em. I was yelling your name. Momma yelled, “Your Em is not here!” He wiped his face, “Then she slapped me.”

I helped him wipe his tears, “I am so sorry, Kace.”

Kace wiped my tears too, “I did what you told me to do. I scratched Momma and her bad friends.” He wiped his eyes again and held onto my hands, “They hurt me, Em. Momma let them do it. I was fighting, but I was too weak. They hit me everywhere, and it hurt. I yelled Momma’s name so she could help me, but she yelled at me and told me to shut up.” He looked me in my eyes, “Em, one of her friends told Momma my butt, but he said the bad word, was worth onehundred dollars. He threw the money on the floor. Momma crawled to it, and he dragged me in the room and …”

“It is okay, Kace …” I rubbed his hair, “It is okay. You don’t have to talk about it right now.”

His lips turned up as teardrops rolled down his lips and chin, “No, Em. I want to get it over with. He put his bad parts in my behind. I screamed for Momma, and I screamed for you. He slapped me … and then he … and then he punched me in the face and all over my body.”

I wiped his eyes.

“Momma had another friend, and he did the same thing. He put his bad part in my mouth, and white stuff came out of his bad part, and it seemed like a waterhole because he sprayed it on my face. I was fighting him and saying no … no … no … and he punched me too.”

Kace rubbed my face with his little hand, “Don’t cry, Em.”

“I am so sorry, Kace.”

I hugged him, “Kace, I am so sorry. Please forgive me.”

He put his little arms around my neck, “I love you, Em.” He whispered loud in my ear (everyone heard him), “I do not anything else that night.”

“It’s okay. You are safe, Kace … you are safe.”

He smiled. I wondered how he could smile, knowing what he’d been through. It was hard for me to smile back, but I managed to force a smile on my face.

“I know I am safe because you are with me.” He pulled my head close to his and whispered, “Em, please do not ever leave me again.”

I knew I couldn’t say I wouldn’t ever leave him. I looked at Mr. Richardson. He nodded his head. I smiled at Kace, “I promise. I won’t ever leave you again.”

He put his bruised hand on my cheek, “Thank you, Em.”

I kissed his forehead, “You got it, dude.”

He smiled, wrapped his arms around me, and dozed off to sleep.

Later that evening, they took the machines off Kace. He slept a long time. I believe he knew that he was safe.

I wrote in my notebook. My hand was shaking, and my tears soaked the pages.

Dear Polar Night,

It seems like the darkness will never shed any light. It is like the night skies have layers of darkness when it comes to Kace and me. I mean, the sun isn’t rising at all in our life. The darkness has a way of making things difficult for us. We are supposed to sleep during the dark, but we are always awake because we have to always be on the lookout. Will the midnight sun rise? We will accept part of the sun disk. Just a little bit will be okay with us. They will be just enough light for us to see what’s next on our life’s path. However, selfishly we do not have a sunset or sunrise in our life. The clouds and the fog keep the sun isolated—how long do you think Kace and I will be able to endure such treatment? I hope one day the polar night will run its course, and the white nights will shed more than 24 hours of light. I know the sun will not be visible—that is okay. We will accept the white nights if we cannot have the sun. We would be more than happy to take whatever light is offered.

Wishing on Pinwheels and Dandelions until the break of dawn,

Ember

A week later, Kace was discharged. Before leaving the hospital, Kace’s room and his unit were filled with blue pinwheels! It was like pinwheel heaven! I wondered why they picked the color blue. They say they thought it was pretty interesting that Kace loves pinwheels because blue pinwheels represent innocent children and symbolize Child Abuse Prevention.

As I was wrapped up in my thoughts, I noticed the sun continued to peek through. I stood up on the branch of the Grandfather Tree. I put my hand over my eyes and used them as a visor. Wow! I couldn’t believe it! The sun was coming out! The sun was smiling at me! I climbed down the tree. To my left were blue skies. I ran to see the cloudless sky! I jumped up and down because the sun came out! The warmth on my skin made me realized that the break of day has finally come!

Orphan Soul

T he sun was coming out, and oh my gosh, it felt good on my skin! I spun around in circles as I took advantage of the warmth of the sun! I ran over to the bed of dandelions and made myself at home. I closed my eyes and blew a couple, and then I laid in the bed of dandelions while the dim sun massaged my skin.

I reached for three dandelions and put them on my chest. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, smiled, and began to think of the day Kace and my lives unexpectedly changed.

I was so nervous because I didn’t want to leave or lose Kace again. My hands were sweaty, and my eyes were blurry. I had a headache because I was so stressed. My mind was roaming a trillion miles per hour. I promise Kace I would never leave him again. All I could think of was—what am I going to do?

“Ember and Kace, wait in the waiting room for a quick second,” said Mr. Richardson.

I was playing with my fingers, and my heart was beating so fast I broke out in a cold sweat.

“Are you okay, Em? said Kace, limping over with a bunch of blue pinwheels in his hand.

I picked Kace up, “Try not to walk so much. We want your leg to heal.” I nodded my head, “I am okay.”

He used his shirt to pat the sweat off my face, “Don’t worry, Em, they are going to put us together.” He blew his pinwheels, “All you have to do is just believe, Em.”

I nodded my head and said to myself, if it was just that easy.

Kace gave me two of his pinwheels, “Here. Close your eyes, make a wish, and blow softly and watch the magic happen.”

I closed my eyes, made a wish, blew the pinwheel softly, and waited on the magic to happen.

“Just wait and see, Em. I told myself when all of those machines were on me that I believed in magic and...” he moved his fingers as if they were little stars bursting in the sky, and his eyes widened, “miracles.”

He laid his head on my chest, “Em, you have to believe too. If more than one person believes, it will come true.” He looked at me, “Do you believe, Em?”

I kissed him on his forehead, “Yes, buddy, I believe.”

He put my hand in his, “No, Em, do you really? I mean, really, really believe?”

I tickled him, “Dude, I really, really do believe.”

“I am glad you believe in a sprinkle of magical dust and miracles,” said Nurse Hope, leaning on the door.

Kace reached for Nurse Hope. She picked him up and sat beside me, “How would you all feel about staying with me for a while?”

I quickly stood up, “This isn’t funny.”

“It wasn’t intended to be funny,” says Nurse Hope.

I put my hand over my mouth and nose, “Are you serious?”

A smile bloomed on Nurse Hope's face, and endless tears gently fell from her eyes, “Yes, I am serious. Only if you will accept me as your foster mother?”

I realized right then and there not all tears are meant for mourning. I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say. My tears spoke for me.

Kace smiled, “I told you, Em, all you have to do is believe.”

“I hope your first tear of today is joy,” said Nurse Hope reaching out her arm to me while Kace was still in her lap.

I fell into her arms, “Yes! Tears of joy, and I feel like it is too good to be true that the sun is finally rising.” I instantly felt loved.

“I filled out the paperwork. However, I want to say this is not permanent, but we are not going to worry about that. Let’s take it one day at a time. Right here and right now is all that matters,” said Nurse Hope, nodding her head.

I nodded my head, “Okay.”

Kace nodded his head too.

I hugged Nurse Hope, “Thank you. Thank you so much. I will be on my best behavior … and I will make sure Kace is on his best behavior too.”

While Nurse Hope hugged me, she said, “I want you to be you, Em.” She looked me in my eyes, “I want you to find Ember.” She pointed to my heart, “I want you to find the real Ember in there … wherever she may be. I want you to focus on being you. You are a wonderful young lady with many talents. I want you to grow, love, learn, and just be.” She tapped my nose, “You.”

She smiled, tilting her head, and looked at Kace, “… and I want Kace to be Kace. I want him to be the six-year-old he is supposed to be.”

Her facial expression changed. I couldn’t read it. “Ember and Kace, I want you all to know something about me. You might not like it, but it is a rule of mine every single day.”

My heart dropped, and Kace looked worried.

“I love to give out hugs. I am a hugger, and I love to hug the people I care for and love every single day!”

Kace giggled, “That’s it?”

She put her hands in the air, “Yep, that is it!”

“I love hugging the people I love too,” said Kace as he hugged me and reached for Mr. Richardson and Nurse Hope. He continued, “All I want to be is—loved.”

We all were spreading a lot of hugs, laughs, and for the first time, I didn’t have any fear. I felt strange, but it was a wonderful feeling that my shadow had left, and the darkness had been shredded in my and Kace’s life.

“Before heading home, how about we get something to eat?” suggested Nurse Hope.

Kace nodded his head and was dancing to the music in his car seat, “That sounds good to me!”

“What do you all have in mind?”

I was sitting in the front seat. She had a fancy and elegant car. I kept my hands to myself because I was too scared to move. I didn’t want to scratch her leather seats or anything.

“Why are your muscles tight, Em?” asked Nurse Hope. She continued, “Loosen up.”

“I do not want to mess up your car.”

She pulled the car over in a nearby gas station, “Ember. I know this is different. It is different for me too, but we are going to get through this together. Deal?”

She put her hand out. I nodded my head and put my hand in hers, “Deal.”

She smiled, “Okay, now loosen up.”

“Heeey … come on! You two didn’t let me in on the deal,” says Kace with his eyebrows arched.

Nurse Hope and I had a good laugh.

She held her hand out, “One for all and all for one. Is that a deal, Kace?”

Kace little voice sounded so cute, “Deal! Deal! Deal!” He put his tiny finger on his chin, “We need a handshake … a handshake for only our family.”

Kace said, ‘Family.’ I didn’t want him to get his hopes up, but I didn’t want to ruin his happiness, either.

“What do you suggest?” asked Nurse Hope.

“How about … hmmm. It is not a handshake, though. I think we should ball one fist, put it on our heart … and then cover the fist with our other hand.”

“Okay,” I said, looking confused.

“Oh, Em. You didn’t let me finish.” He continued, “The reason why we put one hand on our heart is because our fist a rock. It is solid, and that means our family won’t be able to break. A lot of fists hit me, and I think if we use a fist for something good, it …” He looked at me and started to cry, “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think it is a good idea!” cried Nurse Hope.

“I do too!” I said as I wipe Kace’s tears.

“Our fist is a rock, right?” asked Nurse Hope.

“Yeah,” said Kace, rubbing his eyes.

“Well, since it is a solid rock and we can say it is our foundation as a family. Nobody can break us up, and we will always be a family covered in love no matter what happens,” said Nurse Hope, wiping her tears.

Kace nodded his head and said softly, “Yeah … yeah. I like that.”

I had tears in my eyes too, “I love it.”

We all put our fist on our hearts, covered it with the other hand, and looked at each other. Kace whispered, “I love you guys.”

I never went out to eat before … well, only digging in trash bins. We went to a vegan restaurant, and it was so delicious. Kace ate his dessert in the car and spilled it on Nurse Hope’s seat and floor mat, “Oh no!” cried Kace. He continued, “I am so sorry. Please. Do not take me back. Please.” He started to cry, “Pretty please. I am sorry.” He put his hands over his head. He rocked back and forth, “Now you do not love me anymore. I am a bad Kace.”

Nurse Hope pulled the car over again. She got out of the car, unbuckled Kace, and held him in her arms, “It is okay. You made a mistake.” She continued, “Shhh... Shhh. I won’t ever take you back. We are a family.” She put her fist on her heart and smiled. Kace was breathing hard, but he put his fist on his heart. He looked at us, “I love you guys.”

We went to a car wash and cleaned out the car. It was so much fun! After we had cleaned it out, Nurse Hope and Kace washed the car. I stayed in the car and wrote in my notebook.

Dear Orphan Soul,

I never thought it is was easy to wipe away your tears when you are used to crying endlessly on the inside. Today was the first time ever that I felt a sense of relief. I laughed for the first time in a long time, or maybe my first time ever. I used to think I was permanently damaged, but Nurse Hope told me that it is okay for me to be myself. However, I do not know who I am. All my life, my mind and actions have been like loaded guns. I never knew when or where the bullets were coming from—most of the time, they came from someone else, and sometimes they came from me. My eyes are wet with tears as I write because of my life struggles. Sadness still remains because Nurse Hope says this is not permanent. Well, to give myself hope, nothing lasts forever. Therefore, nothing in life is permanent. Right? I am an orphaned soul. Nurse Hope's love reminds me of the ocean’s tide. It is a cycle of crashes as it knocks against the stones and shells as it gradually rolls up on the shore. I wonder if her love is going to say farewell to Kace and me as it sucks and pulls itself back into the ocean. Well, we’ve been washed up since we’ve been born. I hope instead of the tides sucking Nurse Hope's love away, I hope it sucks up our memories as they fade away with the tides, never to be found or returned again.

Nothing is permanent,

Ember

We pulled up to Nurse Hope's house, and it was huge! She had a long driveway that seemed like it was leading us to another road. I loved the color of the oysterwhite brick. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Her lawn was very well manicured, and there were lights in the grass. I had never seen anything like it. She had a spacious porch, and she had windows that looked like they were coming from the ground. It was unbelievable.

“Wow! This is your house?” asked Kace, shocked.

“This is our house,” said Nurse Hope. She was talking to something as she asked it to cut on the lights and open the garage.

“Who are you talking to?” asked Kace.

Nurse Hope laughed, “It’s a system that is hooked up to my car, house, and phone. It turns on my lights and things of that nature. That way, I won’t have to walk into a dark house.

“That’s super cool!”

We walked into the house, and good God, the entryway had so much space. There were white wood floors. “White wood?” said Kace.

“It’s called Bellawood,” Nurse Hope told him.

Kace squeezed his eyes, “Woooow. Is this real? Are we going to stay in this house?”

Nurse Hope smiled, “Yes, sir.”

Kace touched the floor. He laid on it and pretended he was making a snow angel.

“Here. Let me help you up and show you around.”

“Please. Can I lay right here? Pretty please,” asked Kace with his eyes closed.

“Sure, why not?” replied Nurse Hope. She looked at me, “If you like Ember, I would like to show you around.”

I nodded my head, “Sure. I would like that. Thank you.”

We walked into a spacious room. “Wait … wait … wait on me.” We heard Kace’s little feet running, “I do not want to be left alone or, worse, get lost.”

“This is the family area,” said Nurse Hope pointing at the room.

The theme was white and cream with a tad bit of green. Well, the plants were green. The room smelled so fresh. I loved the windows. It made the front yard look huge! We then walked into the kitchen. Everything was stainless steel. Again, the theme was white. There was a huge granite island. It had four white stools on each side and a gigantic light just above it. The stove had, I do not know how many burners. The countertops were so spacious. I had never seen anything like this before.

“Where is your refrigerator? asked Kace.

“Right, here,” said Nurse Hope, opening a long refrigerator door that looked like a long cabinet.

“Are you hiding your refrigerator?”

We laughed.

“No, I wanted it this way,” Nurse Hope told him.

We walked into the dining area. Again, the theme was white, and it was beautiful! I looked out the window, and her backyard had a playground. “I didn’t know you have children?” I asked.

“Well, I didn’t, but I do now.”

Kace giggled, “Is the playground for me?”

She picked Kace up, “Sure is!” She looked at me, “It is for Ember too!” I smiled.

“Can I go play, please! Pretty please!” asked Kace excitedly.

“Not today; you have to get better first,” said Nurse Hope.

He held his head down, “Oh. Okay.”

“I tell you what. How about we all slide down the sliding board one time … and one time only,” said Nurse Hope bending down to Kace’s level.

“What do you say, Em?” asked Kace, holding his hands together. Impatiently waiting on me to respond.

“Well … why not,” I said, tickling him softly.

“Yaaay!”

We walked outside, and goodness, it was like heaven. She had a fire pit and a built-in stove, and a pizza oven. There was a huge TV hanging in the corner, and there was red and brown furniture on her back porch. The grass was emerald green and smelled so good! She had a nice size infinity pool and a little house in the back.

“Can we make pizza one day?” asked Kace.

“We sure can!”

You have a TV outside? Kace asked.

“Yes, when I want to take it easy and enjoy the weather.”

“It doesn’t get wet from the rain?”

“Nope. It is protected from the rain.”

‘Oh, so is your furniture?”

“Yep. They are protected too.”

He pointed at the little house, “What’s in the house back there?”

“Kace, you are asking too many questions,” I said.

“Oh, no, it is okay,” said Nurse Hope. She continued, “It is a small house. Here let me show you.”

“A small house? Why do you need a small house if you have a huge house?” asked Kace, looking curious.

“Just in case I have a guest, or maybe one day, Em might want to have a sleepover or something. Who knows?”

I smiled.

“Oh, okay. Well. I wouldn’t want to stay in there alone. I would be scared,” said Kace.

We walked into the little house, and it was a home! It had a kitchen, bathroom, nice little living area, and a reading area as well. I looked up, and there was a stairway.

“Go ahead, take a look,” said Nurse Hope.

I walked up, and there was a huge room. I turned on the lights, and it was lovely

—so colorful, beautiful, and very spacious. It had a queen-size bed and a roll-out bed as well. When I laid on the bed, I looked up, and the ceiling was made of glass. You could see the night skies! “This is amazing,” I said with so much joy in my heart.

“It is, huh,” agreed Nurse Hope. Sadness filled her eyes, “I come here most times to think about my life. Where I came from and how I got here.”

“No … no, I don’t want you to be sad. I don’t want none of us to be sad,” says Kace. He quickly said, “Let’s go slide down the sliding board!”

We walked outside, and we all slide down the sliding board. It was fun, actually. We laid on the cool grass and looked up at the sky, with its pink and purple hues.

We walked into the house, and I noticed it had a staircase in the front and the back of the house, which led us to an upstairs hallway.

Nurse Hope opened a door on the left, “Here is the guest bathroom.” It looked like a spa. I loved how she loves plants! She opened another door, “This is my room.” We walked in and, oh my gosh, it was huge! She had a California King bed, a reading area, and an enormous walk-in closet.

“Geesh, you can get lost in here,” said Kace, standing and looking all around.

The hallway was like a square with a balcony overlooking the main floor. She showed us another bathroom, then she opened another door, “Ember, this is your

room. I hope you like it.” It was breathtaking. I stood there and ired it. It wasn’t my permanent room, but it was for the moment, and that was all that mattered. I had a white king-sized bed, white furniture, white oak wood floors, a reading area, a built-in bookshelf—and the windows were huge! I opened one of the two doors in the room, and it was the bathroom. It was ridiculously huge! I had a soak-in tub, a nice shower, and the tile was white. It was so beautiful! I opened another door to a walk-in closet filled with clothes. I looked at Nurse Hope, “Are these my clothes and shoes?”

“She nodded her head, “Yes, but if you do not like them. We can take them back, and you can get what you like.”

I shook my head, “Oh no, I love them!”

I opened the big dresser that was in the center of the closet, “Oh wow, I have clean underclothes and comfy socks!” I was so excited, “Is this real?”

Nurse Hope was smiling, “Yes, it is.”

I touched the bed, “This is a real bed,” I continued, “I never had a bed of my own.”

I ran over to Nurse Hope and hugged her so tight, “Thank you so much.”

We walked into Kace’s room. It was painted in his favorite color.

“How did you know my favorite color was blue?” asked Kace.

“Em told me.”

He ran over to his bed, “I have two beds?” He put up two fingers, “Wow, I never had two beds …”

He opened his closet, “I have a lot of clothes too!” he continued with excitement, “What is behind this door?” He opened it. “No way, a room full of toys!” He jumped up and down, “No, way! A room full of pinwheels!”

“Yes, way,” said Nurse Hope.

“All of these toys are mine?” asked Kace, pointing at himself.

“Yep. All yours,” answered Nurse Hope.

He walked into his bathroom, “I have my own bathroom too? Wow!”

“I have one rule for you,” Nurse Hope told him. She kneeled down to Kace, “Do not take baths alone. Ember or I will run your bathwater, and Em will take you a bath. Deal?”

Kace nodded his head, “Deal.”

That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept pinching myself as I continued to asked myself over and over in my mind, was this real? I couldn’t help but think she knew all of this time that she was going to take us in. I thought that was very nice and so kind of her to have everything prepared for us. Nurse Hope really took her time to make sure everything was perfect. When she asked me about myself and Kace, she really listened. It showed, because our room and clothes fit us to a T. It was so wonderful of her to buy Kace a playground and a closet full of toys. I think I can speak for both of us because I had never seen Kace this happy, ever. As for me, I was filled with so much happiness.

I felt like I was in a dream that was too good to be true. Just last week, people wanted me to live life, but I couldn’t because I didn’t know how to love. Well, I only knew how to love Kace. I did not want to get my hopes up, but I wanted to have faith as well. I calmed my nerves because I couldn’t help but think what it would be like if … if … Nurse Hope was our mom. My skin had goosebumps just thinking about it. I would not talk to her about it because I knew I was moving too fast, and it just might be a deal-breaker. I did not want to scare her off and make her feel like she was obligated to … you know what … Ember, do not overthink it, just take it one day at a time! I do not know how to love anyone but Kace. However, over this extremely short period of time, I found myself having so much joy and respect in my heart for Nurse Hope. She was not doing this for show—there was no way … not all of this. She had practically rearranged her whole house … what am I saying? Nurse Hope had rearranged her whole life for us … If that’s not love—then I didn’t know what love was.

I would never have thought I could love anyone other than myself and Kace— but I felt a sense of warmth when I was around Nurse Hope. It was not forced; it was so free and natural. I believe that is what love feels like. I shook my head and smiled, yeah … yeah … yeah, that was love—genuine and free.

I wondered if the storm was over. I didn’t sleep in the bed that Nurse Hope worked so hard to prepare for me. I sat on the floor, looked at the stars, the moon, and wrote in my journal.

Dear Shift in the storm,

This is abnormal, but I love how the clouds are shifting in my life. I noticed the lens flare as the clouds drift away. I used to think I was better off because the storm was the storyteller of my life, and I thought it was here to stay.

Now that the clouds are finally drifting away, the scattered light is awaking my soul to a brighter day. I use to be so lost, but Nurse Hope's kindness is helping me find my way. Her actions have made me realize that love doesn’t cost a thing and that I want more out of life. I know that it is possible.

Dear shift in the storm, would you take my complex memories with you? Therefore, curiosity will not enable me to continue to think of the ‘what-ifs.' If you can, would you do me the honor of shrinking my and Kace's memories? Could you void them as they shrink in the fading light? There’s no need to expand what we are trying to do away with.

May you melt our frozen tears? If not, could you please make them invincible in the light? Could Kace and I become intangible as our old life disappears in the shift of the storm? We’ve had more than our share of fragments—and we are ready to be set free. For far too long, we’ve reached our breaking point.

Dear shift in the storm, could you wash away our fears and wash us whole— as we step into our new life? Let there be no more secrets and lies, for Kace and I have endured enough. We are ready to shed our skin, and we are most certainly ready for our new beginning. I feel the change because the tear stains on my face have left their footprints for me to walk into a new world. During this shift, I am going to be still because I know when the storm is over that I am going to be alright.

I no longer have to be selfish for all the wrong reasons,

Ember

I quickly snapped out of being disconnected from the world. However, my mind started to think of the day we moved in with Nurse Hope. That was one of the best days of my life. Lying in the bed of dandelions, I had so much joy in my orphan soul and heart because that was the day Kace’s and my life changed. That day, I was flooded with happiness. I finally realized there is no such thing as ‘one-sized love’ when it is not given from an act of selfishness.

Willow Tree

I decided to walk to the willow tree that I walked past a couple of hours ago. Maybe it was just my imagination, but this park is magical. Each step I take made it impossible not to believe in the good in life. I bent down to smell a couple of wildflowers that were surrounded by weeds. I noticed regardless if they are surrounded by weeds, they still grow, and they are so colorful because there isn’t anyone to intervene with the process of Mother Nature. They know what to do. It comes naturally. I think everything should happen naturally, but that is impossible because humans are good at interfering with the natural process of life. They fuck it up, and that is why things are so complicated. They think they know what is best, but in reality, they are just in the way. They make things worse than they should be. If human beings just let nature take its course, I believe we would have more happy people in the world … as opposed to people who suffer by the hands and actions of someone who has fucked up their life. Then they have to figure it out alone—regardless of age.

I stood in front of the willow tree. It was so beautiful. I read about a willow tree, and to be honest, it reminded me of myself. We had a lot in common. I felt pity for the willow tree; although its roots were shallow, it gave people hope. However, I did not think people appreciated it. It reminded me of life—you could be good to others and help them get ahead and give them hope, but when it was their turn to return the favor, they were nowhere to be found. Therefore, your core and roots were shallow and weak. All because you gave someone comfort and hope. Wow … I stood there shaking my head because a lot of people in the world suck. They are awful and very selfish people. They failed to realize they didn’t do it all on their own; they had help along the way. However, they forgot about the soul of a willow tree.

I saw the sun beaming through the willow tree. Its rays penetrated my skin, and

it felt so vibrant and renewed. I took off my socks and shoes. I happily let the grass massage my feet. I grounded myself while my feet gave themselves to nature. Mother Nature exfoliated my feet as she removed and shed the surface layers. I felt re-energized from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. I stretched my arms wide open as I accepted the energy and vibration of the sun’s rays. I closed my eyes and imagined it lifting me off the ground while I was being recharged.

I listened to the silence of nature. The willow tree was near a small body of water, and its leaves looked like it was weeping. I touched it gently and reminded the willow that she was not alone. I took out a small piece of paper and began to write.

Dear Willow Tree,

You are not alone. I, too, have the soul of a willow tree. I have shallow roots, and I am brittle. Although it doesn’t matter to me if I am near water or not, water tends to lead the way in my life. I follow my tears as they reassure me that one day life will be better than it was yesterday. However, just like you, I love the sunlight, and the open space is a compliment. When I am in an open space, it makes me feel alive. However, I am used to being in confined spaces, and I am quickly swallowed up by sorrow. What once was sunlight becomes shaded, and my shadow takes over—and smothers me in despair.

Weeping willow, why does your soul cry? You are so beautiful and free. Oh, I get it; you are just like me. Looks can be deceiving. If someone sees me right now, they wouldn’t believe my story. They would call me a compulsive liar. Maybe they would think I was the kind of girl who wants pity and attention for no reason. If only they knew. We do not yearn for their pity. Maybe their help, but not their pity. What can pity do for us? Nothing. We most definitely do not want their attention. Strangely, they give us attention when we do not need or want it. They pay attention to us as they look

through their car windows and roll up their window before they arrive at the stop sign or red light. Then they stare at us and wonder to themselves, how did they get here? Pathetically they judge us, thinking we did this to ourselves. Like I just said—they are quick to show pity and give us the wrong kind of attention by judging us. I know you understand where I am coming from. They do the same to you as well. They ire your beauty but fail to realize you are trying to survive. Yet they do not pay any mind that the water is nearby and your roots are shallow and brittle.

Just like you, my ‘leaves’ emotions and thoughts are brittle. I notice your greenish-yellow color. I am full of wonder, and at the end of the yellowish color, it has formed a paler green color at the bottom. Are these your emotions as well? I, too, wonder a lot in my mind. You know I am a wanderer because I have been to too many places and seen a lot of things. It reminds me of the twigs that are connected to your leaves. I am connected to a lot of places and people—for both good and bad.

Right here and right now, I feel your energy, and I believe we both feel safe and loved. I understand you, Ms. Willow Tree, because I, too, have the soul of a willow tree. Therefore, you are never alone, and you never will be.

Ember

I dug my feet in the dirt and relaxed as I thought of the restless nights Kace and I had at Nurse Hope's home.

Days have ed, and it has been very challenging for Kace. However, I was so happy that I was here to comfort him. Although we were so happy to see and know we have our own beds, we slept together on the floor downstairs. I never thought it would be difficult to sleep in a bed. It seems like a foreign place. I

guess that it is how it feels, knowing you never had anything. Now, all of a sudden, the world has given it to me unexpectedly because of a tragedy and almost death.

Weeks ed, and we still slept on the floor. I noticed Nurse Hope bought us an air mattress. That was nice of her. She didn’t pressure us to sleep in our beds— she told us things will change within time.

Nurse Hope and I sat outside on her patio many nights, and she told some of her story in bits of pieces. After listening to her, I know she understands what Kace and I are going through. Nurse Hope has been in our shoes. They say, if the shoe fits, wear it, and she and I wore the same shoes. I do not know who had it worse.

She was very emotional when she told me she lost count of how many times she was raped by her caregivers’ women, men, and children. I could see the hurt and broken little girl in her eyes when she showed me scars from when she got into numerous fights. There were many times she thought she was going to die because the fights were so bad. It was so sad when she told me how many times she tried to kill herself. There was one time she tried to commit suicide by cutting herself with broken glass. It just so happened the cut was an inch away from her main artery. They kept her in the hospital for weeks, and then they transferred her into a psychiatric ward. All of these things happened to her before she was thirteen years old.

All of her life, she was in the system because of her mother, too, was on drugs. Just like my mom, her mom died from an overdose. They found her mom in an alley, and rats were eating at her flesh. I told Nurse Hope they found my mom with a needle in her arm. There isn’t a difference. Rodents and drugs will eat a person from inside out and outside in.

Nurse Hope said she was a runaway too. She brought tears to my eyes when she told me that she got caught up in the streets. She had a choice to go back to the group home or live on the streets. She didn’t want to go back to the group home because they drugged her with medication. Therefore, she became a prostitute, and soon after, she was a victim of sex trafficking at the age of fourteen. Her story tore my soul apart. She said she trusted her boyfriend, who was about a decade older than her, and he sold her to a pimp. The guy who was her pimp told her that he was her master. Long story short, they sold her innocent young body to every man who paid for her because her ‘master’ told all of the men that she was a ‘virgin.’ Nurse Hope said pimps get the big bucks for a virgin.

One day, she was in a restaurant, and the waiter asked her could he get her something. She knew she was forbidden to speak or make eye . However, she was forced to look like she was an average person. Her ‘master’ told the waiter to get her a glass of ice water. Nurse Hope said when she knew the waiter was walking to their table, she wrote with her finger on the glass the word HELP in capital letters. That is how she was saved.

She was a victim until the age of seventeen. After she was saved, she was put back in the system until she turned eighteen years old. I think she was brave. She didn’t have any schooling. She studied and taught herself just the same as I did. After a couple of months, she got her GED, went to college, and now she is here. She assured me that it wasn’t easy. I’m sure it wasn’t. Life is never easy for people like us—but she did it! I ire Nurse Hope.

Nearly four months had ed. Kace and I did not sleep on the living room floor, but we did sleep in the same room and in the same bed. I think soon he will make himself at home in his room, but I do not mind. As long as he is getting a peaceful night’s rest, that is all that matters.

I the day I pinched myself because I couldn’t believe that I had a pillow to sleep on. It was so warm, fluffy, and soft. I slept so well that night.

Before getting out of bed, I laid in my bed and said to myself … I have a pillow. I have my own pillow. I pulled my notebook from under my pillow and wrote.

Dear Pillow,

You are so soft. Don’t you know that you are a blessing? I have longed for you for so long, but nobody thought I was good enough for a pillow to rest my head. I look around, and now I have six pillows on my bed. Six clean pillows to choose from! I am so grateful for you, and I love you dearly. They say you cannot miss something you never had, but I’ve missed you so much. I’ve slept on many benches, concrete floors, and hard-ass mattresses without a pillow. Now I have more than enough pillows that belong to me. You put my mind at ease.

I am enjoying my quiet and restful nights,

Ember

After writing a note to my pillow, Nurse Hope walked into the room I was staying in at the moment. She hugged Kace, “So, you still haven’t slept in your bed, I see.”

“I am scared,” said Kace, hugging Nurse Hope tightly.

“What are you scared of?” asked Nurse Hope.

Kace whispered, “That my mom and her man friends are going to get me.”

“You are safe here. I promise I will not let them near you again,” said Nurse Hope, still hugging Kace.

“So, that means I do not have to whisper anymore?”

Nurse Hope looked Kace in his eyes, “You whisper because …”

Kace cut her off, looked around, and whispered, “Because I do not want my momma or her man friends to hear me.”

“They can’t hear you. They are far away from you.”

Kace shook his head and whispered, “Noooooo … noooooo … noooooo, my mom told me she could hear me from anywhere.” He continued to nod his head, “She said if I told anyone what happened, she would find me … and … and …”

“And what?” I asked, breathing hard.

“And she would kill me.”

Kace put his hands over his ears, “I can hear her.” He screamed, “Noooooo …

noooooo, I won’t tell. I won’t, Momma, I won’t!” He jumped down from Nurse Hope's lap, screaming, “No. Momma, no! Please … don’t hurt me. I am sorry. Please, Noooooo … noooooo, Momma, no!” He ran into the closet, balled himself up, and put his tiny index fingers in his ears.

I hugged Kace, “We are okay. You are okay. Momma won’t ever come near you again. I won’t let that happen. Okay?”

He looked at me with tears all over his face, “You promise, Em?”

“Yes, Kace. I promise.”

“No. Do you really promise?”

“I really, promise, dude.” I tapped his nose, picked him up, and we sat on the bed.

I reached under my pillow for my notebook. I begin to write and read what I wrote out loud to Kace and Nurse Hope.

Dear Little Weeping Willow Tree,

Why do you cry? You are in good hands. There is no need to fear. I know you are scared, but you are loved. I know it is hard to trust, but please trust me—I promise I will not hurt you. I promise I will take care of you.

Little Weeping Willow Tree, guess what? You have two people in your world who care. She let us stay in her home and showed us so much love. She has given us a sense of belonging because she’s been where we are today. She is our safety net, and we are, for sure, without a doubt protected in her care.

Little Willow Tree, do not weep. I know you have suffered, and pain seems like it follows you wherever you go. I assure you that each and every day, you are healing. It will take some time, but time always heals things. In this moment and time, Little Weeping Willow Tree, you are stronger than you were yesterday. The sun is beaming; this is just the beginning of all good things. It might seem like it is foreign, but you will get used to what it feels like to be loved. I know you and I are aliens when it comes to not knowing what love is—but love is looking you and me in the face right now. One thing's for sure, love is bigger than you and me. It spreads so wide that it covers the face of the earth, and it is endless in the universe. Do not let your thoughts hunt you. Slowly let them go because you are in the comfort of hope. I am in the comfort of hope. We no longer have to go through this alone. We are loved and highly favored.

We are covered in Nurse Hope’s love,

Ember

With tears in his eyes, Kace pointed at himself, “Am I the Little Weeping Willow Tree?”

“Are you?” I asked, smiling slightly.

He wiped his eyes, “I think it is me …” he nodded his head, “Yes. It is me.”

I hugged him, “Guess what?”

His rosy cheeks were flushed. He sniffed, “What?”

“It is me too.”

“Really, Em?”

“Yep. We both are willow trees, but we don’t have to weep anymore because Nurse Hope is our hope and strength. We are covered in her love.”

He continued to sniff, “Covered in love? I don’t feel it?”

“Love is something that you feel in your heart. Love puts a smile on your face. Love is …”

He cut me off and pointed at me, “You put a smile on my face, Em.”

I tickled him, “I sure do and always will!”

He smiled at Nurse Hope, “You put a smile on my face too.”

She smiled, holding back her tears, “Yes. I will try my best to always make you smile.”

Kace hugged us both and softly said, “I will always put a smile on your and Em's faces too.”

Later that night, we all slept in my bed. I watched Nurse Hope sleep while holding Kace in her arms. I watched Kace as one of his hands was hugging Nurse Hope and the other hand was on his ear. I pulled the cover over them and myself and went to sleep.

After the Rain

I believe the willow tree has gravitated to me as I have to her. There is something about nature that calms the soul. I know there are many secrets to the earth, and I wish I knew every last one of them. It is something … being out in nature. It is so comforting and accepting. There is no judgment ed. You are free to be yourself or whoever you want to be—it is peaceful. More so, a free will of letting everything be as it is and as it is supposed to be. I smiled as I pulled out my pen and paper. I looked around and ired the secrets of the earth. It is so beautiful!

Dear Secrets of the Earth,

You are a place beyond belief. You are home to many, but only a few are able to understand you. When the wind is whooshing, it sounds like wind chimes. When the breeze offers its sweet gestures, it opens my heart and soul to be still and let everything—just be. The sky looks like a painting. It is a limitless portrait! When the streams collide, you can see the reflection of the sea of clouds. When the wind is whistling, it calms the meadow of the thoughts that form in my mind. The night air has such a deep definition of the earthbound because everything is asleep as it is firmly attached to the earth without movement—just resting to prepare for the next day. I always wondered how a wildflower can be so soft when it is stepped on and covered by weeds. It is because the earth has covered it in boundless, endless love. I am a wildflower; there is no such thing as being tamed; we take what is given and somehow find our way. I’ve been to thirteen homes in all. Yet, I still somehow and somewhere let love shine through the darkest hours, which lead to days. However, just like the wildflower, I am still here. Dear Secrets of the Earth, what are your golden rules? Is it to just go with the flow? Love endlessly without regret? Live and learn from your mistakes?

Or is it something simple, such as continue to have faith while we reach for the stars? If so, could you give me a boost?

Thank you for your company,

Ember

There is such a sense of serenity until reality hits you unexpectedly. Sadly, I being told the bothersome news that hurt me to the core. A week after Kace’s nightly episode, he was diagnosed with having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). It didn’t settle well with me that a six-year-old had PTSD. He’s been seeing a children’s specialist to help him cope with his anxiety. Nurse Hope was such a huge help. It warmed my heart to know that someone really cared.

I when I was so happy because Kace was comfortable sleeping in his room. I was used to sleeping in my bed and room alone as well. I felt like Kace knew he was safe and that no harm would come to him. Kace did not like going to school. It was hard for Kace to make friends because his random outbursts scared a lot of his classmates and his teachers. Sadly, Kace has a lot more downs than ups, but we all are working through it together.

I am being held hostage in my thoughts. I contemplated on the day Nurse Hope went up to Kace’s school because they told us that a couple of kids were picking on him. I was angry, but I knew I couldn’t beat up a bunch of kids. When Nurse Hope and I had a meeting with Kace’s principal, school counselor, and teacher, they suggested that Kace be put in an alternative school for children who were battling depression. They said they were afraid that Kace would harm the other students because of his outbursts. I was burning up on the inside because he didn’t hit anyone—he just had a couple of outbursts here and there. It wasn’t

daily; it was more of when something or someone looked familiar from when he was traumatized.

Nurse Hope wasn’t hearing it at all, and I am so happy she stood up for Kace. She was angry when she told them that Kace had PTSD and that he wasn’t a threat to anyone in the school. They wanted Nurse Hope to sign some papers just in case Kace harmed someone. She would be responsible and not the school. Nurse Hope scared me when she slammed her hand on the documents and told them they were acting as if Kace was a mass murderer. Her lips were firm when she said, “He needs help. He needs people to be patient, kind, and understanding as opposed to being willing to throw him to the wolves.” She put her purse on her shoulder, ripped up the papers, and slammed them on the table, “You guys are pathetic and should be ashamed of yourselves! Kace is a baby who needs help, and you all are treating him like he is a menace to society.” She pointed at each and every last one of them, “You. You. And you are hopeless cases. I feel sorry for these helpless kids in your school. You all do not give them a chance. You are so quick to put your hands up after you have thrown in the towel without even lifting a finger to help them. You all are so quick to pick up a pen wanting a parent to sign papers to get your butts off the hook. What are you trying to save yourselves from? Clearly, you all do not do anything worthwhile.” She paused for a short moment, “None of you even tried to help.” She looked all of them in the eye one by one, “You are supposed to be here to help these children, not try to make your job easier. I will make sure you all are audited, and I will make sure you will be held responsible for failing these kids.” She waved her hand and told me to come on. Before leaving, she asked for Kace’s file because she decided to transfer him out of the school.

On the way to our counseling session, Nurse Hope told us to never settle for less and never accept when someone tells us that we are not willing to be helped. She looked in the rearview mirror and over at me, “People like that are miserable, ignorant fools who only give a shit about themselves. They are quick to judge and push you down lower than you already feel mentally, as opposed to reaching down to help you up.” She put one hand on her heart while the other one was on the steering wheel, “Oh, my. I apologize; I should have kept that to myself.”

I smiled, “No need to apologize.” For the first time ever, I knew we had someone in our life who had our backs. I did not think Nurse Hope heard me because she was shaking her head, about to say something else.

She stopped at a stop sign and looked at both of us, “Kace, you are good enough. Ember, you are good enough too. Both of you better not second-guess if you are ever good enough. You will always be good enough.”

Kace said, “Okay.” I was still smiling because I did not think Kace understood what Nurse Hope meant by us being good enough.

I put my hand on hers, “Thank you. We never had anyone to take up for us before.”

“I love you guys,” said Nurse Hope with tears in her eyes. She continued, “I will not have anybody talking to my babies as if you are unwanted leftovers. We are a family, and we stick together.”

I tried to say something. I wanted to, but I was speechless. I was caught offguard by the word ‘family.’ Out of nowhere, it started to rain. I knew right then and there that was the first day of our new beginning.

That same day, it was Kace and Nurse Hope's day to go to counseling together. It wasn’t a requirement for us to seek a counselor. However, Nurse Hope thought it would be a good idea for us all. I decided to sit outside under the shelter while they went to their counseling session. I looked at the rain for a while and

ired how the raindrops landed on the leaves and the concrete. I closed my eyes and listened to the rain. After a while, I wrote in my journal.

Dear After the rain,

How are you doing today? Are you angry? Are you crying? Or are you releasing what doesn’t serves you anymore? For years now, I’ve been so angry. I know you all know me by now because there have been plenty of times when you hid my tears. Memories used to linger in the raindrops. However, today, there is something different in the air. It is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I feel the light… and it is peeking in. Soon my heart will be shining bright, filled with a downpour of love and light. I feel it in my energy that Nurse Hope's love will be drenching Kace and me from head to toe. The clouds are turning dark grey. They look very familiar. They used to be clouds of grief. As the grey clouds darken, the sky turns black, but I have no fear. The rain has cleared the air and has washed away all the fears I carried along the way.

I happily and gently put my fears down because they do not serve me anymore. The thunder has shaken Kace’s and my fears—and they no longer linger on. They do not have a place in my mind anymore. As of today, the rain has washed them away. The lightning has made its mark and stuck love into Kace’s and my life. I know and have faith that it will be permanent. The heavy rain clouds are moving away slowly. When the heart rains, it is cleansing the soul. When the heart rains, hurt fades away. My heart is raining, and happy days are one step in front of me. All I have to do is take that one step that will lead me to happiness and love. I do not look back. I keep my head straight and move one foot in front of the other. I just stepped into a world of happiness.

I am drenched in love and loving it,

Ember

Later that evening, after their counseling session, it was quiet. Kace and Nurse Hope watched a movie together. I decided to have some ‘me’ time. I walked to the nearby park that was right around the corner. It had stopped raining for a little while, but I still felt the misty rain in the air. I ired the damp green grass and the lush moss. I closed one eye and imagined the tip of my finger was touching the grey clouds. While walking, I watched the raindrops fall from the leaves as they landed on the refreshing and moist earth. Strangely, the rain has always been one of my best friends because it understands my sorrow. It speaks to my soul, and it lets me know that all is well. It never lied to me because my tears expressed my thoughts to the rain—it has done the same. I walked barefoot in the rain. As I walked by a small pond—my reflection was looking back at me. The cloudy sky reflection makes the pond look like dark clouds are underwater. I know how that feels—mentally, it is a prison of dark forces tying your legs together as it refuses to let you kick and swim so that you can breathe. Instead, it drowns your thoughts with darkness and despair.

Later that evening, I sat on the bench in my room and looked out of the window. The scattered drizzle of rain that was on my window pane no longer was crying for help. It rained the whole night. I understood what the rain was saying. My tears spoke to the rain, and the rain always returned the favor.

Wow, throughout the entire day, I’ve been so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t notice that it was getting dark. I decided to walk back to my Aunt Donna’s house. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I pulled a couple of dandelions from their bed, made a wish, and thanked the universe for my adventure today!

Yesterday

W hile walking back to Aunt Donna’s house, I noticed the autumn oaks are nearly gone. Although it’s been a cool, rainy day, spring is just around the corner. I when I was uncertain about what was around the corner for me. I recall writing that about a million and one dreams that I yearned to come true. I sat near the fountain and began to write a million and two dreams that have come true.

Dear One Million and Two Dreams,

I never knew my life was precious until a selfless human being saved it. I was so used to being caught in the tides, but the moon always untangled me. The moon has always been here with me, and I am forever grateful. The stars left a trail as I follow it to a selfless soul. The night sky was darker than the deep blue sea, but I was granted a night light from the shooting stars. I made one million and one wishes on dandelions, and one of those millions of wishes came true. The never-ending sky seemed like it was falling on me. However, now the endless skies had been lifted and are filled with unlimited opportunities. My wings were clipped, but they grew back. However, they have been clipped again, and the process will continue until I free myself from my past. I made a million wishes, but none of them were on my side. I was exposed to a cut-throat life that spoke a language of hate. The emptiness in my life had more than one million questions. However, I was immune to abandon answers. Although I had one million questions, I received two million answers that were one lie after another. I walked around with one million and one brown paper bags with words written on them in different shades of ink and a dull pencil lead. I have a heavy rush in my heart because I’ve been fighting for so long, and now I can rest. When I think about it, I do not need a million wishes to come true. I feel my lips

curving as they form a smile. Once upon a time, I made a million and two wishes, and two of them came true. I have my brother and Nurse Hope in my life—Ember; how much better can life get than this?

So much better,

Ember

I folded my paper and put it in my back pocket. I slid down the steep hill. I looked at the tall clock that made me look so small. I thought to myself, time was never on my side—after all of this, it was, because it led me to the right place at the right time.

Walking back to my aunt’s house, I begin to think about the time Nurse Hope transferred Kace to a private school. He was so happy, and every day was peaceful. When we picked him up from school, he had so many stories to tell. I checking the mail. It just so happened that the envelope was open. I guess it was the moisture from the rain. Nurse Hope was paying a great amount of money for Kace to go to private school. She was already spending a lot of money for us to seek counseling as well. I found some tape and taped the envelope shut; that way, she wouldn’t think I was snooping around. I thought that was very kind of Nurse Hope.

For a split second, I returned to reality as I smiled and began to think of when I got the job I applied to at a nearby grocery store. Nurse Hope did not want me to work, but I wanted to because I wanted to help her out. However, I was saving my money to surprise her with what little help I could give. I was working double shifts and paid for Kace’s after-school activities. Soccer grew on him, so soccer it was! When Kace had soccer practice, I would complete my college essays. Every essay was on a very interesting topic. It was intriguing, and since I

love to write, it was a breeze.

On my off day, I took the bus to the library to visit Ms. Brown. She was so happy to see me, and I was happy to see her too. We hugged each other and had a nice chat about what was going on in my life. I asked her if she could help me fill out my college applications and any financial assistance and/or scholarships that I could possibly receive. Ms. Brown was more than willing to help me. I appreciate her so much. She was the first person to ever show me true kindness and treat me like a human being.

I stumbled on a rock and snapped out of my deep thoughts. However, shortly after, as I continued to walk to my aunt’s house, I couldn’t help but think; I felt like my life was heading in the right direction until … Kace wanted to visit our mom. He had his moments when he missed our mom and when he was scared of her. I did not understand. I guess that was a disorder of some sort. I didn’t want to think for Kace, but I did not want to cause him more harm than good. He was doing so well, and everything was finally aligning in our life. I didn’t want him to have a relapse. I never wanted Kace to feel like I was turning him against our mom. With that being said, I the day Kace, myself, and Nurse Hope paid my mom a visit. I didn’t want to see that lady. I didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

We drove for hours and hours until we pulled up to this huge square building. It looked depressing, cold, and so isolated. I dragged my feet because I dreaded walking into this hell hole.

“Em, does the boogeyman live here?” asked Kace.

Before I knew it, I blurted out, “Yes.”

“Ember!” said Nurse Hope quickly.

“The boogeyman doesn’t stay here. This is Momma’s home,” said Kace as he held Nurse Hope's hand.

“Kace, why are we here?” I asked.

“I want to tell Momma something.”

“What could you possibly want to tell her?”

“Oh, just something,” said Kace without an ounce of emotion on his face.

I wanted to ask Kace again why in the world he wanted to see our mom because it didn’t make sense to me. Not at all. We walked through a scary security system. I was checked I don’t know how many times from head to toe. I felt like I was a criminal. It creeped me out. We walked down a long hallway. The whitepainted bricks seemed like they were never-ending. Finally, we made it to a huge room with glass walls everywhere, officers, and security cameras. It reminded me of when I was in Juvie. There were steel chairs and tables. It was kind of cold outside, and there wasn’t any warmth in the chairs. They were ice cold. I guess the prison didn’t believe in heat.

My mom was sitting in the middle of the room with her elbows on the table. Her face was fucked up. I guess she got into a lot of fights over crack pipes. I know

they have that shit in here too. They have their ways—I have seen it in movies. Well, it is not my shit or my problem anymore.

“You are walking in here like you are better than me,” said my mom as she leaned back in her chair. She slammed her hand on the table. An officer yelled and told her to get her shit together. I was saying to myself, here we go with this shit. “You hear me, girl?” said my mom looking directly at me. I didn’t say anything. She yelled, “I don’t want you here! Nobody wants you!”

She laughed, “You are a fucking nobody, Ember.”

I took a deep breath.

“Trust me, I do not want to be here, either. I am here for Kace.”

She rolled her eyes at me and spread her arms wide, “Come here, baby. Kace, come to Momma.”

Kace didn’t move.

“Bring your ass here, Kace,” said my mom in a loud voice.

Kace jumped.

I wanted to jump up and punch her in the face while asking her who the fuck she thinks she’s yelling at!... but I knew I had to be on my best behavior—and I knew Nurse Hope was going to take care of it.

“Please do not yell at him,” said Nurse Hope while making eye with my mom.

My mom laughed, “What the hell… who the fuck are you? Their new caseworker?”

She continued, with an evil smile on her face, “Look, bitch. Don’t tell me what the fuck to do with my kid!” She pointed at Kace and me, “These are my fucking kids. I pushed them out my pussy.” She sounded like she was drunk and badly on drugs. She pointed at me and laughed, “Well, you can have that one. Nobody wants that piece of shit.”

I looked at her, “You are a mess. Always have been and always will be. I wish the best for you, Mom.”

“Don’t you fucking look down on me because you are just like me, you little bitch.” She slammed her hand on the table and yelled, “Do you hear me? You are not better than me! You are just like me!”

I wanted to slap the shit out of her, but I had to be on my best behavior for Kace. I wanted to ask Kace why the fuck we were here, but I didn’t want to make matters worse. Plus, I wouldn’t dare talk to Kace like that.

“Enough!” yelled Nurse Hope.

My mom laughed, “Who the fuck are you? Their bodyguard or some shit?”

Nurse Hope was about to speak, but Kace said, “Why are you so mean?”

My mom made a boo-boo face as if she was mocking Kace, “I am not mean,” she laughed, “You are.”

“What is funny? Do you think it is funny that you are a mean person?” asked Kace.

“I see they got in your fucking head. I guess you are not my baby anymore,” said my mom, moving her hand as she waved Kace away.

“No, I am not your baby. I am Nurse Hope’s baby,” said Kace.

He stepped back, “You are a mean person.” He kept his eyes on my mom. It was strange and not like Kace, “I do not want you to be my momma anymore.” He stood in one place, “That is what I wanted to tell you.”

I was in shock.

My mom forcefully pushed her chair back, “You put him up to this!” She looked at Nurse Hope and me, “The both of you did! You trying to steal my baby!” Then she looked at me, “Ember, you brainwashed my son.”

“No, Em didn’t wash my brain.”

“Shut up, Kace!” my mom yelled.

“You do not scare me anymore,” Kace told her as he stepped back and put his arm on Nurse Hope’s lap.

“It is time to go,” says Nurse Hope. She picked Kace up, “We are not going to sit here and be disrespected.”

My mom yelled, “Take your ass on! I know one thing; you are not going to take my baby away from me.”

Kace yelled, “I am not your baby anymore! You hurt me! A mom does not hurt their baby. I am Nurse Hope’s baby.” He hugged Nurse Hope, “I want her to be my mommy.” He hugged her tighter, “She is my mommy now.”

I now know why Kace wanted to see my mom. I thought that was brave of him. We left my mom there, yelling at the top of her lungs. When I walked out those prison doors, I felt a huge sense of relief. Nurse Hope and I drove in silence while Kace slept the entire way home.

After seeing my mom, it seems like things have gotten better. Kace hasn’t talked about it—so we have been pushing forward. I thought that maybe he wanted to talk about what happened, but nope, he has been carrying on as if nothing happened.

Nurse Hope came into my room smiling from ear-to-ear. Kace was behind, walking behind her, giggling.

I was reading when I asked, “What are you all up to?”

“The question is, Ms. Em, what are you up to?”

I tilted my head and squinted my eyes, “Okay, you two are acting weird.”

Kace put up his little finger, “Hold up sneaky, Em.” He ran out of the room.

I laughed, “How am I being sneaky when I am sitting in my room, minding my business and reading a book?”

Kace walked in with a plate of cupcakes. I slowly put my book down, “What is all of this about?”

He put up his finger again, “Hold on, give me another minute.” He brought in some milk, “We are celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?” I asked, looking confused.

Nurse Hope had something behind her back. She sat on my bed, “I am so proud of you!”

I smiled slowly, “Why?”

“Because you are smart, brilliant, and oh, did I say smart?”

I laughed, “Yes, you said smart twice.”

She had four envelopes in her hands, “Why didn’t you tell me you applied to college?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

She ed me the letters. I scooted closer to her. I held the letters in my hands. I smiled, “Wow! They are addressed to me.”

“Who else are they supposed to be addressed to?” asked Kace.

I laughed at him and shook my head, “You are too cute and something else.” I pulled out my phone that Nurse Hope got for me about a month ago. However, I pay my own phone bill because I do not want her to think I am using her. I called Ms. Brown.

“Hello, Ember? Are you okay? Is everything alright?” asked Ms. Brown.

My heart was filled with joy because I have three people in the world who care about me, “Yes, I am okay. I got four letters from colleges in the mail. I wanted to call you before I opened them, and …”

Ms. Brown cut me off. She was more excited than I was. Excitedly she screamed, “Open … open … open them.” She laughed, “My apology, I’m just so excited. Open them when you are ready.” She paused for a short moment, “Ember, thank you for calling me. I am so happy to experience and witness this moment with you. It is a pleasure and an honor.”

I was laughing and smiling at the same time, “Well, I would like for all of us to have the honor. Nurse Hope and my brother Kace are ing us as well.”

Everyone spoke to each other and had a short ‘how are you doing’ conversation.

I gave Kace one letter, the other one to Nurse Hope, and I told Ms. Brown I wished she was here to open one. Kace said he would open Ms. Brown’s letter, and she approved. I thought that was so cute of them both.

I looked over at the milk and cupcakes, “Wait, do you all know something I don’t?”

“No, but regardless. You accomplished a lot … so much in such little time. That’s something to celebrate,” Nurse Hope told me.

“I agree,” said Ms. Brown.

“Me too. Regardless, Em, you are a winner,” said Kace impatiently, looking at the cupcakes.

“Here we go.” Kace opened the envelope from the University of Chicago. He tried to pronounce the words. He was close. Nurse Hope helped him out. He pulled the letter out and read it. I waited patiently.

“Dear Ember, Con …”

I screamed before Kace could continue. I jumped on the bed, “Oh my God, Oh … Oh. Oh. My God! I got in!”

Kace arched his eyebrows and put down the letter, “How did you know you got in, Em? You didn’t let me read the letter. I didn’t read the first word. I just said con.”

“Because you said, “Con!”

“Okay, but, Em, you didn’t let me finish.” He looked at Nurse Hope and shook his head, “Em didn’t let me finish.”

Nurse Hope smiled and started laughing, “Does it say ‘Congratulations,’ Kace?”

He nodded his head, “Yes.”

She smiled, “The Con is all she needed to hear!”

Nurse Hope hugged me. I hugged her as I jumped up and down. Ms. Brown was screaming through the phone. Kace still didn’t get it.

“Okay, well. Let me read the other letter,” said Kace. He looked at the envelope, and then he looked at me, “Columbia University.” He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. He looked at me and said, “Con.” And then he put the letter down.

I screamed, “Oh, my God, I got in Columbia too!”

Kace looked at Nurse Hope, “Why do they write all of these words on the paper if the only word they need to say on the paper is ‘con’?”

We all had a good laugh! She explained it is the excitement of knowing the first

sound in a word and knowing what it says.

Nurse Hope opened my letter to the University of Pennsylvania, “Dear Ember …” she continued, “Congratulations! I am pleased to offer you ission to The University of Pennsylvania!”

I was jumping up and down and running all over the room! Ms. Brown was screaming through the phone! Kace was jumping up and down too.

I took a deep breath, “Okay... okay, last but not least.” I looked at everyone. I asked Ms. Brown if she was ready. She was so funny she stretched her yes, “Yeeesss … Yeeesss. I am ready, Ember.” I opened the envelope from Oxford University in England. I slowly pulled out the letter. It read, Dear Ember, On behalf of the issions Committee, it is our pleasure to offer you ission to the University of Oxford!”

My eyes were overflowing with excited tears! I thanked Ms. Brown for helping me with my applications and her confidence in me. I thanked Nurse Hope for being here and her encouragement. I thanked Kace for being the reason why I live and want better for myself. I thanked myself for just being … me.”

Kace ran over and started to eat the cupcakes. This was an unbelievable moment! Who would have known I would be … here?

Later that night, I wrote in my journal.

Dear Yesteryear,

I do not feel alone anymore. I have found love. Maybe I should say love has found me. Well, to be fair, we found each other. Yesterday, I didn’t have a home. Yesterday, I didn’t have a pillow where I could lay my head. Yesterday, it was hard to find peace. Yesterday, I wondered if morning would ever come. Yesterday, I was unable to love, dream, and trust. Yesterday, I didn’t understand life. Yesterday, I was walking in my shadow. I didn’t know if I had meaning or a purpose.

I am healing from my yesteryears. However, I am still rough around the edges and still have a lot to learn. I used to be so empty inside, but now I have lovely people to fill my no-longer-empty arms. Yesterday, my path was different. I was confused, not knowing if I should go right or left—move forward or turn around. I do not know what life has in store, but I know for a fact that I do not have to worry about the deadly and narrow path anymore.

Yesterday, my sun was blocked by my shadows and everything thing else that came along that didn’t serve me. However, today, the sun is shining brighter than it ever has in my entire life.

Yesterday, I will never forget you. You’ve taught me many lessons. I was taught lessons that a young person should never experience or even know about. Some lessons in life leave permitted marks. There have been many lessons I’ve learned that have left so many scars on my heart, but life goes on. I use to be overwhelmed by hate, disbelief, and not knowing if I was going to make it. Now, I am surrounded by warm hugs, smiles, love, and peace.

Yesteryear, you will never be forgotten.

I am healing, and it is a beautiful thing,

Ember

I guess my thoughts got a little carried away from me because I find myself two houses down from my Aunt Donna’s. Today was one-of-a-kind. I believe it is what I needed as I am intensely preoccupied with deep thoughts from my past. I feel like I can finally pick up the pieces and let go of my past. I now humbly accept my present, and I look forward to my future. I didn’t enjoy traveling down memory lane, but it was needed in order to move forward with my life. I cannot let what my mom did to me continue to tear me down. I cannot let her continue to get in my head. I refuse to let her past actions reflect anger and hurt in my life. After all, I am only hurting myself. When I think about it—I am the one who needs to forgive myself. It will not be easy, but I am willing to give it a try. I think it is pretty funny (not really) how Aunt Donna resides in a beautiful home and never offered to take Kace and me in.

I started to shake my head because when you are doing well, people are quick to offer their help, knowing that you clearly do not need it. She holds conversations with me as if she has always been here. Lately, she’s been so nice, telling me how proud she is of me. No thanks to her. I cannot, and I do not do well with the fakeness. I know for a fact if I was still on the streets, she couldn’t give a rat’s ass about Kace or me. I never wanted anything to do with her, and I do not want anything to do with her now. I am here because of Kace. After all of this funeral stuff is over, she will never see me again.

Life has a way of showing you how strong you are and how much you can take. They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I guess there’s some kind of

truth in that. As for me, what didn’t kill me broke me into a trillion pieces. What didn’t kill me made me bitter. What didn’t kill me caused a lot of hurt and pain. What didn’t kill me made me want more out of life. What didn’t kill me after all the shit I’d been through finally showed me mercy. What didn’t kill me brought my family and me together.

Lilac Skies

I notice Ms. Brown is here. I called her this morning and asked her could she come to my aunt’s house for . I didn’t think she would really come— well, I should have known she would. Since I’ve been reminiscing at the park all day, I wonder how long she’s been here. Well, I’m glad she’s here. I need all the I can get because I do not want to be here with the fake people.

I walked into my Aunt Donna’s house, and all eyes were on me.

“Where have you been?” asked my Aunt Donna—like she really cared.

“What do you mean, where have I been? As if you give a shit,” I said, walking past her. She brings out the worst in me. She let Kace and I suffer for no reason.

She reached for my arm, “Don’t walk away from me, young lady.”

I pulled it away, “Don’t act like you care now.”

“Have some respect, Ember!” she yelled.

I stopped in my tracks, “I do have a lot of respect.” I looked her up and down, “But not for you.” I walked into the other room. Kace was playing with some kid with blond hair. She followed me, “We are burying your mother ... at least …”

I angrily cut her off, “At least what? Act like I care? I am here for Kace.”

“You can get your disrespectful ass out of my house!” yelled Aunt Donna.

“That’s fine with me.” I looked towards the back, “Kace, come on, we are about to leave.”

Kace put down an orange truck he was playing with and held out his hand, “Okay.”

“Oh, no, you’re not. Kace, go back and play. Ember, you come with me,” said Ms. Brown.

Kace ran back to play with the little boy and the orange truck.

I walked outside with Ms. Brown. She didn’t say anything—she just hugged me. I hugged her back, “I do not want to be here, Ms. Brown. My aunt is working my nerves, acting like she cares. I feel like it is so disrespectful that she did not care, but since I am doing something with my life, she wants to act like she’s been here the entire time.”

“I understand, but try your best to get through the day. We are here for Kace, and …” she tapped my nose, “Be respectful. You are smart, and you have come too far to let her get under your skin.”

I smiled, “You are right.”

She walked back into the house, “I am going to check on Kace.”

I nodded my head. She then turned around for a moment and asked, “How many times do I have to tell you …”

I laughed, nodded my head, completed her sentence, and said it with her, “To call me Auntie Lilian … After all we’ve been through, I am not Ms. Brown.”

I walked to sit on the swing that was hanging from a branch in Aunt Donna’s yard. I closed my eyes to think of one of the best days that changed my life forever.

Months after I got accepted into all of the colleges I applied for … come to think about it; as a matter of fact, it was a week after Kace’s birthday. Nurse Hope had a red envelope filled with all kinds of stuff. We had dinner, dessert, and then we sat in the pure white room that we never went into. I knew it had to be bad news, but I was optimistic.

“Why are we sitting in the white room?” asked Kace, curious.

I didn’t say anything; I was waiting for an answer.

“I want to talk to you all about something. We have been together for a year now. I know everything is temporary … and …”

Kace ran out of the room screaming, “No … noooooo … I am not going back!”

I ran after Kace, “Kace, you don’t know what Nurse Hope is going to say.”

As tears drenched Kace’s face, he was trying to break free, screaming, “Let me go, Em!”

Nurse Hope picked Kace up and calmed him down, “Kace, it is okay. You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

He hugged her back as he soaked her shirt with his tears. He was breathing so hard to the point he could hardly speak. He wiped his eyes, “I thought I’d been a good little boy.” He nodded his head, “I’ve been a good Kace, right?” Nurse Hope was going to answer, but Kace cut her off, “I thought I was your baby.”

Nurse Hope hugged Kace and reached for me. We all hugged each other. Nurse Hope was crying. I didn’t assume anything. However, my heart was beating a million beats per second. While hugging us, Nurse Hope asked, “I want to know, will it be okay if I can have the privilege of being your adopted mother?”

I jumped up, shocked, “What! Are you serious?

Nurse Hope was crying and smiling, “Yes. I am.”

Kace hugged Nurse Hope and said, “You were already my momma.”

I jumped up and down, “Yes! It is a privilege that you want to put up with me.”

She laughed, “Come here, my good girl!”

Kace continued to hug Nurse Hope, “I love you, Momma.”

Nurse Hope wiped Kace's tears. “I love you too, Kace.”

I sat on the couch, “Will it be okay?” I didn’t know how to ask her. I played with my fingers for a moment. Nurse Hope was smiling and patiently waiting. I was so nervous, “Would it be okay if I called you Mom?”

With a face full of tears, she replied, “I would love that.”

I couldn’t control my tears. I fell into her arms, “Thank you!”

“No, thank you!”

I didn’t want to let her go, “I love you, Momma.”

“I love you too, Ember.”

Later that night, Mr. Richardson came by to pick up the signed papers. He was happy for us and wished us the best. I thanked Mr. Richardson for all he had done. He told me he was proud of me and to continue to keep up the good work. A couple of hours later, Ms. Brown came by to celebrate. We all cuddled in the family room and watched a movie. Out of the blue, Ms. Brown said, “Well, since Hope is your mother,” she laughed, “I do not have any papers to sign, but I was hoping that you all would do me the honor of being my niece and nephew.”

I jumped up and hugged her, “Really? Are you for real!”

“Yes, I am for real!”

“Auntie Brown,” said Kace, hugging our mom.

She smiled, “No, I would be Auntie Lilian.”

Still hugging our mom, “That is fine with me too, Auntie Lilian.”

I laughed because Kace is something else, “I would love to call you Auntie Lilian. I’ll have to get used to it, though.”

“So, it is settled. Two blessings in one night, we have a Momma and an Auntie. Momma was already my momma, but now we are a family that will never be apart,” says Kace. He rubbed his eyes. “ the wish we made, Em? Our wish finally came true.” said Kace as he dozed off to sleep.

It was later than we thought, and we all settled for bed. Before going to bed, I wrote in my journal.

Dear Lotus Flower,

Just like you, my roots were always latched in the mud. I envied you because you were in the dark, murky water only at night—when the daylight arose, you bloomed. Unlike you, I was submerged in nasty water every day and night, but the light abandoned me. Came the morning light, and somehow miraculously, you rebloomed, sparkling, and so clean. I sort of bloomed at night with the moonlight and stars. However, the next morning I wasn’t so lucky because the morning light was nowhere to be found. Things got better for me slowly but surely. I must say, no matter how many times our roots were in the dirtiest water, we survived. We survived because our roots provided the nutrients that allowed us to bloom. I read that a lotus flower at times only partially opens, and the center is hidden. Just like you, there were times when I slowly opened up to people. I hid my inner core because mentally, I didn’t know who to trust. However, I arose from the midst of suffering. Again, just like you, I withstood highly adverse conditions and had to repair myself mentally and physically.

Nobody knows, but you are my favorite flowers. We are unique, and we

have so much in common. Your shadowy, murky origin found enlightenment as you were on the hunt for light. I, too, was on the quest for light for many years. For 16 years, I was thirsty for light, and now my thirst is quenched. All of those years, I yearned and wanted to break free and bloom. However, I had to keep moving, growing, and believing.

My soul is no different from a Lotus flower. I didn’t start my journey in fresh water because my environment was not pleasant. Just like a Lotus flower, my life was surrounded by insects, debris, and so many unpleasant things and people. However, just like the Lotus petals are never contaminated by the murky water, my core remained pure. Just like the Lotus flower, I came from a place of suffering. However, I remained true to myself. I have overcome many obstacles in my life. I am proud of myself— because this time, I jumped a little higher over the hurdles. I have finished the never-ending race. I have officially crossed the finish line and have a fresh start! I am renewed, and I am loved!

Triumph should be my middle name because I never gave up,

Ember

Things have been better than ever. More so surreal and unbelievable. I’d been emotionally drained for so long it is foreign for me to know how to think straight. It feels so different but good. I have no worries in my life. I mean minor things, but I do not have to figure out where I am going to stay or live anymore. I have a family. I have a home. This is an amazing feeling!

Swinging on the swing, I begin to drift deeper in my thoughts. When I got the news that my biological mother had died, I didn’t care—but my mom told me my birth mom will always be my mom. She said she wasn’t perfect, but she was

my mom, and I need to respect that. In my head, I agreed to disagree.

When we were heading to Aunt Donna's house, I looked at the sky; it was a beautiful lilac color. I closed my eyes and put my hand out the window. The air is fresher than it has ever been before. I feel so light because the chapter in my life of ‘not knowing’ is finally closed.

My Aunt Donna interrupted my thoughts, “Ember, may you come in, please?”

I didn’t respond. I just followed her into the living room. She decided not to cremate JoAnne. Instead, she told me that her funeral will be next week. I looked over at Auntie Lilian and said, “Okay.” I was happy that Aunt Lilian agreed to watch Kace because she knew that I would be uncomfortable being in Donna’s house for a long period of time.

Earlier this morning, my mom dropped us off because she had to work, but she must have gotten off early. That’s not like her because she always works a full 12-hour shift. She walked into the house and gave me a hug, “Are you okay?”

I nodded my head, “Yes, I am.”

“No, she is not okay. She’s been rude and disrespectful the whole time she’s been here,” said Aunt Donna. She added, “She’s on her best behavior because the librarian is here.”

I yelled, “You stupid bitch! She is not the librarian! She is my Auntie Lilian. She

has done more for me than you ever have, and she loves Kace and me like we were her own!” I looked at the programs she was preparing for my biological mother. I ripped them apart and threw them on the floor, “You act like she was a saint! She was a sorry excuse for a mother!” I ran up to her and put my finger in her face, “And you know it!”

“Ember, that is enough,” said my mom. She reached for my arm and walked me out of the house. I was crying, “I am sorry, Mom.” I hugged her, “I hate her and my biological mom. I hate them so much.”

“Mom?” asked Aunt Donna. She leaned on the door, “I know she adopted you, but you call her Mom.”

Quickly I walked to her and was about to tell her off, but I saw Kace.

“I heard everything,” says Kace. He looked at Aunt Donna with tears in his eyes, “Do you think we should call our dead mom, Mom?”

“Yes, because she is your mother, Kace.”

“No! she hurt me!” yelled Kace.

He looked at me, “She hurt, Em too.”

He yelled, “She let her guy friends hurt me.”

He paused, “Aunt Donna, why didn’t you come to see me in the hospital?”

“I … I …” she stuttered.

“Because you didn’t care. My mom took care of me until I was feeling a whole lot better.” He dried his eyes, “I was bullied in school, and she stood up for me. She never hurt me. She never made me cry. She never hurt my feelings. She never screamed at me. She never did anything bad to me because she is my mom.”

He stomped his little feet and yelled, “Because she loves me!”

I didn’t say anything. I wanted to, but Kace had said it all.

He looked at our mom with teary eyes, “Mommy, I am ready to go.”

He walked over to her.

“Can we leave, please? I do not feel comfortable anymore.”

Mom shook her head and said, “Yes.” She made her way over to Aunt Donna, “You know my son and daughter have been through a lot. For you to be so insensitive is sickening and very distasteful.”

“Why do you care?” asked Aunt Donna.

My mom pointed at us, and then she pointed at herself, “Because they are my children, and I love them … that is why I care!”

“Come on, you guys.” Auntie Lilian looked at Aunt Donna and shook her head. My mom turned around, “The question should be, Donna—why didn’t you care enough?”

On the way home, it was quiet until Kace broke the silence, “Thank you, Mommy.”

Mom looked at him in the rearview mirror, “You are welcome, sweetie.”

I held her hand on the way home. I looked up at the sky, and it still was lilac. “Look, you guys, the sky looks like cotton candy,” said Kace.

We laughed, “It sure does.”

He licked his lips, “Hmmm.”

I shook my head and smiled because right about now, our life is so sweet and not a thing, or nobody can mess that up.

Later that evening, I sat on the front porch. My momma came out and sat beside me. I laid my head on her shoulder. She noticed I was writing. “What are you writing about today?” she asked while rubbing my hair. I asked her if she wanted to hear. She smiled, “Always.”

Dear Fire in the Sky,

I know that you know well enough what tainted love is. I wonder, is that why you destroy any and everything that crosses your path? I want to let you know that I feel your pain, but not all love is tainted. I know it is hard to trust, but sometimes we have to take a chance. There was a time when nobody could put out my fire, not even water. The wind knew my pain because it helped fuel my fire, and it spread effortlessly without even trying. My heart was bruised in ways that nobody could ever imagine. However, I survived. I’ve had many days that used to be uncertain. Now, I am exactly where I belong.

I am home,

Ember

My mom loved it. I continued to lay my head on her shoulder, and I read her most of my thoughts that I’d written out. The next day, she took the day off, and she listened to every letter I wrote. I thought that was pretty cool of her. We had a family day and stayed home the entire weekend. I felt at peace, and I know for a fact I can get used to this.

My mom didn’t make us go to our biological mom’s funeral—however, she told us that would be the right thing to do. Well, we decided not to go to the funeral, but we met my biological mom’s family at the burial grounds.

When they lowered her into the ground, I did not shed a single tear. I looked at her casket and thought to myself, she is exactly where she needs to be— underground. That way, Kace is safe, and I am safe. We do not have to worry about anyone ever hurting us again.

Kace held my hand and whispered, “Are they putting her in hell?”

He caught me off guard.

“Huh? What?” I asked.

He whispered again, “Are they putting her in hell?”

“No, they are just putting her in the ground.”

“Don’t the devil live under the ground?”

“Kace, that is what they say, but I do not know if that is true.”

I picked him up, “To be honest, Kace, in my opinion, I believe there are a lot of devils who walk on this earth. They just look like human beings.”

He whispered, “Like those guys who hurt me.”

I kissed him on the cheek and nodded my head, “Yep. Just like them.”

“I am ready to go,” said Kace as he laid his head on my shoulder.

About five minutes later, we left. Once again, the car was silent. I broke the silence this time and called Auntie Lilian. I let her know she was on speaker. I looked at Mom and Kace, “I know what college I decided to go to.”

“Really!” asked Mom, so excited.

I smiled, “Yep.”

Auntie Lilian asked quickly, “Which one?”

I was about to say something, but Auntie Lilian was so excited, “Don’t leave us in suspense!”

“Oh, come on, Em,” said Kace, looking like I was taking forever. He can be too

much at times.

I laughed and tickled him, “Geesh, you are so impatient.”

He giggled.

“I decided to go to …” I acted like I was beating a drum, “Drum roll, please.”

Kace was acting like he was beating a drum too. Mom, well, she was driving, but she made the drum noise.

“I am going to the University of Pennsylvania!”

Everyone was so excited! I was too!

“Where do you want to go and celebrate?” asked my mom, smiling.

“I want to go home.” I shook my head and smiled, “Yeah … I want to go home and spend time with my family.”

“Really?” she asked.

I had a huge smile on my face, “Yep, I am positive. I love making memories with my family. We cannot ever get time back—and memories are meant to be cherished with the ones you love.”

“Let’s make cookies, cupcakes, and brownies,” said Kace, licking his lips.

“We can only make one of the three,” Mom told him, smiling in the review mirror.

“Okay … okay,” Kace put his little finger in the air, “How about cupcakes!”

He looked at me, “Is that okay with you, Em?”

I tickled him again, “It is perfect!”

We invited Auntie Lilian over. We cooked any and everything we could whip up. We had so much fun! It was more than perfect!

Months ed, and I was heading off to college. I never knew I would be packing my bags and heading off to a university. I am so proud of myself because I have more than enough scholarships to pay for my college tuition. Wow—isn’t that something!

Before I walked into the airport, Kace hugged me, “I am going to miss you, Em.”

I picked him up, “I am going to miss you too, dude.”

He smiled, “I know, but I am in Momma’s care.”

My mom hugged me. She started to cry. I started to cry, and Auntie Lilian started to cry too.

“Wait a minute. I have something for you,” said Mom, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a lilac box with a crème bow wrapped around it. I put down my luggage, “What is it?” I asked.

“Well, open it, and you will see, Em,” said Kace, shaking his head.

I opened it—it was a thick lilac book. It was so cute. It was titled Spring has Arrived. I opened it, and it was all of the letters that I wrote from every last brown paper bag, notebook, tissue, or anything that I could write on. I cried happy tears. On the second page, it said from Momma, Kace, and Auntie Lilian. I hugged my mom, Auntie Lilian, and Kace. This was the best gift ever!

As I waited to board my flight, I looked through my book. I noticed there were more than enough pages in the back for me to write.

Dear Spring Has Arrived,

I never knew where I fit into this world. However, I trusted the unseen and dark path that led me to the sun. Here I am off to college with a full scholarship for undergraduate and graduate school. I am smiling, and it is okay because spring has arrived. I never felt complete. However, now I am whole with so much light beaming around me. I come from nothing; now I have all that I ever wanted. I have the one thing I dreamed of, and that is a family.

I come from a little to having a lot of love! I when the ripples in the water made me feel like I didn’t know who I was. Now, the water is humble and so still that I can see my reflection—I see me, Ember. I always knew who I was, but I was never able to spread my wings. I learned a lot about myself. If I could describe my character in one sentence, it would be ‘I ire my perseverance.'

They say nothing lasts forever and that the seasons constantly change— which is so true. I always yearned to have the midnight sun in my life. Spring has arrived, and I am surrounded by light. Spring has arrived, and I am surrounded by love. This feeling in my heart is one of the greatest and biggest gifts in life.

I am not walking in my shadow anymore. I am someone’s daughter,

Ember

I searched for a piece of paper to use as a bookmark. I made a mistake and dropped my book. I notice there was a bookmark attached to it. It touched my heart. I searched for a tissue and once again cried happy tears. The bookmark was an illuminated yellow golden dandelion. I also noticed on each page of my writing there were images of pink dandelions.

I made one more wish. I wished that someone who was going through what I went through would be highly favored and blessed to find a home. A family. I know it is possible because it happened to me. I thanked the dandelions and boarded the plane. I smiled as I walked on and didn’t look back because I was not going that way.

Introduction for the book In Love with Blindfolds On

L ove isn’t leaning in for a kiss, yet a fist meets you halfway. Love isn’t being a boxing bag because someone decided they wanted to beat on you today. Love isn’t saying I love you just because someone wants to keep you to themselves. Love is not a curse filled with darkness and led by fear. Love is not being afraid to walk into the unknown, not knowing if you will be alive the next day. Love isn’t being told you are not worth living, or you are not loved. Love isn’t a manipulator who grins as it thinks it has power over your thoughts and your life. Love is not losing yourself in the process as you look at yourself in the mirror, and you cannot recognize who you are. Love isn’t the bruises on your face or the scars on your back that you try to cover up. Love doesn’t steal your joy or your soul to get the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable. Love doesn’t expose your weakness for everyone to see.

Love is tender, kind, forgiving, and unconditional. When you were born, you were loved by so many people. Favored in ways that you never imagined. You never wanted for anything. Love was surrounding you, just like the sunbeam on the flowers that gives them the energy to grow. Yes, you had some showers, but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t loved—those were the times the showers were teaching you how to stand and make decisions on your own. The problems occurred when you surrounded yourself with the wrong crowd. As the saying goes, you are who you associate with.

You have lost control. Suffocating and drowning. Asking yourself, what did I do to deserve this?

Sadly, you are getting nothing in return, yet, you keep going right back to the person who you need to walk away from. Wake up from this nightmare! There’s no need to be afraid; you are brave enough to find the strength to carry this load. Do not make a choice to suffer when life is meant to be live and to be enjoyed. Find the courage to know your worth and know that you deserve better than the distasteful lies that are whispered in your ears. You have the strength to fight your insecurities. Do not be afraid to take the leap of faith. When you find the courage to jump, you will jump into a safety net in the arms of people who love you and who are willing to help you fight the never-ending battles.

You are not alone. Do not let the thoughts of others paralyze your train of thinking. Continue to keep one foot in front of the other. Do not look back; each step counts when you keep moving forward. There’s no need to second guess whether you should stay or leave because the past will trip you up. It will send you back to an uncontrollable storm that may very well cost you your life. Keep in mind, you are loved! You are amazing! You are unique! And you are wanted!

Do not get lost in someone else’s world that is not meant for you to live in. Do not give someone who is not worth it every bit of yourself. Nobody can use the power that is only meant for you. Feel and know your worth. Use what you were taught to teach you a lesson to know you have another chance at life. Live it to the fullest because life is giving you another chance to plant your seeds. Take care of them by watering them, nurturing them throughout all seasons, and watch your flowers bloom.

The question you are asking yourself as of now is—how much better can it get than this? My love, oh wait, and see your life is unfolding like a lotus flower that is flourishing on top of the mud that tried to drown you. How much better can it get than this? So much better!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C harlena E. Jackson, M.S., M.H.A. is a professor at a university in Georgia. She is a prolific writer and has published several books, among them being: If I Lose Myself, I’ll Lose It All, In Love with Blindfolds On, The Stars Choose Our Lovers, No Cross, No Crown: Trust God Through the Battle (1st & 2nd edition), Teachers Just Don’t Understand Bullying Hurts (1st & 2nd edition), I’m Speaking Up but You’re Not Listening (1st & 2nd edition), A Woman’s Love is Never Good Enough (1st & 2nd edition), Dear Fathers of the Fatherless Children, Dying on the Inside and Suffocating on the Outside, Pinwheels and Dandelions, and Unapologetic for My Flaws and All (1st and 2nd edition). Her positive, dedicated, and determined attitude has encouraged many people to put up a good fight for justice and to be treated with respect. She is currently working on her Ph.D. in Healthcare istration. Charlena is a much-loved inspirational speaker. She loves to read, roller skate, cycle, write, and travel.