PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER 3
I didn't see my father again after that. He left the next day without so much as a goodbye to me. Which was probably a good thing, because I would have only said something to make him hate me even more. If that was even possible. The man couldn't stand the sight of me already. He was only nice to me every now and then. Those were the times I felt guilty for being me. If I was more like Celeste and I didn't say anything back to him, he would actually like me. When I told Josh that he laughed at me. "If you were more like Celeste he'd only find something else to punish you with. He just doesn't like you." "Why not? What have I ever done to him to make him hate me?" I demanded. He turned his blue grey eyes away from me quickly. "You haven't done anything to him," he said. I then realised that Josh knew something that I didn't. "How do you know I haven't done anything?" I asked. "What do you know that I don't, Josh?" "Nothing! I don't know anything. I just know that you haven't done anything to make him hate you." Which seemed like a good enough answer. It would have been if he hadn't refused to make eye contact with me. "You're lying to me. Some cousin you make," I said and stormed off. I was angry that he wouldn't tell me. He had the power to fix what was wrong between my father and myself and he was refusing to tell me. My blood was boiling. "I never claimed to be such a good cousin to you," he threw out, having caught up with me. He ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustration. "I wish I could tell you anything that I know, Phoenix, but I can't." "So, you do know something?" I asked, throwing a quick glance his way. "A little bit," he admitted. "But I can't tell you. I will the moment I'm told I can, but right now I can't tell you," he repeated. For some reason I was content with that answer. I just prayed that somebody would tell me something soon. Josh was only there two weeks when my mother moved us to a different house in the town fifteen miles away. It was a nice little brisk house with five bedrooms. Plenty of room for all of us. I was happy with my room in the basement. Josh's room was right next to mine. None of the younger kids wanted to be down in the basement. My three sisters shared one of the "bigger" rooms upstairs. None of the rooms upstairs were very big, but none of my siblings would come down into the basement to sleep. Josh and I liked it down there in the huge basement. The basement itself had more room than the house. Most of the upper part of the house was the dining room. My mother's room was tiny and every room had hardwood floors. The dining room was right in the middle of the entire house. The kitchen was a short hallway with a small counter, a sink and a stove. The bathroom was off to the left side of the kitchen. It was basically in the kitchen with only a thin door to separate the two. The bathroom was like a hotbox. It was a very tiny room with a bathtub on the left, a toilet in the middle and the sink on the right side. You could barely move around and it had no windows. When someone took a shower, they nearly sweated to death in the tiny room. The living room was also just a small room. Nobody ever spent any time in there. I was usually found in the basement. I felt safe down there because my father wouldn't bother me down there. Besides, even if he did go down there to get me the basement had a door that led up to the backyard. I would get away before he could get me. There were several occasions when I did escape him and hide out until he would leave again. Sometimes, it would be two to three days before he would leave and when I came back, Josh would be the one angry with me for running away and not telling him where I was. He was always worried about where I went. He said that there were a lot of psychos around and he didn't want something bad to happen to me. It felt good to have somebody who actually seemed to care about me around. I had a good relationship with Josh. "You never know what is lurking behind those bushes, Phoenix," he warned me one day. I had just gotten out of the shower and I was making my way down the steps to the basement drying off my hair and trying to keep my bathrobe shut. "Sure I do," I said as I stepped off the last step. "I am what is lurking behind 'those bushes'." "You know what I mean." His voice didn't hide his irritation with me. "I just wish you wouldn't run away from him like that! It scares me." I turned around and smiled up at him. It was easy to look at Josh. Though I knew I shouldn't think him so good-looking because he was my cousin, it was hard not to notice how handsome he was. He had the softest hair I had ever seen on anyone in my life. It was a soft, pale gold. And he had such bright blue eyes that looked like a blue fire when he was angry or worried. His nose was perfectly straight and he had full lips that I overheard one of the girlfriends he'd had while being here say were lips just made for kissing. To add to it all, he was very tall. At seventeen years old, he stood at six foot one. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for worrying about me, Josh. I don't think anyone knows how special that is to me. But, really, I'm not in any danger when I leave this house. It's better if I just stay away from him. You know that!" He shook his head and looked down at his feet. "I know that you have to get away from him," he said sadly. "But I wish you'd at least let me know where you are at. I'm so afraid one of these days you won't come back." "I'll always come back to you and Mama, Josh. You two are the only ones that care about me." I tucked my damp hair behind my ears and looked away from him. "I just don't know how much more I can handle from him. He's mean and nasty. He doesn't care if he hurts me." "I know. I wish I could help you, but�" He trailed off. I smiled again up at him. Only this time my smile was melancholy. "You'll have no place to go if that jerk kicks you out. Don't feel bad about not being able to protect me. It's not your fault. I'll be fine as long as I don't have to see him." My shoulders dropped and I sat on my bed. "I promise that next time I run I'll tell you where I am so you won't be worried." He finally smiled. "Just because I know where you are doesn't mean I won't worry!" I laughed. That was true. If he knew that I stayed at the park down the street, he'd worry sick. Even so, I would keep my promise. I knew that I could hide only so long from my father. Someday he would find me and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. I feared that day. But until then I could run from him. I had an escape route from him. The last time I ran away began with a huge fight. It started out when he was yelling at Mama about cleaning the house. Most of the time the house was clean when he was home. Yet, nothing ever seemed to make him happy. I wasn't sure my father knew what happiness was. He was an impossible man with a nose as good as any hound dog. If he thought he smelt something in the house he would go ballistic. I woke to the sound of his screaming upstairs. Josh must have heard it, too because he came out of his room. He looked at me and our eyes met. Both of us knew what was going on but I wasn't going to run before fighting and defending my mother this time. I shot out of bed and up the stairs. I heard what he was yelling about and my blood began to boil. She always made sure the house was spotless when he was home. How dare he think otherwise? "The house looks like a tornado tore through it. Why can't you work as hard as I do? Do you realise that there are ants in that cupboard out there? They are eating our food, Karen! And it's all because you and that bitch of a daughter don't know how to clean!" His vicious attack on her, and not to mention me, had me through their bedroom door in seconds. It was only seven in the morning! Why couldn't he wait to scream at her? "This house is always clean when you're home, Dad! She makes sure it is. And there are ants out there because everyone is having a hard time with them this year, not because we are dirty and don't know how to clean. Just shut up!" I screamed the last sentence. I was so tired of this! It was a constant cycle that never seemed to quit. "Don't tell me to shut up, you stupid bitch!" he bellowed. "I'm tired of your mouth. I'm going to knock your head right off your damn shoulders." "Go ahead. That way I won't have to listen to your mouth," I snapped back sarcastically. I hadn't thought his face could get any more red than it had been when I first began shooting off my mouth, but pretty soon he looked about as dark red as a tomato. "Damn it!" was all he screamed before he had his hand around my throat and my feet off the ground. I choked and squirmed, but not once did I physically fight back. He was just too strong for me. "Stop it, Mike!" Mama jumped from the bed and onto my father's back and began beating him in the head with her fists. He dropped me and gasped for breath. My mother jumped off his back and they began arguing. I couldn't say anything, I couldn't even move. Josh came in the room and helped me up. "I can't breathe," I gasped. "I know. It's okay. I got you. You're all right," he said softly and then helped me down the stairs to my breathing machine. After I could breathe again, I packed a few clothes together and went to the door. "Where are you going?" Josh asked. I turned back around to face him. "I'm going to the park until he leaves." I couldn't stop the tears that kept bursting from behind my eyes. Before he could ask any more questions, I ran up the basement stairs to the outside. I walked to the park with the most depressing thoughts. I went to my little hiding place, which was a small area that was surrounded by bushes and trees. It made a small cave-like structure that I could sleep in somewhat comfortably until I could go back home. But that night I was sick. I had been getting sick and now it was bad. I couldn't breathe and I had no medicine with me. I was scared to death. This was it. I would probably die out here and nobody would even know. I couldn't go home no matter how much I wanted to. Walking home would only kill me. I couldn't go for any help because the security guards would ask me why I was here so late. I was stuck there, gasping for air and crying silently to myself. My lungs felt so heavy and my chest was in so much pain! I felt as if I was going to pass out. I cried harder at the thought. If I passed out, that would be the end. I would die. Later, Josh told me that if it hadn't been for the sound of my choking, gasping and crying, he would never have found me. But he had been scared about my being out in the park alone and had decided to come looking for me. He truly looked like an angel to me when he found me under all of that brush. I was suddenly crying from relief and happiness. I would be all right! God hadn't forgotten about me after all. I was in the hospital for a week after that incident. Not once did my father visit me while he was home. Not once did I ever ask him to. I didn't want to see him. If he weren't so cruel I wouldn't have felt the need to run away. I probably wouldn't have gotten into the predicament I had gotten myself into. I blamed it all on him. I was afraid that if I blamed it on myself, I would only cry myself into another asthma attack and this time allow myself to just give up and die. Of course, nobody knew what went on in our house. I never had any physical markings and nobody would dare believe me should I say that my father abused me. The people who knew him knew him only as a good, hardworking family man that lived only for his family. I hated those people. It was so easy for my family to pretend to be a great, loving family. We all got along so well in front of everyone else. Within the walls of our home, though, after they all left, the demons came out to play once again. Nobody would ever know what went on. We would continue to pretend that we were the perfect family. Nobody would ever know what went on behind our closed door. It wasn't something that anyone would listen to eagerly. I loved it when my father was gone. There was so much freedom. We didn't walk on eggshells. We all felt safe and secure. He wasn't home to make us feel as if we weren't good enough to be his family. Of course, Celeste never had to worry about it. He adored her and she could do no wrong in his eyes. He completely ignored the other three while he doted on her and beat me. I knew Lila was jealous of Celeste and, just like all of my siblings, blamed all of my misery on me. Why couldn't I just be like them and stay out of it? Because it wasn't my nature, that's why. The sooner they understood that, we would all get along just fine. Until then I would stay at odds with most of my family and not talk to them unless I had to. Mama was caught up in her freedom. Too caught up, that is, to pay much attention to the other kids. She had me cover for her while she went out dancing and partying all night long. There were several occasions when I would get a phone call telling me to have someone pick up my mother because she was so drunk she couldn't make it home herself. Josh usually had to get into the car and run to get her. It seemed as if we were always saving my mother from herself. That kind of life style continued and, I believe, is the reason why we left Wisconsin. People in town were recognising my mother. She was afraid to go anywhere with my father, in fear of someone seeing her and saying something to her. The real downfall of being in Wisconsin was money issues. My father was forced to switch jobs and my mother was spending more money than he could make in a week. We didn't have enough to pay for the phone bill and the cheque that she wrote bounced. When the phone was shut off, my mother was afraid that my father would call the entire time. Then, not thinking clearly, she picked up the phone and called 911, wondering if we could still call in case of an emergency. When she hurriedly hung up on them, the police were sent out to check to make sure that everything was fine. When they ran my mother's license, she was wanted for fraud and was taken to jail. That day was miserable for me. Josh and I left Celeste in charge of the kids and we ran back in forth between Merrill, Wisconsin and Wausau all day long, trying to find a way to bail her out of jail. The day was tiring and she was there from about nine in the morning until six-thirty in the evening. At around six, I talked to a friend of hers who spotted me in the grocery store and asked how she was doing. When I told him what was going on, he said he would pay the three hundred and seventy-five dollars to get her out. I was so relieved I hugged him, which was very unlike me to do. I hated physical contact! Mama was so relieved to get out of there she was near tears. She thanked her friend, whose name was Ben Richards, and she thanked Josh and me over and over again. After all was said and done, Mama went home and fell asleep. I lay down beside her and watched her sleep for a while. Sadness filled in around my heart. Why did things only seem to get worse and worse for our family? There was no way we were going to make it even part of another year in this state. We were more miserable as the days passed. But this was far from the tip of the iceberg. Soon it was the last week of September. My mother already had decided she wanted to go back to California. She hated Wisconsin now. But my father had insisted that things would get better now and refused to listen to her please. He wouldn't let us go back. I never did understand why Mama didn't just pack us up and do it anyway. Why did she live like this? Why did she put us, her children, through this? She should have just left him. He would have dealt with it. I would have been relieved to get out. But she didn't leave. And as we stayed there in Wisconsin because he refused to move back home, I knew that she never would leave. My abusive father would forever imprison us. But we wouldn't always be imprisoned in Wisconsin. Things kept going wrong and we didn't have enough money to pay for them. Then one day the electricity was shut off. There wasn't a dime in my parents' bank account to get it turned back on and the bill was up to three hundred dollars. I needed the electricity because of my medical reasons, but they refused to turn it back on. Mama finally broke completely. She sat on her bed and cried for hours and hours. I felt a sense of dread. I was completely helpless and I had no idea what we were going to do! For three days we lived off of my mother's last remaining ninety-five dollars to buy pizza for dinner and candles to light up the house. The misery in Mama's eyes gave them a strange, yet beautiful gleam to them. It seemed that no matter what, she was always beautiful, even in sadness. One night, long after my younger siblings and Josh had fallen asleep; my mother looked at me with the saddest look on her face. The candle illuminated her features and gave her eyes a spooky glow. "I'm so sorry, Phoenix. I never realised how much of a mistake moving here would be." There were tears in her voice. She looked away from me and attempted to take a deep breath, but she couldn't stop herself from crying. I laid a hand on her arm, gently. "How could you have known what would happen here? Besides, it wasn't completely your idea to move us here. He wanted to because he was afraid he'd lose you to some other man." I was praying that I was comforting her. I hated to see her this way. She looked back at me, tears streaking her face, and she smiled. "You're such a good girl, Phoenix. I always knew I was lucky the day you came into my life, but I don't think I knew just how lucky I was." What a strange way to put it. Why had she said: "came into my life" rather than "the day you were born"? For some reason a chill ran up my spine. I wasn't brave enough to ask her about what she meant. I just smile and hugged her. Then I got up, told her goodnight, and walked into the living room where everyone was sleeping. Since it was beginning to get very cold already, and we had no heater because of the lack of electricity, we all had to huddle up together to keep warm. I found a space between Celeste and Josh and managed to squeeze my way in between them. Celeste groaned and turned her back to me, mumbling incoherently. Josh's eyes opened and he sat up. "I'm sorry, we should have left you more room," he whispered. "No, it's all right. I'm okay." I pulled the blanket tighter around me. He moved over a bit more for me, so I could have more room. "What's wrong?" "It's Mama. She blames all of this on herself," I said sadly. "It is her fault, Phoenix. This is, anyway. If she hadn't been spending more money than your father makes, we wouldn't be having this problem." I sat back up. "How can you say that? It benefited us, too! Don't say that it's her fault!" I didn't understand how he could blame it on her. Actually, I could understand why, I just refuse to look at it that way. To look into her eyes and see such sadness brought me nearly to tears myself. How could I place any blame on her shoulders? She had enough to deal with already. "Sometimes, Phoenix, I look at you as someone much older than her actual age," he said, staring me straight in the eyes. His own blue eyes were dark and serious. "Then there are those other times when you choose to hold onto false hopes. You know damned well that this is her fault. Yet you defend her because you pity her and don't want to admit that she has screwed up once again." I was near tears. I knew he was right but I wasn't someone that easily admitted to defeat. "Why do you say things like that, Josh? She takes such good care of you! She gives you a home when no one else does!" "I know, and I am thankful for that. I just can't help blaming her this time, Phoenix. You know it's true. You know that it is her fault. You just don't want to admit it. I need sleep now. Good night," he muttered and rolled over, his back to me. I hated being so close to someone that they knew how the inside of my brain worked. It annoyed me. I sat there thinking about it for a while. I just couldn't lie down and sleep with that on my mind. She wasn't such a horrible mother. Sure, she had her problems, and sure, she did think she was God's gift to men, but she was still my mother and I loved her. I sat there, my head resting on my hands and my elbows resting on my knees, staring into the darkness and thinking. When I was in deep thought I could stare at something and analyse any situation for hours. Josh must have been so annoyed with me that he couldn't sleep, because after just a few minutes, he sat back up and started talking to me. "I'm not saying she's horrible, Phoenix. She's really fun to be around. I'm just saying she could have done things differently. Please, just go to sleep and stop dwelling on it." "Why should it bother you if I'm dwelling on it?" I asked. I really was curious. Why should he care if I was sitting there and getting no sleep over it? I'm sure he could sleep fine and not care a bit about what he said to me. He groaned and plopped back down onto his pillow and covered his head with the blanket. "You worry too much!" His voice came out muffled from under the covers. "I just want you to get some sleep, Phoenix. I never meant to offend you, okay? You need your good health and staying awake all night, picking apart something I said isn't going to help you any!" I smiled. He worried too much about me, but it felt good knowing someone cared that much. I fell down onto the pillow beside him and pulled the covers up over my own head. I looked at him. "You care too much about me, Josh. I'll go to sleep, and you are forgiven about what you said about Mama. Thank you for caring about me," I told him, giving him my biggest smile. He smiled back at me, his eyes glowing. "I couldn't do anything else but care." He became suddenly serious. "Sometimes I look at you and you look like someone that I know or once knew. I just can't pinpoint who it is. It's weird. It's not like anyone in Aunt Karen's family or your father's family. But just someone." He shook his head; puzzled by the non-stop image he had in his head. The person I reminded him of. "Oh, forget it! I'm tired and I'm babbling. Good night!" he said and yanked the covers back down and rolled over so his back was facing me again. "Good night," I said softly and rolled over. I fell asleep smiling. I felt loved. I felt as if I wasn't completely alone in the world. I felt that someone actually did want me around. And it was the best feeling in the world. The next day we were all rudely awakened by my father's booming voice. "What the hell is this? A flop house? Every one of you, get up now! NOW!" I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I knew it was early; the sun was just barely shining through the two front windows. I brushed my hair back behind my ears and stared at my father. Celeste moaned and groaned as she sat up next to me. Her eyes were only cracked open slightly and she leaned heavily against me. "Why do we have to get up, Daddy? It's not like we can sleep in our rooms. It's awful cold for fall and we ain't got no heat!" she moaned. "She's right, Dad. It's only the start of fall and it's already cold. The windows in the other kids' rooms don't shut right so the cold air comes in, and there is no way Josh and I can sleep down in the basement. So, we all sleep in the living room together," I explained. I wasn't trying to mouth him off or anything, I only meant to explain what was going on. "I didn't ask you. I don't even want to look at you. DON'T MOUTH ME OFF AGAIN!" he screamed. I jumped. Josh was sitting up next to me, his blue eyes looking deadly. Under the blanket he squeezed my hand for encouragement. I looked at him thankfully. I knew that someone was there for me. "I wasn't mouthing you off, Dad, I was just trying to answer your question." To my surprise and, not to mention relief, I stayed calm and relaxed. I didn't want to fight. I meant only to explain why we were all lying out in the middle of the living room floor. He stabbed his forefinger in my face. I backed up a little bit and looked up at him in disgust. He must have noticed the look between Josh and me because his black eyes flicked to Josh and then back to me. "Why, you disgusting little slut!" His words threw me off guard for a second before my anger burst through me like a wild fire. "Slut! How can you call me that? You know that's not me!" I screamed at him. "You're no better than your god damned mother. He's your cousin, but don't think that I don't know what you two are doing when you are alone," he snapped back at me. My jaw dropped to the floor. It was one thing to accuse me of having a bad attitude with him, because most of the time that was true. But to accuse me of having sex with my own cousin had me so shocked I couldn't say a word. Fortunately, I didn't have to say anything. This time Josh was up and ready to battle him. "You call us disgusting? Well, you're the nasty one for even thinking things like that! It's not fair of you to accuse the two of us of doing something wrong. Especially Phoenix! You know damned well that you've ruined all chance of her ever even liking guys. You have her scared that every man wants only to control her!" I had never seen Josh that angry. He had always seemed to keep his cool, until now. "I can't believe I let Karen talk me into letting Kelly's bastard son into my home. I knew from the moment that I laid eyes on you that you were nothing but trouble. But anyone without a father and nothing but a slut for a mother is bound to be trouble," my father quipped. I know that had I not stepped in then Josh would have hit him. His fists were clenched at his sides and the tips of his ears and his cheeks were red with anger. I quickly stepped up besides Josh and laid a hand on his arm. "Think what you want, Dad. But your only real problem is knowing that Josh is good and listens to everything you say. You hate the fact that he brings home good grades and never gets into trouble. He stands up for me, and not to mention himself, for once and you have a fit. When are you going to grow up?" I left before anything could happen. I wasn't in the mood to be backhanded. Which is exactly what would have happened had I not walked away from the argument. The argument passed and eventually my father and I were at least able to be in the same room with one another. The night seemed to come slower, which was only half of a blessing. It was a blessing because when night came, so did the cold. But it was a bad thing because my father wasn't leaving until morning and I wanted morning to come so badly, I couldn't see straight. But he surprised me that night as we all sat around the living room huddled in blankets. I was lying against the wall, miserable. I was wishing to God that it was still summer and I could go down into the basement. I didn't want to be around him. It was unfair that circumstances like this I was breathing the same air as him. He looked up at me from where he sat in the chair, my mother, shockingly, in his lap, sharing the same blanket as him. "How would you like to be back in California before your fifteenth birthday?" he asked me. My eyes widened and my head shot up to look at him. Was he being honest? Were we really going home? "Do you mean it, Mikey? We're going home?" Mama asked. I felt sick. I hated how she acted towards him sometimes. Why pretend to like him? He knew his family hated him. Or at least he knew that I hated him. Mama was good at playing it off as if she really cared about him. I just wanted her to leave him because he wasn't worth all of the misery that we went through. He nodded and looked at her. He smiled brightly; glad to be getting that sort of attention from her. I rolled my eyes annoyed. His eyes shot back to me, questioningly. "Well?" he asked. "How would you like it?" For the first time in a really long time, I managed to smile at my father. "I'd love it!" I cried happily. I no longer wanted to be in this cold, miserable state where I was nearly always sick. I wanted to go home, where I knew people. Where I was comforted by other family members; such as Grandma Lillie and my mother's adopted sister, Carissa, and her family. Aunt Carissa was somebody that I had always remembered. She'd always been there. But my mother never got along with her because she had been the baby up until she was twelve years old, and her parents decided to adopt Grandma Lillie's best friend's five-year-old daughter after she died in a fire that burned her entire house down. I knew that Aunt Carissa had very few memories of her parents. I also knew that she was quite childish. She had an immaturity about her that made her out to be one of the most na�ve people I knew. But I was happy that I was going to get to see her and her three children. Two were boys and she had a four-month-old daughter that we had never even seen. Though, it never bothered Mama much that she'd never seen her. As far she was concerned, Carissa wasn't family. Josh wasn't as excited as I was to be going to back to California. He was just starting to adjust with the family and he was afraid that once we got back there, Aunt Kelly would take him back to live with her. Now that he was going to be eighteen soon, she didn't feel that she would need to take care of him herself, and wouldn't mind having her son live with her. "It couldn't possibly be that horrible going back to live with your mother if she wants you to, Josh," I told him the next day, as we walked to the store across the street to collect boxes for moving. "Wouldn't it be great if you and your mother became close?" He laughed. "Oh, you would think so, Phoenix. But trust me, she's not somebody I want to be close with. Besides, if I leave who is going to be there for you?" "Oh, Josh, I did fine without you before. I can take care of myself. It would be good if you and your mother could really get to know each other and maybe become close friends, even if you can't become like a real mother and son." I really didn't want him to go, but family was important. It would only be right if he went back to his mother. "Besides, I'll have Victoria when I get miserable." "Oh come on, Phoenix! Get real! You haven't talked to her in forever, the two of you were friends for a short time but you both have gotten on with your lives. Stop pretending to be close with her when you know you're not." I knew he was right. I hated the fact that he was right. Victoria's friendship and mine had been over for a really long time now. But that is usually how it went when it came to the Internet world. I didn't want to admit that he was right, but looking down at my hands sadly and avoiding eye contact with him was as good as any admission. "I'll still be okay. Really, I want you and your mother to have a good relationship and you can't stop that from ever happening just because of me!" I shook my head and walked away from him. He was my cousin, and one of the only friends I had. I didn't want to lose him, but I also didn't want to ruin any chances of he and his mother becoming close, as they should be. We went back to California, almost every one of us happy to be leaving that cold and bitter world behind. I didn't want to have anything to do with Wisconsin ever again. It was a chapter out of my life that I wanted to totally forget. I wanted to get on with my life and pretend that everything that had happened there hadn't. I would go back to having the few friends that I'd had before we left and life would be as it had been. But it wasn't about to be like that. The pathetically small group of friends that I'd had my entire life was gone. I had become non-existent to all of them except one. Though I was happy that my friend Lynna hadn't forgotten all about me, I was still depressed. I thought that I had been close with those few other girls I'd know my entire life. I didn't know that it was so easy to forget me in one measly year. That first year was really tough. We had moved back without thought of where we would live, only hoping that my grandmother would harbour us for a short while. Which she did, in her tiny two-bedroom apartment where my entire family was forced to sleep on the living room floor, because the second room was used as storage. The neighbourhood she lived in wasn't exactly the best and Dad made sure to keep us all inside of the house as soon as the sun began to make its descend from the sky. Any potential neighbourhood friends we could have made, we didn't because my father was paranoid that the neighbourhood hoodlums would corrupt his children. Not that I ever left the apartment long enough to actually make friends. I didn't even get to go to regular school. Since I had missed so much in Wisconsin and my health was so bad, I was told that the regular high school refused to take me in. I was sent to an independent studies school called Freedom Alternative High School where I would see a teacher once a week for forty-five minutes. One good thing about coming back was because of family. Not only did we get to see Mama's adopted sister Carissa, but we also got to see my father's cousin, Lawrence. We had all called him Uncle Lawrence for so long he was more like an uncle rather than a cousin. He, too, was married and had a child on the way. In fact, his son, William, was born the night that we arrived back. We didn't get to see William or Uncle Lawrence very often because his wife and her family didn't like to do anything with his low-life family. The first day that we were back I woke up to see Aunt Carissa sitting on the couch with her four-month-old daughter, Annie, on her lap. I sat up in the recliner that I had fallen asleep in and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Carissa smiled at me, her beautiful blue eyes glittering with happiness. "It's so good to see you back, Phoenix. I hope now that you are back we can spend more time together than we did before," she said. I had always loved the soft, melodic tone that Aunt Carissa had. She had such a loving and comforting voice. Sometimes, people thought we were actually related, maybe sisters, because some people said we sounded alike and even looked a little bit alike. I laughed at that. It was impossible since Carissa wasn't a blood relation. And it wasn't just her voice that was beautiful, but she had an angelic, sweet beauty. Anyone in pain or misery would feel like smiling and feel comforted just by looking at her. She had that sort of presence about her. She had the softest, dark brown hair that she let grow out just past her shoulders. Her facial features were so small and she looked almost like a porcelain doll because they were perfectly shaped. That day she wore a wide-brim garden hat with pretty red and white roses that looked very real to me. Probably right out of her garden. She had won awards for the garden that she kept surrounding her cute, small home. She also worse a light blue summer dress that lay gently around her ankles and a pair of brown sandals. I don't know why it is that I remember so well the way my mother's adopted sister looked that day. It was just something that stuck in my mind. For it certainly felt like waking up to see an angel sitting beside you. I nodded to her. "Yes, hopefully we can spend more time together," I said, my voice hoarse from what I called "morning voice". I sat up in the recliner better and smoothed back my hair. I still felt so groggy. The trip back had been so long; it had seemed never ending. Yet, here we were now. "This," she said proudly, shifting the baby on her lap and looking down at her lovingly, "is Annie." She smiled widely, and lifted the baby's hand to make her wave at me. Annie looked at me curiously and then smiled. She was certainly the most beautiful baby I had ever laid my eyes on. Her hair was just growing back in and it was growing back in a dark, rich red. Her eyes were absolutely luminous, they were the same blue as Carissa's and they shined when she smiled. I was immediately taken by her. Obviously, so was my mother. It seemed that as soon as Mama had come in contact with baby Annie, she was charmed by her. No longer was there the animosity between Carissa and Mom as there had been before we had left. Annie had taken care of that by simply holding out her tiny arms and smiling that beautiful smile. I was happy about that. Maybe, someday, they could become like the real sisters they should have been years ago. Family started to become more and more important to me. I wanted so much for my family to be caring and good to one another. I wanted all of the arguing to cease completely. I never wanted to worry about whether what we were doing was making my father angry or not. I was tired of hearing the words "Dad wouldn't like it" over and over again. Why couldn't things just be simple? Why couldn't he accept who we were, rather than force us all to be something we weren't when we were around him? When my father got the job as a truck driver for J.B. Hunt and started working nights, we at least got those short hours of freedom. They were nothing compared to the freedom we had held in Wisconsin. Maybe that was a good thing. The vacation was over and now it was time to get back to living a semi-normal life. But my life would never be what it was before we had left Wisconsin. It wouldn't be the same as it had been when we lived in Wisconsin. No, things were about to change drastically for me. Especially the way I looked and felt about people in my life. I spent my fifteenth birthday at Aunt Carissa's home. A surprise party that she and Mama had put together for me. The only friend I had there was Lynna. That was okay, though. I had started not to care. The way I went to school, there was no hope of me ever having friends. My teacher was fantastic, but I had only met her once since we had come back, and already I knew that the other teens in my school didn't mingle with one another. We all were to keep to ourselves. It was only days after that birthday party that we moved out of my grandmother's tiny apartment and into a set of apartment complexes named Fox Hollow. Josh didn't move with us. Instead, he was sent back to southern California with his mother. It was by his choice, really. I had assured him that everything would be all right where I was concerned. I had other family members to protect me now. I had other family members to run to. We had been told we could have the apartment for two weeks and the day before we moved in, Mama was furious to find out that the apartment had barely been cleaned. Clean wasn't exactly the word I would have used for what they had done. It was more like they had hidden all of the dirt from our view. I don't recall ever seeing my mother so angry in all of her life. That day, Mama, Celeste and I went in there and cleaned it by ourselves. We even bought our own cleaning supplies. As we cleaned, one of the neighbours came over to see how we were doing. She was a short woman who looked to be about in her early to mid-fifties. Her grey hair was short and rather "big", for it stood more like an Afro on her head. Her facial features were manly and far too big for the small shape of her face. The woman also had an indention made in the left side of her head. It gave me the willies looking at it. So, I simply greeted her and turned back to my work on the stove, scraping away old grease and food particles. Mama greeted the woman, too. Quickly the two became quite friendly with one another. I later found the woman's name was Agatha Martel. We all called her Aggie. She had three children and a boyfriend that was a truck driver. An over-the-road truck driver. Maybe that was why my mother became friends with her. Whatever the reason, I too became friends with Aggie and her daughter Regina, who we called Reggie. She was Celeste's age and Celeste knew her from school. I didn't know what these people would bring about in my family. I wasn't ready for what was about to happen in just a few short months. I don't think anyone could have been ready for the biggest secret that we were yet to keep from my father. No, I was far from ready. But it wasn't something that you could prepare yourself for. Some things in life are like that. You just have to sit back and wait to see what happens. Sometimes you think you can predict what will happen. But when the conclusion hits you are shocked beyond words and can't help thinking about how wrong you really were.
