Character Bio Story

Lilah

This is the fourth time I have stepped on Karters Legos while walking down the stairs, the third time today I have almost slipped on Ethans dirty socks, and the sixth time considering whether or not I should pack my bags, escape to some old, small town in Ohio, and call myself Patricia. I mean, it’s plausible, maybe not realistic, but you know, anything can happen. 

I don’t know how Mom popped six kids out of her and dealt with them all—that’s a lot of kids, more than the normal person would agree to raise. Don’t get me wrong I love every one of them, but the amount of stuff littering this house right now is making me go insane. 

I bend down, picking up a used napkin, holding it away from my body with only my pointer finger and thumb. Gross. Walking towards the kitchen, the clang of pots and pans and worship music interrupts the peaceful quiet the house is never in. 

“Hey love bug.” Dad says while whisking whatever is in the silver bowl. He is wearing his Mr Good Lookin’ is Cookin’ apron that Mom got him for his birthday two years ago. 

“Hey Dad,” I greet, dropping the dirty napkin in the trashcan and sitting on one of the islands bar stools, propping my elbows on the counter. “Where did everyone go?”

“Your Mom went to the mall with Ethan, Jacob and Karter to find swimsuits that do not give the boys a plumber crack or fall down once they stand up.” 

“Thank the Lord! You don’t understand how hard I’ve tried to suppress that memory for!” 

“Me too, Lilah, me too,” Dad agrees, nodding his head, as his lips form a straight line. “Kim went to work and Cal will be back shortly. I had him go over to Ms. Lucy’s to grab another stick of butter.” He holds up his three sticks. “We ran out.”

I lift off my seat, enough to see what is in the mixing bowl. “Cookies?” 

“You know it.” Dad pats his belly, eliciting a laugh from me. “What’s on your agenda for the afternoon?” 

I woke up, ate breakfast, took a nap, and then woke up again. I need to do something productive or my body will throw a tantrum. I could use some Vitamin D. 

“I was thinking of going to the Park to see if inspiration strikes, so I can get something started for my entry piece for Dewiet.”

“When is the deadline?”

“The last week of July. So I have,” counting the days from now to then, “thirty-six days left to submit a poem.” 

“You got time, bug. Something will come to you and whatever you create will be special. Everything you write is special.” Dads voice echoes in the pantry as he rifles through containers. “Eat.” He places a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a granola bar in front of me. 

Dad goes back to mixing ingredients, minus the missing stick of butter, turning the volume back up on the kitchen radio as I can’t help the insecurity train of my writing circle through my mind. The few people who have read some of my work, say they love it, but what if they really don’t? Nope, can’t think like that. I’ll only get sucked deeper and deeper into the void of lies I have told myself. 

Shoving the thought away, I unwrap my sandwich, biting into heavenly goodness. I tap my foot to the beat of the music, humming along with Tauren Wells, immersing myself into a world where there are no worries whether or not inspiration will strike me or if I will stay uninspired forever. 

The side door in the kitchen opens, an out-of-breath Cal enters, holding up the stick of butter like it is the Holy Grail. He slams the door shut behind him, slapping the stick on to Dad’s outstretched hand. 

“I just,” Cal gulps for air, “ran from Ms. Lucy’s pitbull,” another heave of oxygen. “I had to run around the neighborhood.” Cal stops, putting his hands on his knees and sucks in as much air as elementary students did when they finally completed their mile run. Once he has had his time to collect himself, he straightens back up while Dad tries to hold in his laughter. “That darn dog chased me all around the block! I had to jump a fence for fear the pitbull would make a chew toy out of my leg if I went to the front door! I got the butter though. You’re welcome.” 

Dad cannot hold in his laughter any longer. No sounds come out of his mouth, only tiny wheezes as he clutches the edge of the counter, doubling over. This goes on for at least five minutes before Dad collects himself, clearing his throat and placing the stick of butter in the microwave to soften. 

“Cal, you’re the most athletic person I know. Why did you run around the whole neighborhood instead of sprinting to our front door?” I tease him, shoulders shaking with laughter as I rest my head on my hands. 

He runs a hand through his auburn hair, the opposite of my blonde locks. We look nothing alike, yet our birth certificates confirm we were born only three minutes apart. Cal is a little over six feet like our Dad and I stand at four feet and eleven inches. Cal is outgoing and boisterous, and I on the other hand am on sensory overload twelve times a day.  Despite our differences, Cal is my best friend. 

A best friend who sticks his tongue out at me. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my brighter moments, but hey, I got the butter and I showed that dog who is boss.” He wiggles his thumbs towards his chest. 

“By running like a scared little girl.” 

“Lilah, my dear sister, what did you say?” Cal speaks slowly, walking towards me. “If I heard correctly, which I believe I did, I don’t think what you said was very kind.” Mischief gleams in his eyes and I know if I do not run right now, I will be victim to being sat on for the next thirty minutes. 

I push myself off the stool, bolting out of the kitchen with Cal on my toes. I run to the dining room, going around the table, steering clear of his outstretched hands. Not today, buddy. Skidding to the living room, I position myself on one side of the couch and Cal stops on the other side. Mischief lifts the corners of his mouth and I look around for any objects I can protect myself with. My eyes examine the contents on our coffee table. A book, coffee mug, a pencil, a notebook, the remote—the remote. I snatch the remote, wielding it like a sword. 

“I’m ready now,” I claim, pointing the remote at Cal as if I were a knight. 

His eye quirks before he jumps over the couch. I squeal, dropping the remote, the rug cushioning its fall as I dodge his arms and run to the stairs. Before I can even take a step, arms encircle around my waist and I’m being spun around. 

“Let me down, you big oaf!” My futile attempts at peeling his steel arms away do nothing to deter Cal and his mission. 

After what seems like forever and having my organs resemble the contents of a blender, Cal ceases his tortue and lets go of me, steadying me on stable ground. The floor is slanted, how did I not notice this my whole eighteen years of living? My feet jumble together and next thing I know, I am on the ground, limbs sprawled, staring up at the spinning ceiling. Cals head pops into my vision, more like five of his heads, are staring down at me. 

His heads cock to the right, “You doing all right?” A chuckle vibrates through his chest.

“You’re a pain, you know that right?” I close my eyes, waiting for the dizziness to go away.

“You love me though.” I can imagine the wink and pretend hair flip Cal is sending my way right about now.

“Yeah,” I mumble, lifting my hand arm. Cal takes my outstretched hand, pulling me up besides him. I thwack the back of his head, earning a grunt. 

“Now we’re even.” I wink back and strut up to my room. 

Odette 

My keys clank into the ceramic bowl I bought at Goodwill as I shut the dingy door behind me, hands full with grocery bags. Shuffling over to my small, barely functioning kitchen, I heave the bags onto the counter, a sigh rushing out of me. Bags still layering my arms, I drape myself over them, relishing in the lost weight. 

“We made it,” I mumble, taking the bags off my arms one by one, each leaving a dark red spot where they dug into my skin. I put away my supply of produce, meats, and snacks, leaving out the frozen pizza for dinner. Heating the oven up to 400 degrees, I peel back the cardboard packaging and place the pizza on the rack, setting my pig timer for thirty minutes. 

Rubbing the tiredness from my face, I grab the bag full of toiletries and make my way to my bathroom. In the middle of putting toilet paper rolls and tampons away under the sink, four soft knocks interpret me organizing. Placing my hands on my knees, I lift myself up, and make my way to the door. I check the peephole before turning the knob. Tight, black ringlets pulled back by a floral headband, and the figure of a plump woman stands on the other side of my door—Miss Desiree. 

I open the door, the smell of cocoa butter hitting my senses, wrapping me in a warm embrace. 

“Hunny, I thought you would never get home!” Miss Desiree exclaims, pulling me to her chest. From the first day I met her, she has never failed to greet someone with a hug. The day I moved in, she welcomed me to the fourth floor of the 7A Apartment Complex with a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Her eyes were shining, ready to introduce herself, and I remember when I opened my door, her eagerness scared me. I didn know what to do— nobody had ever willingly introduced themselves to me in eight years. Her lips were moving, but I didn hear a word she said. My head began to spin and the air around me seemed to rise to a sweltering temperature. And when she went in for a one handed hug, my body didn know how to react, expect by fainting. Having the company of loneliness, loss, and distrust for years will do all sorts of things to a person.   

The poor woman was unprepared for the sudden weight of an eighteen year old to slump against her. I can remember the clank of the platter hitting the floor and the cookies crunching under her feet when she tried to catch me. I wasn’t out for long, but in that time, I was brought over to her apartment with the help of her two sons. I found out later, when they came out of their rooms, that their names are Mosi and Amar. 

When I came to, ice chips being shoved into my mouth and a small, battery fan blew warm air onto my face. The unfamiliar surroundings and human being startled me. I wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of memories of what people are capable of when you are vulnerable. 

Fear flowed through my veins, and my fight or flight response activated. Sitting up so suddenly, I knocked the cup of ice chips out of Miss Desiree’s hand. The cubes fell onto the hardwood, each plinking when they made contact with the hard floor. The movement scrambled my brain more than it already was, and I fell back onto the cushions. I scolded myself for being so weak and unable to hold myself up. 

I peaked at Miss Desiree. She was fiddling with the woven blanket she had on her lap, concern and confusion swimming in her eyes. The ice chips were melting on the floor when she reached to hold my hand in hers. I flinched at the action, trying to bury myself deeper into the couch. With furrowed eyebrows, Miss Desiree placed her hand back on her lap. 

“What can I do, Hunny?” Miss Desiree asked lovingly. No one had spoken to me like that in so long, not even my social worker. Her words were full of kindness. Something I haven’t experienced since my last foster home. 

I pulled my knees up to my chest, willing my heart to slow down and to stay strong. But once the first tear slipped, more followed and soon tears burned my cheeks, and my heart ached for the girl who grew up too fast, who learned fear instead of love. 

The sudden warmth of Miss Desiree’s hand on my back shocked me, but I couldn’t find the will in me to push her away. Her touch was hesitant, ready to pull away at my command. My arms gripped together as my hands gripped onto my forearms. This woman had no idea who I was, but offered me kindness, at a time when I didn’t know I needed it. 

We stayed like this for a while, until the river of tears slowed to a trickle, and my muscles relaxed. Miss Desiree didn’t ask any questions, only got up, and came back with a glass of water. She handed the cup to me, then sat back on the poof, with a glass of her own. The fissure inside of me that had been taped over, bubbled up and spilled—everything I spent years suppressing came tumbling out. I guess nothing stays hidden forever, nobody how you want it to. 

I told her what life was growing up in foster care. I told her how excited I was when I was told a couple wanted to foster me, the girl who was always looked over when parents-to- be came to the building. She heard about my time with them and how it went from pure jubilation to a terrible nightmare. She listened when I told her I went back into the system and aged out. How the agency helped me get this apartment and a job. 

She listened. And after I finished, she invited me to stay for dinner. She was cooking up spaghetti and meatballs. When it was time to cook, her sons came out of their bedrooms, each excited for food, as growing boys are. They asked if I was alright and I gave them a small smile and a nod. That seemed to satisfy them. Like that, that day has remained to be one of the best and worst days rolled up into one. 

“It’s been a long day Miss Desiree.” I sigh, leaning into her embrace. 

“Who do they think they are, keeping you an hour after your shift ended—it’s nearly ten!” She says exasperated. She pulls back, holding my cheek in her hand. 

“I know, I know,” I say tiredly, closing my eyes. “The diner let me out on time, but I had to stop at Al’s to get groceries. I’m heating up a pizza now and then I have to get my clothes out of the dryer and squeeze a shower in.”  

“Oh! That’s too much to be doing this late at night! I’m helping!” She declares. 

“Miss Desiree.” I drag her name out. “I can do it.”

“Stop that,” she all but demands. “I was not asking, I was telling.” She shoos me back into my apartment. “I’ll go get the laundry and you go shower.” 

“But,” I turn around, her hands slipping from my shoulders and stopping her from pushing me closer to the bathroom. “I have a pizza cooking in the oven, and, and I can’t leave the oven unattended.” 

Miss Desiree stands in front of me, hands on her hips. “You get your shower ready and I’ll go get your laundry. I’ll be back in no less than ten minutes.” She puckers her lips together then nods, pleased with herself. 

She picks up my basket from the couch, holding it against her hip. I turn around with led feet until an idea comes to me. “Wait! Who is watching Mosi and Amar?” A triumphant smile stretches across my face. 

She waves her hand aside. “Those two are staying at their Grandma’s place for the night. Friday night sleepover with the grandparents.” Miss Desiree winks before walking through my door, closing it behind her, not without yelling at me to get ready. 

Begrudgingly, I turn on my heels, mumbling as I make my way to the bathroom. I plop onto the cold tile, hitting my elbow on the open sink cabinet. “Ow.” I wince, rubbing the pulsing pain away. Closing my eyes, I lean my head on the wall behind me. I can take care of myself. I love Miss Desiree, but she should be sleeping, not helping some twenty-one year finish her daily tasks. Tasks that she can do on her own without bothering somebody for help. 

Counting to sixty, I pick my head up and focus on the task at hand—putting away the other half of my toiletries that are strewn about the floor. I climb to my knees, collecting the toilet paper that has rolled across the floor and place them into the cabinet. I put the box of tampons next to the stacks of toilet paper before closing the door. I stand up, my knees cracking at the movement. As I walk back to the living room, the door opens.

“Odette. What are you doing? I thought I told you to get ready?” Miss Desiree scolds as she places the basket full of clothes on the couch. 

“You did, and I am,” I respond, making my way into the kitchen to check the timer. “The pizza has eighteen minutes left.” I linger near the oven. 

“Odette.” Miss Desiree walks over, putting her warm hands on my cheeks. “It’s okay to need help at times. It does not make you weak.”

The crack in the linoleum in the kitchen and the random stains that have been there since the day I moved, has become the most interesting things I have ever seen. 

“Odette. Are you listening to me?”

Not meeting her eyes, I nod my head, a soft mmhmm stays on my lips. 

“Look at me, Hunny.” My eyes obey her soft command. “Needing help does not make you weak.” 

“Mmhmm, yep. Loud and clear, Miss Desiree.” I slip from her embrace, taking a couple of steps backwards. My eyes glaze over with tears I refuse to shed. 

“Odette.” My name falls from her mouth. 

“I’ll be in the shower. If I am not out before the pizza is done, can you take it out?” I turn around, my back towards my neighbor. 

“Odette,” 

“Thank you, Miss Desiree. I appreciate it.” I force out before hightailing it to the bathroom. I close the door, hearing the soft click and slump down. Silent tears fall from my eyes as my arms lay limp at my sides. 

Pulling myself off the ground, I turn the shower on, cold water spitting out before a steady stream of warm follows. I strip out of my work clothes, and on wobbling legs, close myself behind the curtain, blocking out the rest of the world. 

Casper

Mom is at the hospital working the early morning shift and Annabelle is out on her two day colleague bonding trip her job requires her to attend, leaving me in an empty house. A very quiet, empty house. 

Wearing my flannel pajama pants, I make my downstairs to grab a bowl of Cheerios. With a bowl filled to the brim with Cheerios and my favorite spoon, I plunk down onto the chair at the dining table. I eat in silence watching the sun rise from the window. It amazes me how the sky is stained with ink for the night, but as the world wakes up, explodes in color. There’s something beautiful in that kind of greeting. 

I finish my Cheerios and place my bowl in the sink. I make my way upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I walk to my room, rifling through my drawers and pulling out a plain blue shirt and jean. With an armful of clothes, I pad over to the bathroom across my room and turn on the shower. Steam escapes through the curtain as the water heats up enough for me to jump in. 

Clean and clothed, I run a towel through my hair to dry the short strands. Refreshed, I grab the shared laundry hamper and run a cycle, so when mom gets home, she will have her favorite pajamas free of stains to put on and collapse into bed without house chores nagging at her. 

It is now eight and the sun has fully risen, blanketing the sky is a soft blue that holds up the weightless clouds. Needing to get out of the house, I call up the one person who is in my contacts list, Benjamin Salter. 

The dial rings three times before he picks up. Before he can get any words out, I speak first. 

“I’m coming over,” I declare, grabbing my keys and sketchbook. I walk out the front door and to my car.

“Okay,” Benji responds. I can see him shrugging. 

“See you in ten.” Ending the call, I start up the hunk of trash that is my car and drive over to my best man’s house.  

一

I pull up to the house with a pale green siding and flower boxes decorating the front windows. Parking my car on the street, I pocket my keys, grab my sketchbook and make my way to the front door. 

“Hello Salter household!” I announce, closing the door behind me.  

I slipped off my shoes before walking to the living room. I have been scolded one too many times by Mrs. Salter for tracking mud into her house that was just cleaned. I plop myself down on the couch as footsteps come running around. The mop of curly hair that belongs to Benji, pokes his head in the archway. 

“I’m glad you came,” Benji rushes out, an excited look on his face. He comes over to where I am sitting and shoves his laptop in my face, the words blurring before focusing. He was the only person to sit with me at lunch after I moved schools. Everybody steered cleared, but Benji didn’t, no matter how many signs of ‘leave me alone’ I threw his way. 

“Check out this article National Geographic just posted!”

My eyes skim the page. Something about bees and extinction. “Sounds riveting.” 

Benji gives me the look. The look that is full of annoyance and an ‘You can do better’ is plastered on his forehead, flashing in bright yellow. 

“You didn’t even read it! The largest bee scientists believed to be extinct was recently found alive! Found, Casper found!” Benji stands up, throwing his hands in the air. “This is an incredible, no phenomenal, scientific discovery!” He points to the picture displayed on the screen. “Look at that! It is an inch and a half long and has a wingspan of 2.5 inches! Magnificent!” 

I chuckle at my best friend, opening my sketchbook to my work in progress. The face of my sister Annabelle, gazes back at me. Her birthday is in three months and I want to give her this as a present. Cocking my head to side, I stare at my work, considering what feature to work on next. I zero in on the nose. I try to draw what I see, but I cannot replicate it. I rub away the existing nose and redo it. Staring at the piece of paper, the nose still isn’t right. A growl lingers in my throat. 

“What cha working on Cas?” Benji pops back into my vision. 

Rubbing at the paper, I redraw the nose. “Trying to draw a nose. It’s not working,” I grumble. Benji hums besides me. 

I curve the nose differently, hoping it resembles Annabelle. A crease forms on my forehead and this time it may be permanament as the paper thins in the middle of the page where I’ve rubbed raw. My jaw clenches; I just started and already needed a break. Putting my portrait on the coffee table along with my charcoal, I lean back into the couch. 

“Benjamin!” Mrs. Salter hollers from upstairs. “I need to go into work for an hour or two. Can you watch Addie and Gavin?” Mrs. Salter rushes down the stairs, one heel on and the other in her hand. “Great, thanks! You’re a doll!” She doesn’t wait for an answer before grabbing her briefcase and walking out the front door. 

Benji huffs, running a hand through the mop on his head. “She always does this.” He stands up, beginning his pacing. “She has never asked me if I had other things to do. She just ups and leaves whenever the boss calls and expects me to babysit my younger siblings.” 

The swing of the front door steals my attention away as Mrs. Salter pokes her head back in. “ Your father is at the shop and won’t be back till seven tonight! Thanks!” The door shuts and Benji resumes his pacing. 

“She, she’s unbelievable! An inconsiderate woman! I can’t believe this!” 

“I can.” I sit up facing my best friend. “Benji, your mother has done this since the day I met you back in high school. Work comes first in her eyes, and family is second.” 

“Yeah Casper, I know,” Benji bites out. “I just,” he sighs. “I keep hoping she will actually take responsibility for her children and act like a mother.” Benji slumps onto the cushion next to me. 

I put my hand on his shoulder. “How about we take the younglings to the park and you can go look at those bugs you like. We’ll make some sandwiches and eat lunch there. Yeah?” 

“They’re called caterpillars,” Benji corrects. “But, that sounds nice.” 

“Okay!” I jump up clapping my hands together. “You grab the youngins and I’ll make the sandwiches.” Benji throws a thumbs up at me, making his way to the backyard. 

一

There are three peanut butter and banana sandwiches and one turkey and cheese for Gavin—the kid does not know what he is missing. Four water bottles are stashed in the bottom of the basket along with four Capri Suns. 

“Did you pack the sunscreen?” Benji questions. He has put on his explorer hat, the khaki bucket hat with strings.

“Yes I did, you pale skinned boy.” 

“I am not that pale!” Benji puts his arm against Addies. “See!” He points. “She is paler than I am! Ha!” 

Serious face, I nod my head, trying not to laugh. 

“Stop that.” Benji pouts. 

“I didn’t say anything!” I put my hands up in surrender, my shoulder shaking with taimed laughs. 

“Your face says differently.” 

I shrug my shoulders, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. 

“Let’s go ladies and gents! Up and out!” I hoist the basket full of food into my arms and make my way to the door with Benji, Addie, and Gavin trailing behind. Off to the park. 

Benji

“Gavin.” I turn in my seat and glare at my three-year-old brother. “Stop kicking the back of my seat or so help me, I will revoke all privileges you have to a night light.” The kicking stops and the voices of Kids Bop fills the car once again, but as the saying goes, peace will never last for the wailing shatters the calm. 

From her spot in the back seat next to a thrashing and kicking Gavin, Addie calmly stares out the window, blocking out the noise around her. I flop back against my seat, hoping we get to the Park soon. 

Stumbling out of the car I cannot get out fast enough. The wind whispers melodies through the trees that make the leaves dance and the grass sway. I breathe in the fresh summer air and open up the rear door, shrieks piercing my ears. Wincing, I duck into the car and face Gavin. He has snot smeared on his face and his eyes are red and puffy.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” I apologize though my apology dies on upturned ears. Grabbing a wipe from the center console, I wipe away the dried snot and clean his hands off. I don’t do well with crying children.

“Benji!” Casper calls from a couple of feet away. He and Addie are already looking for a picnic table to claim. “I have one of his toy trucks under one of the seats. The last time he was in the car, he threw it and I forgot about it.” Thank the lord! I yell a thanks and blindly throw my hands under the passenger seat. Nothing. I run to the other side, yanking the door open and pat the area under the driver’s seat. My hand hits something cold and bumpy. Found it. 

Stretching myself across the backseat, I show Gavin the toy truck which he takes greedily and his cries slow until no more flow. 

“There we go, buddy.” I swipe my hand under his eyes before unbuckling him from the car seat. I hoist him up into my arms and climb out of the car, making sure to shut and lock the doors. I set Gavin on his feet, taking his small hand in mine as we make out way to Casper and Addie. I wish toddlers weren’t so difficult. One minute they are crying as if they need to water the Sahara and the next they are happily bouncing on their little feet as if nothing had happened. 

Walking up the Casper and Addie, I let go of Gavin’s hand, watching his toddle over to the grass and plop himself down. Tearing my gaze from my younger brother, I focus on the explosion happening on the table. 

Addie has her craft of the day set up across a checkered tablecloth. Casper had mashed two tables together to create one long one—one dedicated to Addie and her craft and the other for us and food. 

Addie has spread her array of glitter containers and clear elmer’s glue on the tablecloth along with a myriad of paint brushes. 

“What’s all of—” Addie cuts me off before I can ask my question. 

“We’re making a glitter leaf banner to hang along the stair railing at home,” she proclaims wiggling her shoulders and twirling her fingers together. For someone who is eleven, she has more creative bones in her body than I ever had. She decorates her notebooks with all these different kinds of beads and stickers that somehow look like a work of Picasso.

“Everyone is going to help contribute,” Addie demands. “No buts.” She points her finger at me. 

“You know me, Addie. I would butcher your masterpiece,” I try to reason.

She shushes me. “You are helping, but first I need you to find some leaves.” 

“I’m being banished,” I mumble childishly. 

“Besides, it will give you some time to find any new bugs to relocate into one of your bins at home,” Addie adds before turning back towards her work.  

Lilah

One hour earlier

Sitting on my bed, I have stared at the same page for twenty minutes and nothing! No inspiration has struck and the clock is ticking. Groaning into my duvet, I let out my pent up frustration. I pick my head up and stare at the blank piece of notebook paper. Nothing. Huffing, I roll of my bed, grab my satchel and shove my notebook inside along with a pen and my water bottle. I bounce down the stairs and poke my head into the kitchen. 

“I’m going to the Park and I’m leaving my phone here.” I inform Dad while grabbing a cookie cooling on the rack. 

“If we need you back earlier, I’ll send a search party.” He winks, turning back to his cookies. “I hope inspiration strikes, love bug!” Dad calls as I shut the door behind me. 

Cars zoom past me, in a rush to get somewhere as I fish out my headphones from my satchels pocket. They come out in a jumble of wire and the process of untangling begins. With the knots out, I plug the cord into the my old, old as in my 2001 MP3 player jack and put my music on shuffle. Whitney Houstans, I Wanna Dance With Somebody, blasts through the speakers. Relaxing into the familiar tune of Whitney, I let the music carry me to the Park.

Taking an earbud out, laughter and chatter echo throughout the area as I pass under the metal arch of the familiar expanse. Scoping out the field, I eye an oak tree that is away from the commotion and plunk myself against the trunk. The long, curving branches offer a nice shady spot to cool off from the sun and hopefully clear the mind to think. Key word, hopefully. I end up staring at the same page for enough time for a party of four enters the Park and sets up a picnic a little bit of away on a table near where I am sitting. 

I write the first thing that comes to my mind, Everything is green and full of life. One decently sounding stanza down. Looking around there is the group I saw come through earlier spreading their stuff along two tables. There are two guys around my age from the looks of it, a younger girl probably close to her teens and a little boy playing near them, the sun casts a halo above his head, making his brown hair glow. A guardian angel hovers over its child. Two decently sounding stanzas down. 

The tween girl shoos the guy with shaggy, curly hair away. He starts in my direction and I take that as my cue to move onto another subject to observe. 

Benji

I walk over to the nearest tree. A girl who seems to be around my age, sits under the shade, a notebook open in her lap and a pen in her hand. I peer over her shoulder, taking in the page, half scribbled with ideas. 

Coughing to give her heads up I am near, I search the ground for any fallen leaves. I don’t know why Addie would think any would succumb to gravity. It’s summer, not fall. And ripping the leaves from their stems feels wrong. 

I stand on my tip-toes, I search the tree for any loose hanging leaves. FInding a couple, I stretch my arms and snatch a couple of them off their branch, my heart squeezing as the thought of harming this grand oak plagues my conscience.  

With leaves in hand, my eyes flit to the bark and notice a tiny blob moving along the rough surface. Looking closer, the blob is none other than a woolly caterpillar. I bet Gavin would love to see one of these! Giddy, I take one of the leaves and place it on the bark in hopes the specimen will travel onto it. I wait until it’s body is fully on the leaf before carefully removing the leaf and safely into my hand. There was one tiny issue. Mr. Woolly Caterpillar fell. Mr. Woolly fell onto the girl with blonde hair and now I have to tell her, there is a caterpillar in her hair. I don’t think I can handle this kind of situation.

Scolding myself for being so careless, I wipe my sweaty palm on my shorts and tap the girl on the shoulder. She startles and stares up at me with wide hazel eyes. 

I cough into my hand, tucking my other hand full of leaves close to my side. “Uh, I dropped a woolly caterpillar in your hair,” I rush out, biting my tongue and waiting for the scream of fear. It doesn’t come. 

“You’re not screaming,” I state stunned. “Why aren’t you screaming?” 

She tucks her pen into the spine of her notebook and closes it. “Why would I be screaming?” Her brows furrow as a slight shade of pink creeps up her neck. 

“Well, most people are afraid of any kind of animals crawling over them.” I bounce on my heels. “That is a generalization. Of course you may not fall under this category of people,” I add. 

“Can you get it out?” She goes to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but seems to reconsider and lets the strand fall back down her cheek. 

“Yeah.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts, again. How did my hands get so sweaty? You don’t even like girls, Benji. Before combing through her hair like a monkey, I try to see if I spot the creature crawling around. I don’t see it and Mr. Woolly would not blend into her sun kissed hair. 

“Um, I don’t see it.” 

“What do you mean?” She tries to look in her hair for the caterpillar even though it’s a fruitless effort. 

“I don’t see it.” I shrug.

“Can you just look and see. I would feel better if I knew my hair is not the new home to some furry caterpillar,” she blurts out, shutting her lips tight. 

“I can check for you.” With her permission, I walk closer and move strands of hair. Searching through her whole head, I find no sign of Mr. Woolly. To make sure I did not miss him, I ruffle her hair—acting almost like I am giving a noogie. A tap on my shoulder startles me. I jump away from the girl and onto the sidewalk. Jumping in the middle of the sidewalk, I collide with a runner who plows me down and lands on top of me. This was not how I expected today to go. 

Casper

Addie and I, mostly Addie, are organizing the different types of glitter. There are big flakes, small flakes, extra shiny flakes, multicolored flakes, so many different kinds of flakes I think I may lose my mind. 

“Addie, do we really need all of those,” I groan thinking about how many washes it will take to get all the glitter out if I spill some on me. 

She glares at me. “Yes. We need options.” The sass in her tone is a little overwhelming. She nods her head and continues placing her supplies in their place on the table. I glance over at Gavin, checking to make sure the little guy hasn’t gotten himself into trouble. He is sprawled on the grass, contently playing with his toy truck making zooming and whooshing sounds as he makes the vehicle fly. 

I glance over at Benji, wondering if he found some quality leaves. He bends near a tree, staring at the trunk before lifting his hand. What is he doing? 

“Casper!” Addie scolds. “Focus. I want to surprise mom with these before she gets home!” 

I bit back a snarky retort regarding the woman who has the title ‘mom’ taped on her like a name tag, as if she needs to remind people she is a mother. 

“I’m paying attention, Adds. Don’t you worry.” I send her a wink. “I’m not the one who should be getting in trouble, Benji should. He’s the one staring at bark and not collecting our main supply.” 

Addie glances behind me. “He’ll find his way back, eventually. He’s probably looking at some bug.” She shrugs. What a stinker!

I let Addie do her thing and go crouch besides Gavin, my knees cracking. My nineteen year old body is already giving out on me. 

“Hey little man. Can I play with you till Benji comes back, so I won’t be your sisters sole focus of demands?” His big doe eyes look up at me, my heart sighing at the innocence and purity shining through his brown orbs. 

An enthusiastic nod and multiple strung together yesses as a response, I fall onto my butt, grabbing a stick to pretend it is a dump truck. Gavin shakes and laughs at my lame attempt of a toy, zooming his truck up my leg and onto my shoulder before taking off and hitting the clouds. Laughs bubble out of my chest.

“Why laugh, Cashper?” Gavin plops onto my lap, staring up at me, poking my lifted cheeks.  

“Nothing, little man. I am enjoying seeing your truck fly.” Gavin tilts his head to the side before a smile overtakes his baby face. 

“Okay,” Gavin replies, crawling off my lap and getting to his feet. I stand up as well, looking towards the direction Benji went in, noticing his hand in some girls hair. What the heck?

The worst possible situations flash through my mind like a slideshow. Logic tells me Benji would never touch another human being with mal intentions, but irrationality tells me Benji is going to hurt this girl if I don’t stop him. 

Quick paced, I almost run down an elderly speed walking group to which I mutter a hurried apology, and come up behind my best friend. 

I tap Benji on the shoulder and that boy being scared of almost anything, jumps at least five feet and into oncoming sidewalk traffic, plowing down a runner who does not look too pleased. 

I hear the thud and oof, but pay no attention as my focus is on the girl in front of me with the crystal eyes. 

“Hi,” I manage out, clearing my throat. Wow, way to sound confident. 

“Hello,” she squeaks out, ducking her head as a curtain of sunshine falls over her porcelain skin.

“What was—” I try to ask what Benji was doing up in her hair, but was cut off by a not so happy camper. 

“Get off me you big oaf!” Benji is in trouble. 

Odette

Miss Desiree left around midnight, ordering me to go to bed before she left. Her kimono flowing behind her as she cleaned up around my apartment. I didn’t fall asleep until almost three though. There are some things that your mind refuses to let rest. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a solid hour, before getting up and wrapping myself in my duvet and shuffle across the carpeted floor of my bedroom and into the living room. Flopping on the couch in my makeshift cocoon, I flip on the ancient box tv, the blue light illuminating my face, and flick through the channels. 

My finger freezes over the next button as a marathon of Everybody Loves Raymond plays. Turning the volume down, I prop my head on the arm rest and stretch my body across the couch. When I woke up, my hand tingled from laying my cheek against it and my whole body creaked when I unfolded myself off of the cushions. Clutching my duvet tight to my chest, I waddle towards the kitchen, checking the clock on the oven. 11:37 flashed back at me in dull green colors. 

“Oh geez.” Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stretch and walk back to my room. A blast of ice cold air smacks me in the face. I really need to talk to matience about the AC—the temperature is all out of whack. It only happens at certain times of the day where my apartment becomes an ice box. 

From sleeping on the lumpy couch, ,y bones itch to move and my muscles quiver at the idea of being worked. I throw on a pair of athletic shorts I’ve had for four years and a ribbed, black tank top. I throw my hair up in a ponytail, bobby pinning the strands at the back of my head that love to slip out. Going back to the kitchen, I grab a water bottle from one out of the three overhead cabinets and fill it with ice and water. 

With my water bottle in one hand, I use the other to turn the brass knob and step out into the hallway, making sure to lock the door behind me. I double check that the door is locked and hasn’t stuck and then descend down the empty stairwell. 

Opening the door, warm air caresses my arms, welcoming me to another day. Water in hand, I tighten my ponytail and take off on my route. My arms pump at my sides and my feet pound on the sidewalk as an elephant would run from a predator, trying to find an escape. 

“You rat,” Clara snears. “You can’t hide from me. I will always find you.” I cover my mouth with my bony hand, trying to limit any sounds that could give away my spot. My knobby knees bang together and I shove myself farther into the corner. Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me. 

“Odette!” Clara screams. She’s getting closer. I shouldn’t have run from her. I should have just taken the beating then, now it will only be worse. I clutch my teddy bear tighter, to the point where my hand hurts from the pressure and little indentations mar my palms. 

My bedroom door creaks open and Clara’s voice freezes me in place. I drop my teddy bear. “I know you’re in here.” Her footsteps are muffled as she walks on my shag rug. No, please no, please, please, please. 

My heart pounds so hard in my chest I can hardly get enough oxygen. Her footsteps stop and I know she is right outside the closet door. Pushing myself farther into the closet corner and surrounding myself with clothes and toys, I pray she will leave me alone. I know that won’t happen though. 

The door whips open, the force sending my hair scattering around me face. Clara stands in front of me—the woman who is suppose to love and care for me, doesn’t, just like my mother. Some people aren’t suppose to get second chances. I am one of them. 

I don’t want to move. Too scared of making her angrier. Her hand wraps around in the darkness, gripping my hair and pulling me out. My scalp stings and tears clog my vision. 

“Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Please,” I beg trying to get my feet underneath myself in a vain effort of not being so vulnerable. 

“Everything is your fault.” My cheek burns from her hand, and I’m sure a fresh bruise will bloom in an hour or two. 

“Look what you made me do!” She lets go of my hair and I fall to the floor with a thud, my head banging against the dresser. “What a disgrace,” she spits out, throwing the cup of water I had on my nightstand at me, glass shattering and biting into my skin. 

“You don’t deserve to be here.” She walks to the open door. “He should be.” She leaves the room leaving me. 

I pass by the forest trial, dirt flying up and falling off my calves. I run across the stream and through the opening that spits me out on the Park sidewalk. There aren’t many people out today, only the ones who don’t care for the beach and the sand that always seems to wiggle into the most unfortunate places. 

I round the bend in the sidewalk, my breaths coming out in short pants. I look to my side, taking in a group setting up some craft. Looks like fun. For that split second of distraction I don’t notice the body thrown into the middle of my path. I can’t move away fast enough before the lanky body of limbs and bones collide with me. I land on the grass, thankfully, with an elbow digging into my side. 

“I’m so sorry!” The voice is deeper than a womans. The guy gasps, trying to roll off of me, only succeeding in tugging my hair with their elbow. Darn elbow. “Sorry, pardon me, just, trying to get up, thanks,” he all but comments while clumsily standing up. 

My teeth grind together, biting down the anger spirling within me. It was an accident, not intentional—calm yourself. 

“Yep.” Is all I say, propping myself up on my elbows. Six pairs of eyes fixate on me. My body freezes, uncomfortable with so much attention. “Alright. I have to get—” 

“What’s taking so long?” A younger girl walks over. “I would like my leaves now, Benji. And I need your help.” She looks at the guy whose name is apparently Benji. He was the one who plowed into me. 

“I got caught up, Addie.” The guy, Benji, brushes off his shorts. The young girl’s name is Addie. Noted.

“Well, I could use all your help now. Even you two.” She points towards me and another girl standing beside a different guy. Too many people with too many names that I do not know and don’t really want to know. 

“Thank you for the offer, but I have to get back to my apartment.” I stand up, taking a couple of steps back. 

“I want your help. Besides, my brother and his friend need to expand their horizons and meet new people,” Addie says shrugging her shoulders. 

“I really can’t,” I continue, trying to let her down easy.

“Okay.” A soft voice speaks up. The blonde girl standing behind Benji and his unnamed friend. “What are we making?” This girl just agreed for me! No way. Not happening. 

“Glitter leaf banners to spice up the interior of my home for summer!” Addie claims. “Benji, can you grab the leaves you dropped?” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you back at the table,” Benji calls, turning on his heels and walking back towards the tree ahead of him.

I start to shake my head as the small group follows Addie back in the direction to her table, but a hand on my forearm stops me. I flinch away from the touch and the hands drops. 

“I’m sorry.” I look up and see the blond girl who agreed to help with the making of these leaf banners. “I didn’t mean to rope you into this activity.” She fiddles with her fingers. “I think it would be cool though.” 

I sigh. Miss Desiree does want me to make some friends around my own age. I could tell her I hung out with a group of people and she would get off my back. 

“I was told to make some friends.”  

“Let’s go make some friends then.” The blonde claps her hands. 

Addie has rounded us all around the table and begins the introductions. “My name is Addie. My brother is that doofus,” she points to Benji coming back with a handful of leaves. “That’s my other brother, Gavin.” She points to a small boy playing on the grass with a yellow toy truck. He waves timidly before returning to his make believe play. 

“Casper” the dark haired guy announces, nodding his head at us. He has a face full of light brown freckles and severe deep blue eyes. 

“I’m Lilah,” the blonde sitting next to me adds. 

Everybody is looking at me. Why are they looking at me? I stare back at them before realizing we are saying our names. Oh. 

“Uh,” I clear my throat. “My name is Odette.” I cross my arms on top of the tablecloth, my sweaty arms sticking to the cloth. I can’t move my arms now, unless I want to let everyone know just how sweaty I am. Better get comfortable. 

“Nice to meet you!” Addie clasps her hands together, standing at the head of the table. “Today we are making glitter leaf banners. Pretty self-explanatory. First hole punch one hole on the top of your leaf and then take some glue and slather it on a leaf. Once your leaf is coated in glue, sprinkle the glitter of your choosing until you like how it looks and then you’re done!” 

Casper speaks up. “I think I’m going to go play with Gavin.” He swings one leg over the bench, but doesn’t get very far before Addie stops him. 

“No you’re not.” Casper sits back down. “I dare you to engage in this thing called communication with people besides my family and yours.” Casper grumbles something indecipherable. 

“Have fun everybody!” Yeah, fun—yay.  

Lilah

I lift one leg up onto the bench, resting my cheek on my knee while intently decorating the leaf in front of me. So far, I have covered three leaves in an array of colorful glitter, blanketing the tablecloth in the process. 

“Having fun?” I glance up at the noise and find Casper looking at me with a grin on his face. 

“I am actually,” I respond, tilting my head to the side to get a better look at him. He has a severve face, one that reminds me of a person I would step out of the way for on the street. But, the way his eyes assess me in amusement, leads me to believe he wouldn’t harm another soul intentionally.

“I didn’t know Casper is capable of flirting!” I whip my head to the side, spotting Benji smiling from ear to ear. My eyes widen and my face morphs into a color that outwardly replicated my embarrassment. Were we flirting? Does talking to another person fall under the category of flirting? Of course not! So why does Benji think we were flirting? We weren’t.

Stuck in my own head, the smack doesn’t register in my head.

“What was that for?” Benji rubbed his sore arm.

“You know what,” Casper grumbles out, glaring at his friend. 

Benji forgets about his arm and smacks Casper on the back. “It’s okay. I forgive you.” 

“I don’t,” Casper broads, crossing his arms on the table that is covered in glitter. 

Our group settles back into a quiet rhythm, not sure how to hold a conversation with each other—or, possibly we are all content; I like that feeling. Content. The sun warms my body, to the point where I pull my hair up into a ponytail and the sky is clear with it’s fluffy clouds slowing moving above. Voices of exaltation run through the Park full of families, couples, and friends. My body relaxes and I refocus on the task at hand. 

As I am pouring a stream of yellow glitter on the green leaf, my name is called, frightening me to the point where my hand jerks and the yellow glitter goes flying. Oops. 

I turn around, trying to find the sound where my name came from. I scan my surroundings, stopping on a boy that looks like me. Cal. I raise my hand and wave him over. His eyebrows raise, silently questioning how I am doing. I give him a thumbs up in return. Not believing that I would willingly engage in activities that involve people I do not know, he meanders over and promptly places his hand on my forehead. 

“Are you having a good time, sis?” Cal questions taking his hand away. 

“Yeah, I am.” I look at the people around me. “I met some people.” 

“I can see that.” Cal waves to them. “I’m Cal, short for Calais. I’m this one’s twin brother,” he introduces. I can already tell what he is planning on doing, before his hand raises to ruffle my hair. Without turning around, I smack his side, and grin upon hearing a groan. I smile innocently when he looks at me. 

“Dad sent me to retrieve you. I was told we are having an early dinner, so we have enough time to set up for movie night.” Right, that’s tonight!

“I forgot!” I smack my forehead, scolding myself for forgetting a beloved family tradition. Cal chuckles at me. “What are you laughing at?” I question, gathering my belongings.

“Nothing. Just your reaction is all,” he supplies, eyes gleaming. 

“I’m glad I can be a source of humour for you,” sarcasm drips from my words. I stand up, hoisting each leg over the bench. 

Before I can say goodbye to everyone, Cal beats me to it. “How about we invite everyone over, Lilah?” Cal suggests. “Dad bought out the whole meat section, and veggie meat isle. The more the merrier!” 

Mentally checking if this is a good idea, I come to the conclusion that sometimes the spontaneous moments led to the best times one could have. Turning my attention back to the group, I voice Cal’s suggestion. “Would you guys like to come over? My house is only a couple of blocks away.” Benji shrugs, Casper answers with a ‘why not’, Odette agrees with some persuading, and Addie and Gavin tag along happily. 

We pack up our mess, that we end up sweeping into the picnic basket, knowing that trying to wash the basket will be a chore, but we could care less at this moment. Everyone takes something to carry and we are off to my crazy home.

一

Opening the front door, we have walked into the middle of Ethan and Karters Nerf Gun battle. A foam bullet bounces off my forehead as Karter ducks behind the couch. I shake my head in amusement at his antics. Cal stands next to me and Benji, Casper, and Odette stand awkwardly in the door frame. Ethan crouches next to the bookshelves, his toy gun aimed at the five of us. 

Stalling the inevitable, I decide to introduce two sixth of the Moore children. “Welcome to the Moore family household where two parents have, and currently are, raising six children.” I point towards the two rascals. “The taller one with the purple streak is his hair is Ethan and the smaller one ducked behind the couch is Karter, the youngest Moore child.” 

Gavin pushes past his brother, heading straight for Ethan.

“Can I pway wit you?” Gavin bounces on his feet, his brown curls jumping up and down with excitement. 

“Um,” Ethan pauses, covering his mouth and looking in our direction. “Isn’t he a little young?”  

We all look towards Benji who waves our glances off. “He’ll be fine. He’ll have the time of his life,” Benji answers. “And besides, when he is done, he’ll plop on the ground and play with his truck,” he adds.

Ethan gives us one more glance before shifting back to Gavin. He steps away from his bookshelf cover calling for a time out. “Here, take mine. I can go grab another.” Ethan hands Gavin his Nerf gun before dashing up the stairs two at a time. I can’t remember a time I saw Ethan be considerate. Maybe I should have people over more often. That is, if I have people to invite over. 

As Ethan bounds up the stairs, Jacob comes waltzing down a sketchbook in his hands. He stops on the second to last step, taking a double glance at the unfamiliar group standing in the middle of the door. He pushes his frames back up his nose, taking us in. 

“This is my other brother Jacob,” I announced. 

“Hello,” Jacob politely greets. “Hey Lilah, I was wondering if I could use your pens you got for your birthday this year for my art piece?” He questions, no longer concerned with us.

“Sure. As long as you don’t run out the ink.” 

Jacob thanks me before rushing back up the stairs, his joy from my permission echoing through the hallway. 

“You have already met Cal, my lovely twin.” Cal shoves my arm, sending me a pitiful looking glare. I laugh, shaking my head at him. “We have an older sister, Kim, who is at work, but will be back in time for dinner.” Right as I close my mouth, the patio door slides open and Dad pops his head through the opening holding a spatula in one hand. 

“Oh! Guests!” Dad runs back outside, presumably to put his spatula down, before slipping through the door opening. He wipes his hands on his apron. “Devon Moore. It’s nice to meet you all,” Dad shakes each one of my friends hands, greeting them all.

“Gwen should be here somewhere.” Dad glances around him. “Hunny!” He shouts receiving a series of footfalls. 

“Yes, hun?” Mom comes from the kitchen, a pencil tucked behind her ear and a dish rag wiping her hands. “Hello!” She welcomes.

“Help! Somebody save me from the children!” Jacob shrieks coming back down the stairs, running straight for me, his sketchbook and pens long forgotten. 

“You are a child, dear,” Mom replies, tossing the dish rag over she shoulder.

“I am thirteen! A teen, not a child, Mom,” Jacob chides, hiding behind me.

“What are you hiding from?” Cal pipes in.

“Not what. It’s who.” Jacob glances at the stairs, waiting. Three pounding feet are heard before the figures appear. “Them.” Jacob points at Ethan, Karter, and Gavin who now all hold a fully loaded Nerf gun. And we, are the targets. 

I look behind me, making eye contact with the three people I just met today who are now going to encounter a daily happening in the Moore household. 

“You might want to consider running right about now. If you are hit, you are down and cannot get up until they have gotten everyone.” I explain the rules to the newcomers. “Now, we run!” Like that, everyone scatters, dodging the flying foam bullets. 

一

My family of eight and Casper, Odette, Benji, Addie, and Gavin gather around the patio table, practically drooling at the food littering the tabletop. 

“Welcome to the Moore family annual barbecue!” Dad addresses my guests as Mum wraps her arm around his waist. “I’m glad you all could join us. Before we eat, I am handing the reins over to my wife, Gwen, to say grace. Take it away sweetheart,” Dad winks, pulling her closer to his side. Mum smiles up at him. 

“Lord, thank you for gathering us together today; you brought us together and I couldn’t be more grateful for meeting this group of kids. I thank you for this food and I pray you give our guests the endurance to handle our crazy family. Amen,” Mum closes. 

“Let’s eat people!” Ethan yells, getting first in line to the buffet. 

Cal siddles up next to me. “I love Ethan, but he needs to learn that guests always go first.” 

“His plate is already half full and I don’t know where all that food is going to go.” Looking at my younger brother, I wonder if he’ll ever stop growing. He’s fifteen and the doctor says he does not expect Ethan to slow down. 

“Your friends are already in line.” Cal nudges me towards them. “Go join them.”

一

The sun is starting to set and the mosquitos are appearing. Addie and Gavin were picked up by Benji’s father about an hour ago. Casper told Mr. Salter he would bring Benji home when the movie ended. 

Odette, Casper, Benji, and I sit around the fire we got going as the rest of my family prepare the living room for tonight.

“Does anybody else think this is weird,” Odette speaks up. “I mean, we just met each other not even twenty-four hours ago and are now sitting around a campfire.”

“I think it’s quite spectacular, actually,” Benji says, glancing around. 

Odette scoffs. “Of course you would.” 

“Calm it, Odette. You can leave whenever you want,” Casper defends. “Nobody is making you stay here.” She slumps back in the chair, scowling. 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters forcefully. 

“If you think about it, the greatest friendships are the ones unexpected. And us meeting, was the most unexpected of circumstances given I was almost steamrolled by this one,” Benji points to Odette who flashes him a Chesire grin. “I think the universe knew we needed each other,” Benji concludes, staring at the flames while rubbing his palms on his knees. 

“I agree with, Benji,” I say standing up. “I, for one, am a social hermit and shrivel up upon any kind of human interaction.” 

“I second that,” Benji chimes in. 

“So, are we going to start sharing our deepest secrets?” Casper jokes, locking eyes with me. I shiver at his attention and look away. 

“Only if you have something you want to share.” 

“Im good!” Odette blurts out. 

“I’ll share,” Casper offers. I turn my attention back to him, marveling at his readiness to volunteer. 

“Okay.” I curl up into my chair and give him my full attention.

He clears his throat, taking a minute to get his thoughts in order. “My sister was in an abusive relationship for three years. It’s just me, my mom, and my sister, Annabelle. My dad left before I was born.” Casper glares as the ember flames reflect off his stoic face. “Mom and I didn’t know what was going on with Annabelle until one night she called us at three in the morning, hysterical. Mom couldn’t understand what she was saying and got increasingly worried the more Annabelle spoke.” He pauses. “She was beaten so severely, she didn’t know what else to do, but to call home. Her ex broke two of her ribs, shattered her nose, and punched her so hard her eye was swollen longer than it should have been.” 

Benji claps his hand on Casper shoulder, offering support through the contact. 

Blinking, Casper continues. “Yeah, so, we drove over to her place, picked her up, and brought her to the hospital. Mom says, from then I, I have bubble wrapped those I care about—try to keep them from danger and control the outcomes. It’s more damaging than anything.” Casper stops.

“I’m scared of opening up to people. It scares the crap out of me.” I laugh half-heartedly. “I have this poetry contest called Dewiet that I signed up for. The reading is in a month and I have no clue what I am going to recite. I’m working on a piece right now, but it’s not going too well. I think the thought of putting something meaningful to me out into the world is stopping me from writing.”

Benji takes a shaky breath and forces out his next words, “I’m gay and I haven’t told my parents yet.”

We all sit there, in one another’s company, being ourselves. The raw self that only the darkness can bring out. 

“How did that just happen?” In disbelief, Odette abruptly stands from her chair and not knowing where to go, paces across the fire pit. “How do you do that?” 

“Do what?” I question. 

“Talk about your feelings without feeling like a burden! Without feeling judged and scrutinized!” 

Benji and Casper stay quiet. The crickets chirp in the background and I don’t know how to respond. I shift in my seat. 

“It’s never easy, Odette,” I begin. I try to think of an answer that will help and sound good. I come up empty handed, but try to scramble for words to explain. “Well, sometimes strangers are the easiest people to talk too and as humans, we strive to be understood, but fear judgement. That’s all natural, trust me.” Air escapes my mouth in a rush. “We can’t be understood if we let fear determine how we interact with people. We need connection and that connection brings understanding.”

“That sounds like bull,” Odette says half-heartedly, like she can’t bring herself to fight anymore. 

“Odette?” Standing up, I walk over to where she stands. “Talk to us.”

Behind me, Casper and Benji shuffle along the brick walkway to us. Odette says silent for two, four, six beats before speaking.

“I was in foster care for my whole life except from the time I was seven to ten years old.” Silence threatens to sweep us all back to the beginning, but Odette continues. “For two years, life was great—the best it has ever been. Until,” she gulps. “Until, something happened. Then life as I knew it crumbled till there was nothing left except ashes that I could only sweep up and store in a jar to carry around,” she rushed out. 

I lift my hand up, palm facing out. “I want to give you all a hug, but I don’t want to push Odette, so this is all I can think of. Put your hand in the circle, palm facing outward and leave a tiny gap between each hand, and pretend you’re all getting a hug.” One by one, each of them put their hand in the middle. 

一

“We’re getting the movie set up on the projector now!” Karter yells from the sliding doors from the living room. “Come find a seat or sit on the floor!”

My eyes widen. “We need a good seat. We cannot move for two hours, so we better be comfortable. Go, go, go!” Like Scooby from Scooby-Doo, Benji bolts for the sliding doors, Odette not far behind him. 

I laugh at the two of them trying to fit through the door at the same time. I wonder how long it will take before they realize they cannot go through at the same time.  

“Thank you for inviting us over.” Casper nudges my arm . 

“Of course!” Too much enthusiasm escapes out. I clear my throat. “I’m glad you could come, all of you.” 

“What movie are we watching?” 

“Cheaper By The Dozen.” I can’t help the goofy smile overtaking my face. This has been my favorite movie since I was thirteen.

Casper slings his arm over my shoulder. “Let’s go watch a movie!” 

一

Everybody got a seat on either the couches, chairs, or yogibo except Cal and Kim. As Jacob turns the living room lights off and Dad presses the play button, I whisper to my newfound friends, “Welcome to the family.” 

One 

Month Later

Lilah

July has flown by and everything I have done in the past thirty days has led up to this one moment. Stepping out of my comfort zone and confiding in people I would have never dreamed of meeting all contributed to this moment. I like to believe everything happens for a reason.

Tonight is the night where I will read my poem out loud to a diner full of patrons and my family and friends. I’m sitting in the chair dedicated to the next person up. My knee bounces up and down as it can’t seem to figure out whether I should run or stay ut. My heart won’t slow down and my chest caves in. Clutching my hands together, I look behind me.

“Guys,” fear grips my throat. “I-I don’t think I can do this.” My knees are shaking so bad I don’t trust my capability of being able to stay standing once I get up. They offer words of comfort but all they do is go in one ear and out the other. I can’t focus. Needing to get away from the stifling diner, I rush out the door, the bell ringing at my hasty retreat. The cold blasts my burning cheeks as I gulp in the frigid night air. 

I step farther out into the night, footsteps following behind me. I don’t turn around. I already know who it is. 

“What do you mean, Lilah?” Casper speaks, coming around to face me. He cups my cheeks with his palm. “You planned and prepared for this for more than a month.” 

“I can’t go up there, Casper.” I shake my head vehemently. “Did you see how many people were there!” I point to the diner, my hand shaking. I hug my middle, praying the shaking will stop.

“Hey,” I look up, my frenzied eyes, blinking back tears, lock with his. “You can do this,” he whispers. “I know you can.” 

“But—” 

“We are not going down the ‘but’ or ‘what if’ route. You are capable and have people here to support you.” Casper brushes a stray tear from my face. “I’m here, okay?”

“I know,” I choke out, biting my lip, in vain hope of trying to reign in my fear. “It just feels really, really hard right now.”

“Sometimes you will go through seasons where life is good and things seem to be moving along smoothly. But then all of a sudden, life gets hard. And that’s okay. You’re not supposed to be okay all the time. These times, build character. I know you are more than capable, your family does too, and everyone in that diner will be cheering you on.” Caspers eyes never leave mine. “Deep breath.” Casper takes a deep breath and I attempt to mimic, but my chest stops rising and I don’t get enough oxygen. I gasp out, done with breathing, but continue anyway, following Casper’s lead. 

“That’s it,” he encourages. “We’re going to go back in there, you will be up there for two minutes max, and then we get to gorge ourselves on ice cream.” 

I give him a forced smile, more of a grimace, but nod anyway. I can do this. I want to do this. Watch me do this. 

Casper reaches for my hand and on unsteady legs I walk back into the diner and up onto the makeshift stage; it’s more of a raised platform than a stage, but nonetheless I am higher up than everyone else. 

Deep breath, I can do this. 

Casper

Who knew punching some guy on the street would land you in the county prison. The officer told me my actions were uncalled for, but I would kindly disagree. That guy had it coming. You don’t go around touching other people without their consent! 

The keys jingle from where the officer pulls a ring from his belt loop. He inserts the metal key into the door, swinging the door open and escorting me towards the phone booth. Taking my opportunity, I dial the one number that has been ingrained in my head since preschool and wait. I shied myself away form the officers sight, wanting some sort of privacy.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end picks up after the fifth ring.

“Mom, I need you to come get me.” I lean against the wall next to the telephone. 

“Where are you, sweetie?” I can hear her keys jangling in the background and the front door closing. 

“The police station.” 

She stops and for a minute and all I can hear is her breathing. 

“Mom?”

“I’m coming, Casper,” she says void of emotion and hanging up. I click the phone back to its holder and am left to wait in a clean cell with a metal, cold toilet.

一

Mom shuts the door behind her, peeling her coat off and placing it on the rack. From the moment we walked through the door, I have worn a hole in the carpet from the front door to the kitchen.

“Casper,” Mom scolds me. “Calm down.” 

“How do you expect me to calm down!” I shout. “Some guy is going to be let out on bail for harassment and nothing will be done about it except for a slap on the hand!” 

“Casper,” she warns, but I’m not done yet. 

“This is the same thing that happened with Annabelle. It started with disagreements, then petty arguments, and soon things got physical!”

“This is not the same thing, Casper,” she says with more patience that I would expect.  

I stop in my tracks and stare at her. “How can you say that!” I slam my hands on the kitchen table, rattling the candles. “You saw the bruises on that girl! Annabelle looked just like her!” 

Before I can comprehend what happens next, my hand flies into the wall and pain shoots up my arm. I stare at my hand in horror as blood trickles from my knuckles. I clench my hand against my shirt, hoping that if I can’t see the effect of my anger, it didn’t happen. 

“Casper?” The calmness and utter concern of Mom’s voice shatters any resolve I have left. My shoulder shake as sobs tear through me. “Come here, baby.” Mom closes her arms around me, pulling me close to her chest. I stand still in her embrace, staring at the wall behind her. 

“She fell, Casper. The police officer saw her fall and the guy had nothing to do with it. You do not always have to be the hero. Give some of that responsibility to me; you’re nineteen, I’m in my forties.” Her words crack whatever shield I have and I cling to her like my life depended on her strength. 

“Give it to me, baby.” 

“Okay,” I choke out, her hair tickling my face as I hide my face in her shoulder. 

Benji

Addie and Gavin are at a friends house for the night. It’s just my mother, father, and I. Wringing my hands together, I walk to the dinner table. Silverware clink against the plates as the food is cut. No chatter, just silence. I clear my throat and their eyes divert to me. 

“Uh, mom, dad. I have something I need to say.” They give me the briefest of looks before looking back to their food. 

Sighing, I walk closer. “It’s important,” I say with force and their eyes snap to me.

“Okay.” Dad sets his silverware down and faces me as mom grips her utensils. “What is it, son?”

“It’s-it’s.” The words will not come out. My heart beats so hard I fear it will just break my ribs and flop onto the wooden floor at my feet. I look down at my feet. You can do this. 

“I don’t like girls.” I lift my gaze up and feel one weight has lifted from my chest. 

They don’t say anything. Mom won’t look at me and dads eyes have widened. “I-I like boys.” 

Mom drops her fork and knife, clattering against her plate. Dads eyes widen even more if that’s possible. 

“This is,” Dads chest rises and falls. He tries again, “This is different.”

“Different all right, Jared,” Mom bites out. “Our son is gay!” She says it as if liking the opposite gender is something shameful. The weight places itself right back on my chest. 

“Katherine.” The glare dad gives her is the one I would always cower from when it was directed at me as a child. “Of course this is something we did not expect, but our son is still our son. Who cares who he likes! If he’s happy, then I’m, we, should be happy!”

“But, but,” Mom sputters. “We did not raise him this way!”

“Yes, we did.” Dad defends. “We raised him to be the person he is supposed to be and if he likes boys, so be it!” 

My eyes flit back to my mother’s unmoving frame. She is calm, a deadly calm that unnerves me. In one motion, she is standing up, her chair clanging onto the floor. The vibration shakes my being. 

“I’ll be back,” she announces while grabbing her keys from the hook. 

“Katherine, where are you going.” Dad stands up. With her hand on the knob, she mumbles “Out” and opens the door, disappearing into the night. 

My eyes burn as I burn a hole into the ground beneath me. 

“Son.” Dad shatters the air around me. “Come here.” He holds out his arms for me. I stare at him, unsure of what to do. 

Hoping I’m making the right decision, I walk into his embrace and he cradles my head. The tears let loose. 

“It’s okay, Benji.” He whispers. “Shh, it’s all going to be okay. Your mother will come around. She just needs time.” We stand there for forever. Enough time passes that my heart slowly picks up it’s severed pieces and begins to mend itself.  

Odette

My phone pings on my nightstand, the screen illuminating my room. I peak at the device, seeing a text from Lilah. 

LILAH: Emergency meeting at the Park. 

CASPER: ???

LILAH: Just come. 

BENJI: On my way.

CASPER: Copy that.

ODETTE: See you guys in a bit.

Throwing on my sneakers and a light coat, I grab my apartment key and make my way to the Park. 

一

“What’s the emergency, Lilah?” Is the first thing I ask upon sitting down at our table with Benji and Casper already seated. 

“I wanted to thank you all for coming to my poetry reading. I survived it and I’m glad you guys were there.” Lilah has grown on me. She has become someone I need in my life to remind me of the light. 

“I also has some news.” Benji speaks up. “I came out to my parents.” 

“Way to go, Benj!” Casper pulls Benji in for a hug. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of their bromance. 

“I’m so happy for you!” Lilah leaps across the table to embrace Benji. And in my own way, I lay my hand on his back, letting him know how proud I am for him. 

“How did your parents react?” Casper asks the question we are all afraid to ask. 

Benji’s shoulders sag. “Mom stormed out and Dad reacted better than I thought.” 

We fall into a comfortable chatter before Casper speaks up. 

“I went to jail for beating up a kid who was trying to help a woman who fell.” He cringes, shame written on his face. 

“What happened?” I ask. 

“I was coming home from the gym and I turned the corner and saw a girl on the ground and a man hovering over her. I didn’t think, I just acted. I thought her was hurting her.”

“Casper,” Lilah lays a hand over his. “With all that happened with Annabelle, who could blame you. You thought a man was taking advantage of a vulnerable woman.” He nods. “Stop blaming yourself for what happened with Annabelle. I know you are trying to rewrite the past, but you can’t. You can only move forward and to do that, you need to let it go.” 

We sit at our picnic table, the moon our only source of light. Comfortable silence envelopes up before I speak up.

“I’m ready.” With the determination and strength of an Olympian, I announce to the people who have slowly become apart of my life, a piece of me that I hope they won’t shatter. A thousand bees stir in my stomach, but I ignore the buzz and push forward. 

“Okay,” Lilah and Benji say at the same time.

“We’re here, Odette.” Casper smiles at me, leaning forward on his elbows. 

Lilah

“I was seven when Mr. and Mrs. Reint began fostering me, Clara and David. They were amazing, showering me with love I never truly had. David taught me how to ride a bike, and almost every night,” Odette pauses, scrunches her face as if she is trying to push an image away. Her face relaxes and I give her hand a squeeze, encouraging her to continue. “We lived in this huge house with more bedrooms than I could even fathom and a backyard every kid dreamed of having—I was in heaven. I had my own room, a closet full of clothes, and a toy chest full of actual toys. Life was perfect.” Odette trails off. “We were a happy family of three for two years, until I killed my foster dad.” 

I hold my breath, my heart halting it’s beat. That can’t be true. I began shaking my head, but Odette looks at me and I stop. 

“We were playing catch after I got home from school one day. I got this new ball at school from completing my work first, and couldn’t wait to play with it. I got off the bus, ran inside, and begged David to come play with me. He was reading the newspaper in his business suit, periodically taking a sip of water. I pulled on his arm, dragging him towards the front yard because the back yard was being redone. Clara was inside, doing laundry when David and I went outside. I flung my bag towards the stairs and ran outside with my foster dad. We played catch until the sun began to set. David threw the ball towards me, but it flew over my head and bounced towards the street. Without thinking, I ran after my prize, right into the street.” 

Glassy eyed, Odette broke the crickets chorus, “I didn’t see it, but my dad, my foster dad, did.” She stops, wringing her hands together. I place my hand over hers, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. She clutches onto my hand like it is her lifeline before taking a deep breath and continuing. “The car didn’t stop, dad was screaming at me, but I didn’t hear.Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, gravel biting my sensitive skin and screams filled the air. My ears rang as I struggled to my feet. Someone grabbed my elbow, helping me up. Everything blurred together as I refused to follow this stranger who held onto me. I turned my head and time slowed down. I saw David on the ground, blood pooling under him and his legs bent at an unnatural angle.” Odette stops, collecting herself before speaking. “I looked toward the direction of the screams and saw Clara running from the front door. She knelt by her husband, burying her head on his back, shaking as depair struck her with it’s secptor.”

“We sat in the uncomfortable hospital chairs for hours on end, waiting for some information on if he was alive. I buried my head in her belly, her lavender scented blouse stung my nose, but I didn’t care.” A single tear trickles down Odette’s cheek. She doesn’t wipe it away, only lets it fall. “It was late when the doctor came back. His face was cold and unfriendly—I didn’t like him. He told us they lost a heartbeat during surgery, but revived him. I was relieved, but the tension didn’t leave my stomach. The doctor continued and said, David, the man who loved me like I was his own was brain dead and would most likely never come back.” Odettes chest heaves, but she doesn’t stop. “Clara was heartbroken. The funeral was a week later. People came dressed in black and told us how sorry they were for our loss. David wouldn’t have wanted to be mourned in a place so devoid of color, so that morning I wore his favorite red dress of mine. Clara wasn’t thrilled. It was that night after the funeral when everything changed. Clara become meaner and blamed me for his death.” With a shaky breath, Odette trudged on. 

“It started with insults that soon turned physical. She never messed with my face, because then everything would know what was going on, though sometimes she slipped up and a fist would fly towards my eye or cheek and leave an ugly bruise in its wake. One day, my eleven year old self came home from school later than usual because the bus arrived late to bring us home. Clara freaked out. I am only allowed to go to school and then come straight back to the house. I had no freedom—I was chained down. I walked through the door and into the kitchen where Clara stood. I don’t know what happened that day, but when I walked through the arch, Clara stood there, knife in hand and an evil glint in her eye.”

Odette

“You should have died instead of him. He was a good man. You,” she scoffs. “You are nothing but a nuisance,” Clara sneers, raising the knife. I scream and she yells to keep quiet. I run out of the kitchen, the front door in sight. Before I can reach help, a searing pain rips through my body. My legs give out and I look down to see the damage. A long jagged line runs from my hip down to the middle of my thigh. I try to stop the bleeding with my hand, but I only smear the blood. I look behind and see Clara unsuccessfully untangling herself from my dropped backpack straps. Using this time, I hobble to my feet, grinding my teeth in pain. I only get a couple of steps closer before collapsing. Heaving a sigh, I grit my teeth as my vision blurs and stumble towards the door, grabbing onto anything I can on the way to keep my up. 

“Don’t you dare move an inch Odette Fawn Halt!” Clara screams after me. Ignoring her, I limp to the front door, yanking it open and tripping down the steps. Before I hit concrete, warm arms catch me. I look up and see my neighbor. Concern was written on between the creases in her forehead as the wailing siren of help pulled down my street. 

“You’re safe now Odette.” My neighbor carries me to the sidewalk as the police cruiser and ambulance pull up. “You’re safe.” Like a music box with a dancing ballerina, her words spun around and around until I got too dizzy and couldn’t bear to hold myself up anymore. The dark welcomed me, and maybe, just maybe I would get to see dad again. 

“That night I was taken to the hospital. I was in and out of consciousness. I can remember the pinch of a needle and the uncomfortable feeling of pumped fluid forcing itself through my veins. I was called The Miracle Child; I’m sure a whole list of little girls were told that and I was just the next one up in line. The doctors kept telling me how lucky I was that I survived. I should have died.” 

“But you didn’t,” Lilah whispers. 

“You survived, Odette,” Benji emphasises. The boy who cannot hold a straight face turned serious. “You’re a fighter.”

I didn’t feel much like one, but it was about time I rebel against myself—the me that pushes everyone away and the one who fears relying on others, she had a long time in the driver’s seat and I’m down standing by, being a passenger. I reach over and take the wheel. 

“On the second night at the hospital, the police came. They told me Clara went to jail and was awaiting trial; they needed my account of that afternoon. I told them and was left  sleeping on stiff hospital sheets, for nights on end, wondering what would happen to me. Eventually, when the hospital declared I was fit to leave, the foster care system brought me back in, where I stayed until aging out and moving into an apartment the agency bought for me.” 

The darkness comes from the shadows, twisting itself around my body, trying to consume me. Casper and Benji scoot closer and Lilah gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The darkness pounds against my skull, screaming at me, but it doesn’t win. I don’t cave. I have people who care about me and want to see me get better. And, I, want to get better.

一

Walking up the flight of stairs to the fourth floor where my apartment is, I think back on how much my life has changed since July. 

If there is one thing I learned this past month is that we’re all broken—and that’s okay. We are not supposed to have it together all the time. We are messed up, shattered, incomplete and all of this is okay. All of our broken pieces are what make us human and by being human we are more than worthy of love.