→ Everyone can get better, storms pass

→ I don't appreciate looks of pity

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My little high pitched voice sang in an octave that no opera singer could match.

A gust of wind flew past me as I stuck my head out the car window, enjoying the breeze that caused my dark brown hair to fly wild. The trees that lined the side of the roads, so tall they almost touched the sky, blurred together. I sang out for the world to hear with pure delight, excitement clouding my little head and joy visible by my deep sinking dimples. Even the frowning young man, clearly annoyed for no reason, sitting in the Mercedes behind us couldn't put a damper on my mood.

For I was going on a road trip to Disney World.

I could practically visualize my dad and me, holding onto the railings of the tea cup ride, leaning back against the seat and screaming for dear life and laughing a second later as the ride came to a stop. And I could go on a roller coaster ride, the ones daddy said only big girls could go on. And I can see Mickey and Minnie and Pluto and...

"Come on my little bumblebee, it's time to fly back inside. Wouldn't want your head to get stuck out there?" daddy chuckled from the driver's seat in response to my screaming.

"But I'm excited," I pouted, carefully bringing my head back in through the window.

"I bet I'm more excited bumblebee," daddy remarked with an evil grin, one that matched the scary queen in snowhite, on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly how to get me riled up. I narrowed my eyes at his seat, two could play that game. I was practically radiating in an unmatchable excitement, how could he be more excited?

"Thatws im-poss-i-ble!"

"But I am!" daddy whined, the teasing glint in his eye unmistakable.

"Are not!" I contradicted, my glare at the innocent seat unwavering. "Am too!"

"Are n-"

━━━

I knew I was a stubborn child and nothing was going to make me back down. But if I had known that it was the last thing I would ever be able to say to him, the last time I would ever see him, I would have told him something very different. I would have told him that I love him with all my heart and that I would be lost without him. Lost as something I am now.

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"Jessica?" A formal clipped tone interrupted the childish voice in my head. Immediately, I shook myself awake, removing all the happy memories that filled my once innocent head away. I knew I couldn't remove any of my past demons, knew I couldn't change my haunted life, knew that no matter what I did, my daddy, my hero, wouldn't come back to life. The past was in the past and I had to accept that.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned my attention to face Grace, the police officer that had a front view seat of my ruined life.

When Grace had stood on our small front porch, near the dried, unmaintained grass, delivering the news that my mother had overdosed, I felt nothing. No stinging pain in my heart or prickling tears threatening to pour. Just plain and empty, reciprocating the feelings of a broken girl. Grace had stood there watching my every move, expecting some reaction but I stood as stiff as a stick, refusing to give out to my emotions. Oh so how badly I wanted to cry in someone's arms, have someone comfort me, have someone tell me that it was going to be okay. Not for the loss of my mother but for the loss of myself. The loss of my daddy. The loss of the only love I had ever had. The broken down house, stripped of electricity in my struggle to pay the month's bills due to my mother's unbother, only added to Grace's confirmation that I could no longer live there.

Forced on a plane to California, completely across the country, away from the only home I had ever known, I was now seated on a bench outside the large international airport limited to one suitcase due to my lack of possessions, and Grace. Sooner or later, maybe minutes, maybe hours, I was going to meet my supposed "brothers." My mother hadn't ever mentioned me having siblings, which didn't come as a shock to me knowing that my mother and I interacted, if I'm lucky, twice a month. Once when I assured her I paid the bills with my limited pay checks from Baskin and Robins and once when she begs slurring for me to go get her more alcohol. What had come as a shock to me was my daddy not mentioning this. Maybe he had thought I was too young to know, maybe he didn't know.

Questions and thoughts jumbled around my head but I knew now was not the time. Not now, not ever. Now, I just had to play my part as the 'broken girl' and not make a scene. Which also meant packing my sarcastic attitude. Simple as that. Stay in the backgrounds, same as I had been doing my entire life.

━━━

"Officer Grace?" This time, the strong, unsuspecting voice of a man, snapped me out of my pity party. "Jessica?" The same voice called, this time a little softer, with a tiny waver.

I looked up to see a tall, muscular man, with olive black hair and ocean blue eyes, one that matched the ones I saw in the mirror each morning. Dressed in a button down shirt, with the sleeves folded up neatly stopping at his elbows. When ours eyes met, I saw him take a sharp breath and I immediately averted my gaze to the one suitcase laying near me. My anxiety only spiked higher and I clutched the suitcase handle with my tiny hands in an attempt to calm myself.

Officer Grace cleared her throat, oblivious to the tension so high it could be sliced. "Jessica, this is your older brother, Caden. Caden, this is your sister, Jessica." She introduced, stating the obvious in such a way that made me want to scream.

The handsome man in front of me just nodded, holding out his hand towards me. "Hello, nice to see you again, Jessica," he directed towards me, almost as if I was gone on a vacation and just arrived back. But let me make clear that living with my mother was anything but a vacation.

Pretending to be nineteen and working at the bar daily just to get enough light to finish homework in our breaking down, old house. Extra hours at Baskin and Robins, helping whiny children that have no clue how blessed they are. Dealing with the name calling at school, my teachers unaware of anything going on. The notes stuck on my locker every day without a rest, waiting to be torn down before the janitor noticed. Slut, loser, b*tch, kill yourself.

"Hi, it's nice to see you too," I say, the ghost of a smile on my lips.

"Ok, so now down to business," Officer Grace started yappering unsympathetically yet again. But the lack of sympathy from Officer Grace was much prefered over the looks of pity Caden kept shooting towards me when he thought I wasn't looking. Though my eyes faced Officer Grace, I toned out her aimless chatter easily, as I had been doing the entire three hour plane ride here.

A childhood was something I had never experienced once my dad passed away. From age six, forced to take care of myself in this cruel world, without any help. All with constructed smiles and echoing laughter, all which was fake, plastered on my face. Pretending nothing bothered me, saying I was "fine" anytime an adult cared enough to ask, even though I was everything but.

"...and call me if you have any other questions!" she finally announced, as if reading off a script, one that had been read multiple times. Truth is, she must have dealt with many other broken children working with child services and my lack of speech was probably nothing new to her.

"Thank you so much for bringing her here," I heard Caden thank officer Grace, though his pity filled eyes still remain on me. I made sure to avoid eye contact with him at all costs as my gaze danced all around the crowded airport. Hundreds of people hugging and reuniting with family, all with different stories of their own.

Caden swooped down and pried my tiny suitcase out of my grip before gesturing for me to follow him. Before I got a chance to argue about being fully capable of carrying my own suitcase, he started walking away, waving to a still screaming Officer Grace. I sighed, giving up, and followed behind Caden as instructed, him dancing in and out of the crowds and me trailing behind, trying not to get lost.

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