When I was...

I am 5 years old and I just woke up from a nightmare. The same man keeps showing up in all my dreams, even though he’s not part of the story. I think he’s a vampire. The first time I saw him, he was in black and white, like the rest of the dream. He’s still in black and white, but my dreams are in color. He was in tonight’s dream where I went with my momma to her college. She got to the top of the stairs and the building cracked down the middle like a lightning bolt hit it. Momma still went into the building, but left me outside so I would be safe. She disappeared in the darkness of the hallway when the black and white vampire man came out of the shadows and looked at me. He never speaks, but I am always scared of him. I am scared, so I am going into my momma’s room to sleep with her. The door is shut, so I open it and walk inside. I stand in front of her bed and telling her about my bad dream. Randy’s voice says “I don’t want her in here,” and my mom gets up to walk me back to my room. I am starting to cry because I didn’t wanna be alone in the dark. She leaves me in my room, sitting in my bed, and she shuts the door. That makes the room even darker and I know that the black and white vampire man is about to come out and give me that look. I run out my door and through hers, which is closed again, before she makes it back into her bed. She tells me to get out and so I walk outside the door, but I’m not brave enough to go back into my room. She shuts the door and I hear a click. I try to open it again, to try and convince her to let me in, but the door won’t open. I am crying harder now because I am all alone. I am banging on the door and still crying. I can’t leave because I am too scared. I am sitting on my sister’s green plastic chair that goes with her drum set. I am crying and sitting. I am too tired to move, but too scared to fall asleep.

I am 8 years old and I am playing outside with my sister and Jackie. I don’t know what we are doing, but I am bored. Jackie starts talking about her mom, Diana, and all the cool secrets they share. Her mom had a bunch of friends over last night and put make up on Jackie. Then she let Jackie have a drink of this gross bottled drink. She told Jackie that Santa Claus isn’t real, but I know better. “He’s real,” I said to Kristi and Jackie. Kristi says “You’re stupid, mom does it.” I know that Kristi’s wrong, so I run back to our apartment, across the complex, to ask mom to tell them the truth. I don’t understand why Kristi wouldn’t believe in Santa. He brought us a Barbie doll house and a Bubble Gum machine. Mom never buys us anything like that, so Santa has to be the one who brought it on Christmas. I bust through our door and see mom sitting on the recliner and Shane sitting in front of her on the floor. They’re watching TV. I look her in the eye and scream “Tell Kristi and Jackie that Santa is real,” and she looks me in the eye and opens her mouth. Before any of her words come out, Shane makes one of those “Are you serious” giggles. I flash to him to read his face and scowl at him. He is looking at mom. I look back to mom who is giving him a “Why’d you say that, you’re gonna get me in trouble” face. “He isn’t real?” I scream at her, and the tears start pouring. I feel stupid. I have defended Santa for years and have been laughed at for it. Mom lied to me. I tromp to her defeated and sick to my stomach. I can’t understand why she let me believe a lie for all these years. I start questioning what else she may have lied about. She rocks me and I sob. I am still crying. I am upset when Kristi comes in and laughs at me.

I am 13 years old. I have a group of friends who I eat lunch with and talk to on the phone. I don’t understand why so many girls already wear make up and I am not interested in conversations about house parties. I feel so young. I think I should probably try and grow up too, but I am so not interested in any of those things. I don’t like to dress cute, plus I look silly when I try. I don’t know how to fix my hair. I don’t think any of the boys are cute. I think that all the kids in school associate growing up with kissing and alcohol. My friends are starting to get caught up in it too. Today, I am standing in the lunch line listening to Kayla banter about the fact that Jason likes Alyssa now and if she were a true friend she would not date him. I agree, sorta. Besides, I have more important gossip. “I think Berry is smoking pot,” I tell Kayla. Of course she latches onto that piece of information. She doesn’t actually seem to care about him doing drugs, just the fact that it’s interesting. I am way more concerned with him and what he’s going to get himself into. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends and he would for sure be willing to do drugs or something equally stupid in order to be more popular. Kayla starts gossiping about how stupid he is and how that reminds her of Jason. I need somebody who is going to understand what I am talking about, so I head farther back in line to my best friend Phillip. “Phillip, did you know that Berry smokes pot,” I ask him. “I smoke pot too. So?” Ok, so I was definitely not expecting that response, but he’s my best friend, so I can’t act like it bothers me. “I know Phillip, but you’re honest about it, and Berry lies,” I say to cover my overall hurt. I zone out for a while and miss most of the lunch conversations. I get through the rest of the day, but after I get off the bus, I run into my house and call my mom. I cannot believe that my friends are doing drugs. I realize that Kayla wears a lot of make up now. “Mom, I don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t know what to do!” I cry over the phone. I wait a few hours and she comes home. I vent to her about all the crap and how it upsets me. I have seen what drugs do to people. Look at my dad, for example. I just cry and realize that I am probably about to make some tough decisions. I am still crying when I make the decision to help them. I am crying, but I love them.