I cannot say how long we sat there.
Time had stopped.
Over and Out
I opened my eyes, and I was in my bed. Maybe it had all been a bad dream, a terrible nightmare. No one else was in the room, but I heard whispers outside the door. I could not tell who was there. I closed my eyes, hoping to escape back into the nothingness of sleep.
And I did.
“Charity . . . Charity . . . we’re here. Everything will be okay.”
I woke again to see Mom stroking my hair. I tried to shake off the sleep, but everything seemed foggy.
“Charity, we’re worried about you, honey.”
It was Dad’s voice now. He pulled me up a little and propped my body into sitting position.
“You’ve been in bed an awful long time. You need to wake up and eat and drink something. I’ve got a tofu scramble ready.” He smiled. “Or maybe you wanna go right for the strawberry shake?”
The thought of food made me want to barf.
Mom inserted a straw into my mouth. “Let’s start with a little sip, honey. You must be dehydrated.”
I managed to sip from the straw. It was a sweet, fruity flavor.
“That’s it. Keep going.”
I blinked my eyes, and the room came into focus. It was dark outside. Gram was sitting in a chair beside my bed, reading.
“Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty,” she said, smiling.
Mom snuggled next to me and held up the keyboard. I remembered what I had done to the one at school.
My soul is shattered. I will fight no more. Why did I struggle for so long?
I pushed her arm away and curled into a ball. The world became dark again.
I woke again to Mom’s high voice. With frantic eyes, she put a straw to my lips. I took a long sip. Dad’s face smiled and nodded. I could not understand their words. Did we speak the same language?
I am a shadow in this world.
I do not belong here.
I wanted to escape to a world where all people were valued. A world where I was accepted and supported to be my real self, where I was no monster. Would that world ever exist?
Chances of me fitting in anywhere, ever: zero.
Dad picked me up and brought me to the sofa in the living room. Aunt Elvi and Aunt Kiki were in the kitchen making soup—standard operating procedure whenever anyone was sick.
“Hey, kiddo.” Elvi knelt down by the sofa. “You gotta hang in there, ya hear? I mean, we all have to wade through the trashy days to get to the sunny days. I can tell you that from first-hand experience.” She planted a kiss on my cheek.
Aunt Kiki hovered next to her. “Sweetie. You’re going to be fine, just fine.” She bit her red lip and caressed my forehead.
I squinted at the bright sunlight. It burned my eyes. I melted into the cushions and buried my head.
The world became dark again.
When I woke, I was in bed wearing new pajamas.
A dull light peeked through the windows. Sunrise or sunset? I had no idea.
Hero snored at my feet.
A warm body pressed against my back. I did not have to turn my head to know it was Mom.
I sat up.
Mom shook off her sleep and put her arms around me. Then she reached for the keyboard. I pushed her arm away.
Hero nudged his graying snout under my arm. I lay my cheek on his pudgy neck.
Mom and Dad made me drink again, a gross chocolate shake this time.
“This will give you energy to get back on your feet,” Dad said. “You need a few more of these before your stomach can handle a strawberry shake. But I’ve got extra whip on hand when you’re ready.”
They got me dressed and tried to get me to walk, but my legs did not cooperate. I only wanted to lie in bed. After a few more tries, they finally let me be.
I imagined my life locked in an institution.
All of us throwaway kids wasting our lives together.
Dark thoughts floated in and out of my brain.
I heard Mom whisper out in the hallway. “She’s barely eaten in three days. She refuses to type. She’s . . . she’s given up.”
More whispers. I closed my eyes and put my hand on Hero’s head. He was laying across my legs. His stubby tail wagged, tickling my knee.
I could pretend I was asleep until they went away. I put the pillow over my head.
The door creaked open.
“Charity, there are a few friendly faces here to see you, sweetheart.”
I did not move.
Mom lifted my hand and gently moved the pillow to the side. I stayed limp, praying they would leave.
Mom let go of my hand.
Thank goodness.
Then another hand was on mine, this one cool with long, slender fingers. I knew this hand. I opened my eyes.
“My Charity. I came as soon as I could, but you know, France is quite far away.” I stared into Ana’s beautiful green eyes. She put a hand on my chest and breathed deeply, a long inhale and exhale, and my body followed her lead. We sat silently breathing for a long time. I felt some of the darkness leave with each exhale.
“Querida, tell us what you’re feeling.” It was Celia. She stroked my hair.
Ana held the keyboard and supported my arm. My hand felt limp. I did not have the energy to do this anymore.
“You have worked too long and too hard on your words to give them up,” Ana said.
“Please, Cherry Girl.” Dad looked as if he might cry.
I turned away.
Ana squeezed my shoulder. “I will never forget the first day you communicated with us. I felt your spirit trapped inside you. But even with all you’d suffered, you were electrified with hope and determination. I prayed your voice would break through all the obstacles standing in your way: the ignorance and pity of other people, the sadness
