The smell of freshly cut grass filled Yvonne's mind. It was drizzling at the moment, clouds churning over her head. It was easier to think about things in conditions like this. Disturbed animals were trying to find shelter from the approaching storm. Grasshoppers jumped about, anthills had fallen, a baby possum was trying to find the small hole in the ground he called home.
The drizzle was turning into a rain.
"And to think, all the disturbed animals lost their home because Mr. Mgan had to mow?"
She glanced around; grass everywhere, rain feeding it generous amounts of water to grow even more. The animals would find a nook or cranny to make a home, and grow a family. Then Mr. Mgan would, once again, mow his lawn. This would happen over and over again.
It was a cycle.
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These are the adventures of Yvonne.
They are her experiences, her history, her thoughts, her feelings, and her life.
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Yvonne grew up in an ordinary house, with an ordinary room, an almost ordinary life. Her father was a little out of the ordinary when he was around her mother, but she didn't realize anything horrid going on, and nothing did go wrong . . . at least until her eighth birthday.
She woke up December, 16, 2003 thinking she was only going to have a wonderful day, filled with presents, the smell of burning candles, and the tinsel bursting out of party poppers. But that fateful day, she would find out how much she would have to value her life to survive.
"Karen, when will my friends get here?"
Her mother didn't answer. She just went on with what she was doing. Yvonne realized that her mother had a black eye and a couple of bruises on her arms. She looked like this often, but only when she came back from being "out with her friends" on the weekends. She made no excuse for her wounds this time.
"Karen, what happened to your eye?"
Once again she ignored her daughter, except, this time, she threw a sour glance at her through the corner of her eye.
"I must go and tend the plants before the guests arrive," she mumbled. She stood up stiffly and quickly walked away, at almost a run from her daughter.
About two hours later the first guest arrived. His name was Aaron. He was blonde with blue eyes and a dash of freckles. He looked very confident and firm standing, causing Yvonne's black-haired and green-eyed feeble appearance to fade.
Although Yvonne was only in second grade, she had more experience in life than most adults. She knew how to take care of herself when her parents were not home. She could walk to the library, the market, and the convenient store to supply her needs, if she wished. She had more freedom than most children her age too, but that did not mean she used it.
After Aaron arrived, guests poured in.
About and hour into the party, odd things started to happen. Yvonne's father, Donovan, got back from work, and was startled by the sight of children running around his house. He grabbed his wife.
"What in God's name is going on in here?" he asked bitterly.
"The child is having her birthday party."
"Well get them all out of my house!" he yelled, pushing his wife to the ground to get her out of his way.
Karen sounded a bull horn, a desperate action, used to get everyone's attention in case of emergencies. All of the bustling children halted what they were doing and looked at Karen.
"I have special orders to have everyone evacuated from the house. You all must go home, and never come back to this house."
Karen was sobbing in pain from her husband throwing her to the ground.
Yvonne jumped up in confusion. All of her friends were squeezing their way out her front door. "Wait! Wait! Don't leave!" Tears were forming in her dark green eyes.
Her father entered the room; Karen looked away from his direction. Yvonne glared, harder and more filled with hatred than ever before. Emotions were twisting and growing inside of her. It seemed like things like this happened to her all the time.
"I never said you could have a party, and invite a million of nasty little children over to get their grimy little hands all over my furniture."
Yvonne wiped her eyes, so filled with tears that it blurred her vision, so it didn't seem like she was angry.
"First of all, there weren't a million and . . ."
"You aren't any better than all of them. So, this leads me to having to force you to leave."
He smiled, almost happily.
Yvonne got up, looked at her mother on the ground, wailing. She had never seen her life as complex as this, so full of fear at the moment. And right then and there, she realized how much life was worth.
She walked upstairs without saying a word.
"Come back here, you child!" her father raced upstairs to follow her.
Yvonne slowly got her things together in the dark room; some food, clothes, a pillow, and her cell phone. Her father found her and grabbed her arms.
"Where do you think you are going?"
"Somewhere without you," and with that, she twisted from his grip and she ran as fast as she could down the stairs and out the front door.
This is where her story begins.
