Monday, March 13, 2006


I can still smell the flowers in my parents back yard. I was running barefoot as fast as my small, tanned legs could go. A puffy red floral skirt stiff around me. The tip of my tangled long brown hair in my mouth, wet with saliva. The plants in the garden towered above me. I was loved more than anything. Smart, clever, beautiful. Special. I knew without a doubt I was destined for great things. It was the day before my fifth birthday party. Excitement bubbled in my chest.


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