Part 8: Courage. Bravery. Hope. That's what the man had shown when he stood up for me. He stood up for me....if it weren't for me, he might have still been alive. As I let myself sink into a beige sofa in a room supplied with books, I wondered if that man had wanted to die. If the pain he went through everyday was just too much to bear. As I was lost in thought, I felt a small body squeeze in next to me. "I miss her," Jaraan whispered as he sunk deeper into the sofa. "You miss mom?" I asked, wrapping my arm around his frail body. He nodded, looking down at the floor. "Did she ever tell you a poem about daddy?" I said after a moment. He shook his head and looked back up at me. I told him the poem, but this time, I sang it: "Daddy just wants you to know He loves you with all his heart. Jesus asked for Daddy's help So Daddy for now must part. Know that Daddy's always with you Each and every day. Know that Daddy will always love you In each and every way. Mommy might be sad right now And cry over this. Please do Daddy a favor, Give her a hug and kiss. Daddy's body might not be here But know you’re never alone. For Daddy's with you always and forever, Even though Daddy's at Jesus's home." "You have a really good voice," he smiled. "Thank you," I blushed. I remembered what my mother had said: He will sing. "Now you sing it," I smiled and elbowed him lightly. As he sang, I heard nothing. The crickets stopped chirping. The wind stopped blowing. It's as if while he was singing, the whole world stopped to listen. I didn't even notice he stopped until he cleared his throat. "Jaraan," I said. "That was amazing. It literally felt like the whole world stopped just to listen to you." "It really was," came a voice from the doorway. He laid one hand on the wall, and the other stayed hanging at his side. It was the boy I sat next to in the car. "Thanks," Jaraan blushed, looking back down at the floor. "How old are you?" he asked, pointing at Jaraan. Jaraan held up five fingers in response. "What about you?" the boy turned towards me. "I'm eight," I said. "I'm Aamina, and this is Jaraan. What's your name?" "I'm Devlin," he said. "I'm nine." I quietly nodded, then turned to see Jim standing behind Devlin in the doorway. "Ready for dinner?" he smiled, rubbing his hands together. We all nodded, and rushed to the kitchen. My mouth dropped wide open at what I saw. Mashed potatoes drenched in gravy, various fruits - probably some I've never heard of - several breadsticks with a stick of butter laying on a silver platform next to it, and one big, plump turkey right in the middle. "Well, it is Thanksgiving," Jim said, obviously noticing our shock. We took our seats around the table and said a prayer. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took the first bite of a buttery breadstick that Jim had passed to me. The more I started to like this place, the less I thought about my mother.
Part 9: The wind blew through my hair as I stood outside, watching the birds fly around. Tall, willowing trees with long green arms now give way to the most vibrant of colors. Rich reds, bright yellows, robust oranges, and mahogany browns adorn the trees. Soon enough, they will adorn the ground. They glide nicely on a cool breeze. But there was one leaf that stood out to me. Several feet above my head sat a perfect green leaf. "That's odd," I said aloud to myself, standing on my tip-toes to reach it. My arms swung above my head frantically trying to reach the leaf, but they couldn't. A pair of arms reached above my head and grabbed the leaf, placing it safely in my hands. "Devlin," I smiled. "Thanks." "No problem," he smiled. "So what's your story?" "My story?" "I mean, do you have any other family?" "Well," I started. "My dad died when I was little. And I got...separated from my mother at the Auctioning House. You?" "My mom got taken away from me when I was young. Most likely sold as a slave. My brother was killed a couple years later and my dad...I never met him." I just nodded, not knowing what to say. Then I remembered something that might be a little more cheery. "What does your name mean?" I asked. "Brave," he smiled. "It means brave." "You are pretty brave. Going through all of this." He nodded, then got up to go inside. I twirled the leaf in my hand, studying it closely. This leaf was brave, not being afraid to stand out from all the other leaves. Then, an idea popped into my mind. "Jim?" I called as I walked into the house. "In the study!" he called back. "Do you have a marker?" I asked as I walked in the room. "In the kitchen," he said, not looking up from his work. I made my way to the kitchen, and spotted a black marker. I don't regret going to school and learning how to write now. Laying the leaf down on the table, I picked up the black marker and wrote out six letters in all capitals: DEVLIN.
Part 10: The future is unpredictable. Unseen. Unwritten. No one can predict it perfectly. It's such a delicate matter, for if you change one aspect in the past, there is no doubt that the future will change with it. We all ask one question numerous times: 'What if?' What if I didn't say this? What if I didn't do that? We all ask ourselves these questions... But we never find the answer. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It has been a few months since Jim got us at the Auction House. I'm starting to forget some of my mother's features: where her birthmarks are. How tall she is. She's starting to become only a vague memory. Jim sat at the dinner table quietly and was unresponsive. "What's wrong, Jim?" Devlin asked. Jim raised his head up a little, brushing his hands through his dark brown hair. "It's nothing," he said, looking back down, fiddling with his hands. "Just...money problems." That in no way convinced me. My mother taught me to be much smarter than that. "I know you're lying, Aamina," my mother said, studying y face closely. "How did you know that?" I countered. "You didn't look at me." "So?" "When someone doesn't make eye contact with you when saying something, they're probably not telling the truth. It's a very easy thing to notice." "Seriously, what's wrong? And don't say money problems." I knew the moment I said it, by the look on his face, it was a mistake. "It doesn't concern you!" he yelled and threw his hands up in the air. "Just...stop." He got up from the table and went back to his office. I started to get worried now; he never yelled at us. "What do you think is wrong with Jim?" Devlin asked. "I don't know," I responded, my eyes wide and looking at a crack in the table. I heard a knock at the door, and saw Jim shuffle his way out of the study to the door. I expected to see Jim greet the person at the door, but instead I heard a gunshot... And Jim slumped to the floor, dark red blood flowing out of his chest. Dead.
Part 11: We sat there in shock, staring at the now lifeless body of our beloved Jim. The one who saved us from a horrible life as a slave. The one who loved us as his own, despite the differences of our skin. The one who was the only dad I knew. I now understand what the last part of my mother's poem meant... Daddy's body might not be here. But know you’re never alone. For Daddy's with you always and forever, Even though Daddy's at Jesus's home. My father will always be in my heart. I'll never be alone. He's in heaven, watching over me like my guardian angel, guiding me through hard times... But where is he now? I felt a pair of rough hands grab and yank me by my shoulders, dragging me through the front door. Jim lay there, his crimson blood still rippling from the open wound in his chest. I whispered my final goodbyes to him, knowing that he, too, will become my guardian angel. Jaraan and Devlin followed behind me, each being yanked to the car I was heaved into. We all held each other close, hoping for the best, but knowing the best will never come. I intertwined my fingers with Jaraan's, who did the same with Devlin's. The bald, muscular man who had grabbed me flopped into the front seat and started the car. Out of the corner of my eye as we sped away, I saw flames flicker around what used to be my house. The flames went from flickering to devouring, piece by piece, destroying my home, my memories. And right then, I was only sure of one thing... I could never go back.