Santa Cruz is beautiful.

It’s that city where the sun blankets the sand with that perfect touch of warmth. It’s where the palm tree trunks stretch so high they meet the cloudless sky right in the middle. It’s where all the perfectly tanned girls lay side by side under gigantic umbrellas, laughing at the randomest things.

It’s where my mom took my hand, and we both ran into the royal blue waves screaming with excitement. It’s where I, with my l sounding like a w because no five year old knows how to make a perfect l sound, squealed “I wuv you mommy!”. It’s where my mom wrapped her arms around me and told me in a hushed voice “I love you too, Melodie. no matter what happens, i’ll never push you away. You are my happiness.” as the rippling waves slowly floated us back to shore.

We were a beautiful family living in a cozy home once.

But life threw a bloody punch when my sister was born, because my mom started drinking.

Afterwards, that beauty dried up and stopped fitting. Our cozy home sprinkled with a cinnamon smell turned into a one room apartment with deep gray walls and only a singular lightbulb for the whole room.

I didn’t want to give up though. I begged my mom to get help. I invested hours toward research on ways to make easy money when my mom quit her job. I cleaned and cooked, payed as many bills as I could, and made sure my little sister, Lillie, made it to school every morning. After we lost our house, I still continued to do everything I could to keep our family going.

However, my mom kept drinking, never found a new job, married a horrible man, and continued to spend her days rotting in bed. I screamed at her, and even made her cry. Yet, it all continued. Her anger eventually took over, and soon, she locked herself in the only bedroom we owned, and left Lillie and I, on the other side, hopelessly pounding on her door.

Last night, my stepfather threatened to leave my mother penniless if she didn’t open the door. She opened the door, and said “Leave, Mark. Take the girls with you.” her voice shook “Please.”

And that was the last straw for me. “Mom, no.”

“Yes, this has to be done.”

“Mom, you _promised!_” I cry.

“This is where I belong, Melody. This is where I want to be, can’t you understand that?! I don’t want to quit drinking. I don’t want to do any of it. I just want a break. So you either leave, or I will _never _talk to you again.”

Her drunken red eyes were glaring at me as she bluntly added “You are a burden to my happiness, Melodie, so just LEAVE!”

Then, Lillie scampered out the door leaving me there, my tears staining my ragged shirt. I grabbed my red coat, and stormed out.

That’s how I ended up here, my hands shaking as the frigid wind blows, causing my braids to flap wildly every which way. Lillie is looking at me, tears in her eyes.

Mark yells “Are you going to get in the car?!” from the driver’s seat of his van, which is crammed with garbage, leaving barely any room for Lillie and me.

“Mellie, we have to go.” Lillie whimpers.

The first thing that crosses my mind is that Mark gave us a choice. If we choose to go with him, then we both get stuck with a horrible man who doesn’t care for us.

But if we don’t…

We’d be free.

With that, I grab Lillie’s arm, and we run.

**A few days later**

We’re famous.

After we ran away and my stepfather lost us for good, he called the cops, and my mother locked herself in the house. Apparently, she’s refusing to unlock the door, so the police has no idea who we are except for my stepfather’s meek description he gave.

Everyone is talking about us though. People lean closer when they hear our names. Men shake their heads at the mention of us. Ladies put their hands over their hearts and cry out “Oh, those poor little girls!”. Moms hold their children close, and children imagine all these crazy scenarios.

“They’re on a private jet flying to Antartica!” says one.

“They turned invisible!” says another.

“They grew their body hair out and turned into chimpanzees!” is a common one.

What’s ironic is that everyone makes up these stories about us, but no one takes into account that we could be hidden on the back of a bus right now, homeless and scared to death.

Because that’s exactly where we are right now.

We’re going to California, because when I was researching, I read that one of the best homeless shelters is there. We’ll make a home there for now, and then I’ll start looking for jobs.

It’ll be nice in California. Maybe I could visit Santa Cruz.

What I really want though is to go home.

Then, walk in the kitchen and fall into my mom’s arms.

I miss my mom. My heart feels so broken. I’ve been believing for all these years, and that has just led us here.

I don’t even know what we’re going to do if the police finds us. I don’t even know what day it is anymore.

All I have left is this unforgiving world and a shattered picture frame of a past that is long gone now.

Sincerely,

Caralia🫶🏼

School is taking up all my time😭 but hope you guys enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼