Chapter 3 The Connection

"I think I was in a bad accident because I couldn't remember what happened last night, and earlier, I felt so bad." I say.

"One of the things you couldn't remember was your birthday?"

"I don't know." I brush the topic and look at her again. "You must feel lucky for having this house all by yourself."

"Your parents are so lucky to have a daughter like you." She says.

"You are rich, then maybe your parents are proud of you."

She wraps me in her arms, squeezing me tighter.

"I don't know where they are now." She says.

"Why?" I ask her.

I want to know if we are both the same, but she stands and smiles at me.

"It looks like it will rain. Let's come inside before the rain." She says, ignoring me.

We walk inside hand in hand. She's so sweet to hold my hand while walking inside. Once we're inside, I look at my reflection in Sarah's big mirror in the living room, hanging on the wall. I see nothing but a woeful little girl. I look like a clean beggar. Despite my white pants and my Amber Crombie pink T-shirt, I have a lot of grease on my face, mud stains on my pants, and a big hole in my T-shirt. Sarah comes into the living room from the kitchen, seeing me trying to remove the grease on my face. She stops in the middle of the hallway and smiles at me.

"You can use the bathroom." She says.

"I didn't know I looked like a mess." I say.

She smiles at me again. I feel the butterflies in my stomach whenever I make her smile or laugh. My mom used to hate me whenever I told a joke to her, and I don't know how to make her happy or smile-she's just so hard to please. Unlike Sarah, who loves smiling and laughing at every word I say. She seems so happy to have me here. She appreciates my existence; I feel she really loves me, and I hope she does.

She walks me to the bathroom. We stop at the door, and she opens the door for me, and I walk inside. Her bathroom is big, bigger than the entire house my family owns. I can sleep in this room because it's so clean and big. I proceed to the glass door, and wow, there's a big bathtub and shower. I love the bathtub and the shower; they look elegant. There's also a mirror and a wash sink near the door.

I end up wishing to be able to live in this house, even for just a week. Sarah knocks at the door; I peek at the door, seeing her holding a towel and clothes.

"You can use these." She says.

"Thanks." I say, bowing my head to her.

She is so kind; I've been saying that repeatedly. I just can't get over how she treats me better than my own mother. I want to stay here; I don't care if my parents are looking for me. I don't know how long I have been lost, but maybe they are happy I'm finally not part of their life. I'm sure, if ever they know I'm with Sarah now, they'll laugh at her because I'm her problem now. They don't love me the way they love their other children. I am not special, and the unwanted kid they have. Finding and knowing Sarah is everything.

I got out of the bathroom wearing the branded clothes Sarah gave me. It looks perfect and fits perfectly with me. I looked for Sarah and found her sitting on the sofa, reading one of the boring magazines she owns.

"How come you have a kid's clothes if you don't have a kid on your own?" I ask her.

I continue walking to her and sit on the sofa across from her.

"Just like what you've said, I like helping kids on the street. I have to have clothes for the kids I help so they can change." She replies with a smile.

I contemplate what she said. I hope to understand it, but I'm not smart enough to understand it really well.

"You like taking kids from the street, just like a kidnapper?" I ask her.

She laughs at me; again, she laughs. If she were my mother, she would be offended and get mad at me, but Sarah keeps on laughing at me like I am the reason for her laughter. It makes me feel that the reason I was born is to make her laugh.

"I repeat, I am not a kidnapper. I take kids to my home to keep them safe and bring them back home if kids, like you, have a family."

Oh no! I want to go home, but I don't want to go back to that kind of treatment from my family. I don't want to go back there and live my messed-up life again. I want to stay here.

"My job is to keep you safe, that's all. I have to take you back to your family." She professes.

I have to change the subject. She likes me, and I like her too. We can be family.

"If you don't have a family, would you like to have one someday?" I kick the air at the edge of the sofa. "I mean, my mom used to say that there is nothing wrong with marrying at a very young age or at a later age. What matters the most is the love you have for the person waiting for you at the altar."

"Are you sure you're a 10-year-old girl?"

I laugh at her question. "Is it kind of weird talking the way I do? I don't think I'm special or odd."

"Oh no, no, no. I don't mean you're weird or old. It's just that the way you talk is too mature."

"Really? I think kids like me talk like I do." I smile at her.

"Well, Kasey, some kids really do talk the way you do. I guess it depends on your households."

"Can I stay here with you?" I finally asked her.

Before she can reply, the rain pours with thunder and lightning. I am so terrified that I run to hide at the back of the sofa. I hate stormy seasons; the sound of the thunder and the lightning makes me feel that I am in that dark room where mom used to punish me. I always feel weak and little whenever it rains. And it made me remember how mom used to punish me and lock me in the darkroom whenever I did something bad.

Sarah runs and holds me, protecting me from the lightning and the thunder that I'm afraid of. Sarah is not bothered that I'm afraid, and she's here, hugging me to protect me.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid of that." I say to her. I hug her and cry on her chest.

"You are just a kid. All the kids I took care of are afraid of different things, and that's okay. You'll grow out of it. When you grow up, you will realize that there are a lot of things that are much more dangerous than the things you are afraid of now, but that's okay, too. We are just humans; we are powerless and afraid." She smiles at me and touches my face.

"Are you afraid of something?" I ask her if she's feeling better about what she'd said.

"I have a lot of fears. Some are the same things I was afraid of when I was a kid."

"Why didn't you grow the things you were afraid of when you were a kid?"

"Because I am not brave enough to let it all go. But you're strong and brave, Kasey."

"Can I stay here with you, just for a while?" I ask her again.

She looks sad about my question; maybe she will not let me. She thinks that my parents are worried and looking for me when I know they are partying and that I'm finally gone.

"Aren't your parents worried?" she asks. "Why did you run away?"

"How can you tell I ran away?" I ask her.

"Because kids like you are not homeless."

"I'll leave when the rain stops." I sadly whisper.

I hope she will change her mind about what I said. I already know she won't let me stay because no one likes me. My parents don't want me in their house. Why would anyone keep me? She pities me, but that will not change the fact that she doesn't like me, just like my family.

"People have bad days with their parents, with their friends, or with anyone. Different reasons, different pain, different experiences. Don't think I am judging you because you left your home." She puts her two fingers on my chin to make me turn to her. "I did too; I left my parents' house when I was only 17. I had just graduated from high school at that time." She gives me a sad smile.

"Why did you do that?" I ask.

She sighs, looks at the window, and smiles. "There, see? The thunder is gone."

I continue staring at her. She looks back at me and forces a smile. "Why do I leave home?"

I nod my head as an answer.

It's not important anymore." She gives me a hug, patting my back. "You can stay here as long as you want, but not too long, okay?"

I can't explain my happiness. I think this is what I can call home with a loving parent.