For a moment there was a complete halt. Nothing in the house moved. The only thing that could be heard was the rhythmic chirping of the crickets.

“I don’t have to answer to you,” snarled Su Yin.

“Oh yes you do—I’m your mother.”

“No. You’re not.” Something had stirred inside Su Yin. It was like someone had poked her with a stick that was straight out of that fire. “It’s clear that you don’t know what to do with me. You’re not my mother, you can’t possibly think that. I’m just some thing you wanted to check off on your ‘goodie-to-do list.’ Go play fairy godmother with someone else.” The woman stared back in awe. Su Yin breathed heavily while her guardian just stared.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” she recovered. “My husband and I took you in, gave you a home, food, anything you wanted—“

“I never wanted this! I never wanted the fancy skirts for church or all those little pillows—I want my home and my real family. In this place, even the God damn carpet is snobby!” she shouted the last phrase at the top of her lungs, lashing out at the prison as well as the guard.

“You’re impossible. You never even tried. Just went straight to anger and resentment. So many kids would kill to live here,” the woman’s voice was deadly calm but she was shaking.

“But so many things have already been killed so you can have your leather purses and ten different kinds of stationary. I’ve been where these kids you speak of are and at least the rubble doesn’t pretend they’re something they can’t be. It doesn’t try to change reality, it just sinks it in.” With fierce rage beating against her blood vessels, Su Yin lurched for the stairs.

“Oh there you go with your ‘poor misunderstood act,’” her guardian sounded aggravated as she threw her arms up.

“And there you go MISUNDERSTANDING ME,” Su Yin shrieked half-way upstairs.

She slammed the door to her room and threw herself on the bed. The alarm clock read 4:00 a.m. The anger still shook her body but it slowly turned into a headache as she stared at the ceiling. Perfect. White. Blank. Innocent. Somebody kept pounding these words into her head with a hammer. These were the things she was supposed to be.

The minutes seeped away as she replayed the conversation and the fires over and over. Her mind had always been similar to a broken VCR. Soon it was 5:00—5:30—6:00. She finally sat up to watch the sunrise. Sad and slow, like a funeral march, the sun rose and another day carried her a bit closer to her grave.

Then she settled against the pillows and got out blue paper and a box with the paper cranes. Fold, turn, bend, bird. Fold, turn, bend, bird. At least some things would always be the same.

But after an hour she realized she was still lonely, even with the paper. 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Su Yin knew she’d be up by now as she reached for the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Vicky, it’s Su Yin.”

“Oh hi, I didn’t know you go up this early too.”

“Mmm…yeh. So listen, maybe we should meet to work on our project again since it’s due the week after Thanksgiving.”

“Yeh, sure, how ‘bout Monday after school? My parents will be at some charity fundraising thing,” her tone sounded so light and casual. It was comforting to talk to another human being who wouldn’t yell back, but Su Yin just couldn’t say anything else.

“Okay great, see you then,” she was about to put down the receiver.

“He called me,” the words tumbled out of Vicky’s mouth.

“Erik? Noo!”

“I wasn’t home but my mom told me.”

“So you still haven’t told your parents.”

“I’m afraid he’s gonna come over,” Vicky’s voice was now much softer and slightly shook up.

“Well try not to be home alone, when do your parents get back Monday?”

“Eight.”

“All right, so I’ll stay ‘til then. Don’t worry.” the last sentence sounded foreign to Su Yin. She couldn’t remember the last time she said it—to herself or anyone else—but at the moment, it seemed so right and true.

“Thanks,” there was a slight pause where Vicky’s gratitude sunk into Su Yin’s mind. “See you Monday.” They hung up and Vicky went downstairs for breakfast. This was the big weekend right before Thanksgiving, which meant big-time shopping for her family. Her mom always went over the top on holidays, claiming she was just showing a little community spirit. So after they ate, everyone piled in a car and left to check out this year’s decorations.

In the car, Vicky remembered the days of paper turkey chains and pilgrim drawings. But staring at the sterilized, white floors and shelves littered with professional designs, she realized just how far away those days had drifted.

“Okay, so the things I couldn’t find from last year are window decals, our turkey centerpiece, and we need some more napkins, too—Oh Mindy! I’m so glad you cold meet us!” Vicky was only half-listening to her mom but at those last words, her head jerked in the direction her mom was facing. “And you brought Justin, too, how lovely,” Barbara continued. “So let’s get started.” The party made their way to the ‘holidays’ section. Vicky noticed that most of the stuff on display was already in her basement. She never really understood why her mom had to cover up every inch of the house during each holiday, even the minor ones. Sure it was fun when she was a kid, but now it seemed a bit foolish. Justin’s mom was eagerly trying to keep up with the Mrs. Collins hurricane—flying past every shelf and making the salespeople tremble in corners from terror.

“Oh honey, aren’t these miniature turkey lights darling? I’ve been looking for something to hang around the door.” Justin had the same look of confused amazement at Vicky’s mom’s taste as she did. It was just too much for Vicky. She wandered over into the tiny corner that already had Christmas decorations. It was her haven. She picked up a Christmas ornament. “We wish you a merry Christmas,” she murmured, reading.

“And a happy New Year,” Justin was standing right behind her. “So you’re ready to skip Thanksgiving, huh?”

“Christmas is my favorite time of year,” Vicky turned to face him. “You can get lost in the snowflakes or melt into a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone laughs and everything sparkles. It feels like you’ve been transplanted into a different, warm and cozy universe,” her voice was thick with reminiscences and while she talked, Justin was again mesmerized by her deep, blue eyes. He wanted to dive right into them and sink all the way down to her soul.

“Yeh, it’s beautiful,” he agreed. “So how come you’re not into this whole holiday shopping thing?”

“I’ve always thought my mom goes a bit crazy with the amount of decorations,” Vicky gently blushed as she looked over at her family’s cart.

“My mom never really used to be into this stuff,” Justin frowned slightly. “Actually this is the first time we decorated since…in a while.”

“Oh. Where’s your dad today?” Vicky was surprised at how comfortable talking to him was.

“He didn’t really want to come, can’t imagine why though,” Justin looked over at his mom. She seemed fairly dazed while Barbara Collins was gesturing emphatically and rapidly firing off home tips. Justin smirked and when he looked over at Vicky, she was smiling, too.

The whole group talked late into the evening and soon stars sprinkled the sky as Su Yin’s feet dented the grass in the park. Her sneakers oppressed it wherever she passed. It was a cold and bitter night, but that didn’t matter. She sat down on a bench and hugged her knees to her chest. Whenever she was surrounded by people, she wanted desperately to get away but now the loneliness tore her apart. And the wind blew away the pieces.

But at least here she could think. Here there were no more dirty looks. Like the old nursery rhyme said, words could never hurt her, but the exasperated sighs and stares sliced as smoothly as razor blades. She knew she had never tried to be nice, but from the moment she walked in, they were clueless as to how to act. She supposed there were some things an expensive education couldn’t teach you. Su Yin laid down on her back, stretched out her legs, and stared at the fiery balls above. I’m staring up at the same night sky/Keep pretending the sun will not rise, the “Yellowcard” lyrics floated across her mind.

By the time she got home, it was three in the morning. But this time the only thing waiting up for her was the dark. However, in some house on that Sunday morning, all lights were blazing and a woman’s sobs bounced around the walls.

“Perdi todo! I lost everything,” she cried, accusing the night.

“Sera bien. It’ll be okay.” her cousin replied as Ricky watched form the corner. He looked past his shook-up relative and watched her house go up in flames all over again. These people were the reason Ricky’s family came to America and now, because of one night, they had nothing.

“Puedes qudarse aqui ahora mismo. You can stay here right now,” Ricky’s mom tried to quiet they hysterical woman. Both of them sat at a small kitchen table, dimly lit. Ricky turned away. The past day had been a taste of Hell and he wasn’t hungry for more. First the flames erupting straight form the underground, then his two relations moving in to their cramped 2-bedroom apartment—now he really wanted to run. Just jump right into the night. He thought of how the greatest appeal of this country to foreigners was freedom, but it wasn’t in the cities or freeways the founders built—those were all illusions. It was in the air. Chilled, humid, soaked with rain: the many faces of liberty.

But tonight his whole family was up. So he couldn’t push away from the apartment and his regular bus would have to speed on without him. Coincidentally, the halls had never felt narrower. Wherever he looked, there was light and noise tightening around his throat. But what he needed was dark and quiet. And coffee. Ricky got himself a cup and desperately wished that tomorrow—maybe tomorrow—before he knew it he had reached for the phone.

“Hello, Justin here,” came from the other end.

---

“So you still up for that club tomorrow at the night?”

With the promise of that invitation, amongst others, Monday sped by for many and soon the final bell had rung. Justin wandered into the crowded hallway and—

“Ahh!” ran straight into Vicky.

“Oh sorry. Here, you dropped this,” he looked up and handed her a notebook. They gazed at each other, not moving for a few moments, and then Vicky disappeared outside.

“What are you smiling about?” Su Yin asked, noticing her expression.

“Nothing. I just ran into Justin, he’s kinda nice.”

“Justin?? He’s such a jerk!” exploded Su Yin as they started walking. “I heard he goes after a different girl like every week and he drinks all the time. I don’t listen to most of the stuff that’s told around here, but his reputation is hard to mistake.”

“Oh,” Vicky’s face deflated. “Guess I didn’t know him that well,” she said as she opened her door. The two girls stepped inside. Su Yin’s sharp, eyelined eyes took in the living room, littered with charity flyers and community organization papers.

“I finished your clothes, wanna try them on?” Vicky motioned to a bag by the coffee table.

“Oh yeh, which way is the bathroom?”

After several extremely long moments, Su Yin faced Vicky once again. The clothes fit perfectly. The top was black with many narrow pieces of fabric hanging from Su Yin’s shoulders instead of sleeves. The skirt was designed the same way: the bottom was composed of dozens of strips of black, red, and orange material. But when she moved, they reminded Su Yin so much of flames. Her eyes began to get wet.

“What’s wrong? Do you really hate it?” Vicky asked. Su Yin took a deep breathe. She figured that now it was her turn.