it was quiet on the hill. she was alone sitting with her bare feet over the branch of the tree she climbed everyday. the birds flew into the tree ignoring the girl sitting quietly. her mind was racing though. she had always been quiet but her thoughts bounced around her head. about her chores some were deeper and darker. thoughts and memeries of her father. her family new he had cancer they new he was going to die they thought she did too but thats not how a six year old thinks. she had thought the doctors could fix anything and her father would be better by christmas. thats not how it worked of course. on the christmas a month after her sixth birthday her mother sat her and her sister down and told them. he died in the night. while they set up cookies for santa their father was dying alone in a hospital. she got angery and jumped down hard digging rocks and splinters into her feet she ignored the pain and sat on the hill. the tree was one her father showed her and the thoughts made her weep when she sat in it while thiking. she wiped the tears away quickly.

''no no crying. you cant go home with your face red puffy and sticky! mom will see" she instead thought about the words in her head. 'weep' was different than cry weep was when your body shakes and you make noises and cry was when your eyes got a little street lights flicked on now and her heart sank. time to go home. she walked down the hill and in one swift motion climbed over the wire fence blocking the bottom of the hill. it was called "Pacific Street" it was a dead end near her house the only inhabitants were an old couple. the womens name was prasilla and the mans name was ben. she walked around the corner as her feet began to turn red with the pain. she didnt care maybe pain would make the sadness leave her alone. she put on the fake smile she had mastered and walked into her home.