It's 3am and I'm awake. For about 16 nights in a roll I wake up at 3, find some sleep around 5:30 am, and then wake up at 7. I could never sleep if I'm nervous. It hasn't happen since my pa died when I was a little girl. The feelings of nauseous, light headed, and inability to sleep, has torched me for years. But for the pasted 2 months the weather has been out of wack and the cause for my strange feelings and behavior. The weather would go from extreme heat to the bone chilling cold in the matter of hours. So Drooping off and picking up my daughter Wanda from school is hard enough with or without the nearly impossible weather. Some days you don't know wither to wear a coat or just run out with just a tank top. The news says to stay calm and in doors. But staying calm and in doors is not good enough. People outside take advantage of the power shortages that are caused by the heat. People are robbing, killing, and raping. Without power there's no way of reaching the police. Being suck right in the middle of Manhattan. The city that never sleeps. There's always a problem. And now even more because of the weather. I stay up until it's time to get ready. I walk into the bathroom and take a shower. By the time I'm in the kitchen making Wanda, my 8 years old daughter someone eggs and toast. She's at the doorway of the kitchen taping her foot on the floor. The look on her face explains it all. It's almost time to leave and I'm not even done with breakfast. "Mom, I can't find my pencil case. I looked everywhere. It's not in my room or in the bathroom." Wanda says, throwing her hands up in the air. "Sweetheart remember you left it in the living room." she runs to the living room to look for her pencil case. "I got it. And its late" I hear the t.v. Turn on to the news. I finish up Wanda's eggs and toast, I walk over to the island and put it on the setting side. I walk towards the living room to let her know breakfast is ready when I hear the news say no school for the tri-state area. I walk into the living room. Wanda is counting the pencils in the case. "I guess there's no school for you kiddo." I say to Wanda. She looks at me. "I got up and ready for nothing?" she pretends to shout to herself. I laugh. " Hey, at least we didn't leave early." She's may be 8 but she has a lot of personality. So much that by the age of 4 'who's my daddy?' questions popped up. I didn't know how to response. At the time, there was no man to put the daddy card on, no father figure to look up to. Grandpa had passed away long before she was born. And I am the only child. So no uncle's. And after the night I conceived Wanda. Definitely no mom's boyfriend. So I'm always a little surprise that the daddy question came up. So confused on how to tell my 4 years old, big blue eyes, long wavy brown haired, round faced daughter that I never knew her daddy. No man, or boy I guess at no time or date, was ever on the who's your father list. Well of course it was because I got raped. Raped by some man outside at 12:20 pm. By a man who just decided that my choice was not a option. And thought that I was a 16 year old tramp, and willing to have sex with anyone. But I don't dwell on the past. Letting myself relive the day over and over, Is not an options. After a few months, I started to get big. Mother took me to the doctor to find out I was around 4 months pregnant. From that day on I knew what I had to do. Moping around the house was no longer a option, I had a baby to take care of, a little life that needed my life, to live and grow. So I pushed everything to the side and focus on getting healthy. I finished school up early. Got a job. And ever since me and Wanda have been on our own. This morning the degree was 10 now it's starting to work its way up to 101. And by 3:00pm it's time to put on an air conditioner. Wanda starts wheezing. With the weather this way, Wanda's asthma acts up. There would be endless nights I'd wake up to her running in to my room wheezing. I'd have to run in to the bathroom or kitchen to get her pump. This time, on the way to the kitchen to get the pump I hear a knock on the door. " Give me a second!" I call to the door. I grab the pump and run over to Wanda and hand it to her. She takes it and I walk over to the door and open to see who it is. And it's Avery our next door neighbor. Avery is 5'5, a redhead, Brown eyed, quite loud neighbor. Most of the time she brings men in and out of her apartment. She's the type of neighbor you'd have to wake up in the middle of the night to knock on the door because her and her new boyfriend are slightly to loud. And I use the term 'Slightly' lightly. "Sage, I was wondering if you and Wanda were going to the docks?" she asked. She wasn't really fond of me, but Wanda she adored. With the casual knock on our door to give her cookies was an apology to me, but also a gift to Wanda. A gift to Wanda because she barely had any sweets. All of my money had to go on the apartment , sometimes we barely get by. So I can't really stay mad at Avery. I can't be mad at someone who adores Wanda as much as I do.