sun's rising to a new day-open-

[aunie kennedy]

I've been living in Blue Heights since I was ten years old and yet, I just can't seem to let go of the past. It's like, every second of my life is spent looking back and wondering if things will ever catch up again. People say I'm this childish little thing, but they don't know what it was like to lose my childhood so young. Sometimes, I can still feel my youth being ripped from my grasp.

It's not just the loss of my youth though. I still remember him. I remember my real dad hurting me. I remember each bruise, scar, and scratch as though they're etched into the very fiber of my being. I still have some of thsoe scars. Like, the one on my hand, the little cresent moon. The emotional damage is too much. Some mornings I wake and feel the earth slipping away from me. It makes me love being alive even more though.

Think of every second I got back because of Blue Heights. Think of every snippet of my youth I am able to recover now. Think of life living with Aunt Rusty, the twins, and Ben. I'm so greatful just to be living and breathing at this very moment. I send so much gratitude to Aunt Rusty for saving me, for helping me escape. Now it seems that the sun's rising to a new day every day. I couldn't be more happy.

But why can't I jsut let go of the bad things? Why am I always lost in this endless frustration?
-Aunie

She sat on a stool before her easel. Her notebook was on her lap and her art momentarily set aside. Aunie loved journaling in her battered old composition notebook. It held all her most prized secrets. The only person who'd ever even taken a peek inside was James and only once because she caved in. It had to make her laugh.

She dotted her last i and set her notebook down. The fifteen year old girl was sitting in the awkwardly shaped art room of her Aunt Rusty's house. She'd been living there for so many years now that it really felt as though it had always been home to her.

She could faintly hear Ben or one of the twins upstairs in the hall running. She smiled thinking of what Rusty would say if she saw them running. Aunt Rusty could sure holler if she thought something was wrong.

The scents of oil paints and fresh air from the open window met Aunie's nostrils as she dabbed a bit of purple to her painting. A smudge of black was her current face gear as her paintbrush constantly met her skin. Aunie was in love with art and simply couldn't hide it.

She wodnered what was going on that day. It was summer, it was the weekend. Who would be out and about? Aunie turned herself round to spy the screen door into the art studio. No one had come to their doorstep yet, but someone almost always did that time of day.

She went back to her painting contentedly and then sat back to see what needed more. Things did feel at peace. How could she possibly be worrying about leaving the past in the past? That's all she wanted, was for it to stay in the past.