“Who I Really Am” by Rachael, 10

My mothers walk out the door. Their footsteps make hollow echoing sounds against the driveway. The car door slams shut hard. One mom was always angry about something or another. I look through my different colored eyes at my bare calloused feet, brown from grime, against the cracked linoleum floor. I fiddle with my big ears and try to distract myself from what I should be doing and what I should have done. I should be getting to the school bus. I should have done my homework last night. I should have gotten higher than a thirteen on my test. I should have taken my medicine. I should have eaten dinner last night and breakfast this morning. I should have combed my hair. I should have done many things, but there is no way to go back. There is only a way to move forward. I cross the small house, and step into the small backyard. I climb to the top of the splintering fence. I look around to make sure no one is watching. Then I allow my wings to unfold. I allow myself to soar high into the sky. I allow myself to flip and dive. I allow my red hair to fly behind me. Then I make a mistake, I allow myself to laugh. Mrs. Janson steps out her front door. She looks up to the sky, she looks up to me. She gasps. I’ve never in my life been as scared as I was at that moment, the moment that someone figured out who I really was.