Winter: South of Nowhere

Prologue

     "Emma, what are you doing still in bed? It's time to get up!" My mom pulled the sheets off my bed, revealing my half asleep body laying there.
     "Five more minutes..." I said drowsily, rolling over away from her.
     "Oh no you don't," she pulled me up at looked at me straight in the eyes.
     "Mom," I reasoned, "you promised me that for my tenth birthday you would take me out to do anything, any day of the week, correct?"
     "And you really wanna use that now?"
     "Of course! I've been wanting to try that new ice cream shop that opened up down town!"
     "That's quite a ways away," my mom said, rubbing her chin.
     "Please!" I looked up at her with big, puppy dog eyes. It worked.
     "Alright," she threw up her hands, "go get ready."
     "Awesome!" I sprung out of bed, and sprinted to my dresser.
     "Oh, so now you wanna get up?"

     My mom stared at the subway map, trying to make sense of it. Even in all our years living in New York City, New York, she still has yet to really get the subway maps down. I looked around, feeling the damp air around me. The ground shook a little as another train dashed in.
     "Uhm, oh! I know!" She grabbed my hand and we ran down to the subway platform through a sea of gray. She was supposedly leading us to the ice cream shop, but knowing her, we probably weren't going the right way.
     We arrived and waited, listening for the clanking noise of the subway, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching us. I turned around, yet everyone was minding their business as usual. I swallowed, and continued waiting.
     Finally, I could hear the train coming. It all happened in an instant. In almost slow motion. I spun around, a man in a suit push my mother forward. She fell into the tracks and reached up at me, and I tried to grab it, but a lady had grabbed me. I watched the train run her over, her death certain.
     My eyes bulged, and I screamed, but I couldn't hear my own voice, as others around me were screaming. People ran to me, asking me a thousand questions.
Are you ok?
Did you push her?
What happened?
What are you going to do?
People crowded around, growing closer and closer. A couple people were on the phone, some screaming. The cops appeared, pushed everyone out of the way.
     "Was that your mother?" said a cop, and I looked up at her, as she was at least 6 feet tall.
     "I uh yes she was," I gulped, feeling my breath get shorter. My heart pounded, and I thought about what just happened, if it really happened.
     "I want my mom back," I whispered to the woman, "please." She rested her hand on my shoulder.
     "Sweetie, I can't do that." My eyes swelled up with tears, my body getting heavy. I started sobbing uncontrollably, guilt rushing in.
     "It's my fault, officer!" I blubbered.
     "Oh honey," she said, sitting me down and hugging me, "it's not. Did you push her?"
     "No," I whimpered.
     "Then it's not your fault."
     "But it is!" I insisted. "If I hadn't wanted to go for ice cream, if I had just gone to school, she might still be here!"
     "There's nothing you could've done, really. We'll get whoever did this. But right now, would you come we me?"
     "No!" I shrieked. Guilt overwhelmed me, and I started punching myself. I can't believe I let this happen,  I thought over and over. The woman grabbed my hands, but I claws at her.
      "It should've been me! It should've been me!" I cried, sobbing as she pulled me away. She managed to get me to her police car, and we drove away to the station with me crying and crying.

     The tears had subsided, but the pain was ever present. My hands shook, and my head throbbed. I looked over at the clock. 3:36, it read. About 6 hours since my mother's gruesome death. The police lady was making some phone calls, and I was told to wait here.
     "Good news," she said, walking out to me, "your aunt up in Woodstock agreed to take you in." My aunt Lauren was pretty nice, really chatty at times, but I never really minded.
     "Well, lets get your stuff and get outta here."

     All my things were down in the car, and we were ready to leave. I looked around at our tiny, musty little apartment. The little carpet stains, the thumping of the people above us, the rough table tops. This place was my home, not wherever Lauren lived. I felt the water works coming again, but I dashed downstairs and hopped into the car, hoping I could just outrun my sadness.
     I watched the lights of New York slowly fade away, along with my old life. Today was certainly nothing like I expected. I buried my face in my hands, trying to think of something else. Maybe Aunt Lauren wouldn't be too bad. I looked down at my necklace, a sheath holding a knife. It was the only thing I really have of my mom. She taught me how to use it, even though I am kinda young.
      I took it out of its sheath, and inspected it. It was quite beautiful, just like my mom. I decided I would do all I could to make her proud. And find whoever killed her.

                        ~~~~~~

     "No, don't please! Please, don't take him! He didn't do anything!" I yelled, running after my dad. A man stopped me.
     "Your daddy did a bad thing," said the man, kneeling down to get to my eye level, "and he should be ashamed."
     "No he didn't! He wasn't trying to! He has to take care of me, just like you have to take care of your kids!" I was bawling at this point.
     "Can't I at least say goodbye? Please?" I begged.
     "No, you can't. Why don't you come with me? I have a good place for you. You'll even get to ride in an airplane!"
     "I don't wanna!" I screamed, stopping my foot, and running to my father in the police car.
      "Mariposa," he said, right before the car started up and he was driven away.
     "No!" I shrieked, running after the car, but the man grabbed my arm. I bit his, but he didn't flinch.
     "Darling," he said, "just come with me. I really do have a fun place, and you'll get to travel to the States!"
I could feel the red hot tears running uncontrollably down my face. I mean, why can't I cry, I was being dragged away from my home, my family, everything I had ever known or loved.
     "Don't do this!" I screamed.
It didn't matter. They didn't care, those monsters.
     "Sweetheart," said one of the two gently, "if you would just walk over to the car peacefully, we wouldn't have to drag you."
     "Like what you had to do with my dad?" I screamed in his face. He was quite obviously taken aback, and if I wasn't a child, he would've surely hit me. Sadly, they continued dragging me to the car where I would be taken to the airport, where I would soon be miles from my dad, and in the States. Finally, they managed to put me in the car, but not managing to escape without some scratches.
     The car started up, and we zoomed away. I could feel the water works coming again. I didn't know if I was ever going to come back, or see my father again, or what lay in store for me. I sniffed, wiped away a tear, and just hoped that this was all a bad dream. So what if he stole something? He said good people have to do bad things sometimes, so why do they have to take him? Why can't I stay with him? Why, why, why?  I thought of all the times he'd read me stories, played with me, had little parties. He's not a bad person like everyone thinks he is, and my mother has been dead since I was a baby, and he's been doing his best, I thought to myself.
     The longer I sat here in this car thinking, the more I felt my anger grow and grow. They were going to pay. I knew it. I wouldn't let them do this without consequences. I remembered what my dad told me. Be strong, Mariposa. Strong I will be, I thought. Strong I will be.