Christina sat in a corner of her apartment out of the way of the movers that were carelessly packing all of their belongings. Every now and then, Monica would ask her if she wanted to keep a certain object, or should she just throw it out. Christina would give the occasional 'yes' or 'nah, just toss it' and then return to her quiet dark world. Taylor had told her the other night that Jenks was where he was born and it was about an hours drive from Tulsa. So he promised her that the next time he was in Tulsa he would pay her a visit. It was of a certain comfort to know that the Hanson's would be there for them, and it was also reassuring when Taylor said he'd never forget her and that she'd always have a place in his heart. But at the same time it hurt to know that she depended on that kind of friendship. A week ago, her mother would come home and occasionally she'd be drunk. Monica would get the occasional beating, but it was never anything out of the ordinary. She was used to that kind of lifestyle. She sat and fiddled with her hair and tried to imagine what Taylor looked like. The descriptions that Monica gave her never seemed to satisfy her. Monica always said, " He's got blonde hair, icy blue eyes, a skinny but manly figure and the most irresistable face. " What kind of description was that? What she needed was somewhat of a photograph of him. She was so curious about everything. She sat and thought for a while. She had only known Taylor and the rest of the Hanson's for a short while, but she was getting very attached to them. Especially Taylor. For some reason he made her feel special. Not special in the way that she had a handicap and she was different, but special in the way that she was somebody. That she actually had a place in the world and that she was unique. She used to think, "well, I'm unique and so is everybody else, so who cares if I'm unique". But all of the sudden she found the reason to get up in the morning. She was now determined to live. Christina felt a tap on her shoulder and she gently grabbed the arm which had touched her. She felt it for a second and realized that the arm belonged to Mrs. Hanson.
"Come on honey, It's time to go," Mrs. Hanson said in a soft voice.
"Is everything ready to be shipped?" Christina asked.
"Yes dear. Everything is ready. Now come on, you have a plane to catch."
Christina lifted herself up and searched for her walking stick. She held Mrs. Hanson's arm and walked out the door. Into a new life.
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