Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling into at night. I miss you like hell.
-Edna St. Vincent Millay

There really ain't too much to my story, I'm sure the others're much more exciting and interesting. But I'll tell it anyway, though it won't be too long cause there just ain't much to say.

Don't remember much about bein' a family. Mostly the fightin' that my mom and dad did a lot. Ever since I can remember, they was fightin' about somethin', usually my mom jumpin' on my daddy about one thing or another. He worked real hard to make sure we had everything we needed and my mom was always wantin' more. I mean, she wanted stuff that she didn't need, that nobody really needs, like expensive jewelry and all that. Fights usually ended in my mom gettin' up and leavin', sometimes not comin' back for a day or two. But my daddy always made sure to be there to tuck me in and tell me things'd be okay. But when I was still little, he decided he couldn't take it anymore after she came home all drunk talkin' about some guy she'd met and he told her he was gettin' a divorce from her. She didn't put up a big fight, even when he fought for custody of me. He got it, and she got a weekend a month.

It was when I was, I think, six that things changed. I went with my mom for her weekend and she told me that my daddy'd decided he was tired of having to take care of me and that he was leavin'. I didn't know what to say, I was real upset and all. Guess she'd planned for it for awhile cause she had all her stuff packed up and we left in the car the next mornin'. It was a long drive, we got to New Orleans after a few days. She'd had a place rented and everything and we moved in there. I missed my daddy an awful lot cause he was always tuckin' me in and I couldn't sleep so well without it.

It was a few years later that things in New Orleans got bad. Everyone who's read any of the stories or anything knows about it, so I ain't gonna worry about goin' into details. I had to be careful cause I'm Hispanic and it got real hard to deal with. My mom didn't have it that way, she's white so it wasn't a big deal for her. I hid out in the apartment most times, but one day when I was out I ran into some bullies that were white and tryin' to tell me "my place." Well, some of Las Panteras were nearby, and Meteor ran over to jump right in and help me. He's always been real good at rescuin' me, he's done it lotsa times. He scared 'em off along with the four other Panteras that were there and took me to a hideout to wash me off and check out my bruises. Wasn't too badly hurt so it didn't take long.

Well, after that I just started hangin' out more and more with Las Panteras. Meteor went out with me whenever I did go home, but finally I just gave up on doin' that cause my mom didn't seem too interested at all in what I was doin'. When things got bad with everything, I knew I could always count on Meteor and the others. And when that horrible, scary Auntoni started doing things, it got real awful. I got caught a couple times and well, he just scared me a lot. I didn't really get hurt or nothin' and maybe I kinda sound like a baby, but I can't help it. I have bad dreams about that sometimes, though Meteor did the best thing for me ever when I said once that I wanted my daddy and he and Tricks found him. Meteor went and brought him to me and I found out he didn't really want me to go, that my mom had taken me without his permission. I now have him and I can't thank Meteor enough for helping get him for me. I'm just real lucky and things feel better, though I still don't like going out much. Everytime I do it seems like Auntoni does something and people disappear. But now he's left Okanu and maybe he'll stop buggin' us, but I doubt it. But at least I got my daddy now and he can tuck me in at nights so maybe things'll keep getting better. It's a good sign, I think.

A child understands fear and the hurt and hate it brings.
—Epictetus

How many hopes and fears, how many ardent wishes and anxious apprehensions are twisted together in the threads that connect the parent with the child!
-Samuel Griswold Goodrich