Even as a child, I was fascinated by words. They are used, in various combinations, to voice our thoughts and feelings. But my childhood did not allow me to learn to say the words I feel.

Many worthy words went unused by my family. [more]

I heard my mother calling me. "Lia."
I walked into the living room. "Yes?"

"I want you to go downstairs to meet someone for me. Give her this." My mother placed a piece of crack in my hand. It was presentably packaged in a plastic sandwich bag. [more]

My mother shook my body until I woke up. "Nana’s downstairs. She wants you to spend the night with her." I got out of bed and took a quick look at the clock. It was after eleven! I got dressed.

We walked from our apartment to the public housing project where my grandmother lived. It was dark. I was half asleep. Nana tightly held my hand. I wasn’t aware of crossing streets or going through the park. Several times Nana called out, "Talia!" Startled, I opened my eyes. I was veering off. [more]

The alarm on my Blackberry buzzed.

Danny shoved me, "Get up."

"You get up," I answered.

"You don’t want to be late for the first day of school," he said. [more]

The judge gave me a stay of execution to make living arrangements for my nine-month-old daughter, Porshai. Then I had to report back to the courthouse to be transported to the Suffolk County House of Corrections.

Before I left the courthouse I used a pay phone to call a Latina friend. "Gina, can you call Danny’s grandmother on the three-way for me?" I needed her to translate for me because Danny’s grandmother only spoke Spanish.

"Tell her I need a place to hide from the police. Ask her if I can stay with her."

"Hold on," Gina said. [more]