Miriam Marquez did what she wanted, when she wanted. She didn't care what anyone else wanted or what they had to say about what she did. At fifteen years old, she had done it all: sex, drinking, drugs. She'd been going to clubs since she was thirteen and had even had a 'stripping party', where she had danced and stripped for some of the boys at the local high school. She'd loved doing it – their reactions to her, and their obvious lack of control when she would move near them, was a heady feeling. She relished the power she held over men.

Tonight, Miriam had been left in charge of her three younger sisters, ages nine, six and four, while her mother went to a job interview. As soon as her mama had stepped onto the bus, Miriam had been out the door and on her way to a friend's house. Her friend who kept her in a steady supply of any drug she chose, as long as she returned the favour. It had always seemed like a lopsided arrangement to her: He got a few minutes of casual sex, while she got a hit that lasted all night. But she wasn't about to question it. If that was all he wanted, all the better.

Wandering home several hours later, high and happy, Miriam shakily slipped her key in the door. She was sure her mama was home by now, but didn't really care. Her sisters would be fine; Helene, the nine-year-old, was very responsible for her age and would have had no trouble taking care of the little ones. Twisting the key in the lock, Miriam thought for a moment that perhaps she was more out of it than she realized. She couldn't get it to turn. She pushed the key with all her strength, but still, nothing.

Taking a deep breath and trying to focus her wandering thoughts, Miriam squinted at the lock. Leaning in for a closer look, she felt a rage begin to rise up deep in her stomach. It was a different lock! Her mama had changed the lock!

Furious, Miriam threw the key at the door. It bounced off with a high-pitched pinging sound and dropped into the tall grass, where she was unable to see it. This only served to increase the rage in her and she began to scream.

"Open the door! Mama! I know you're in there! Open the fucking door!"

She waited, but not long, knowing she wasn't going to get an answer.

"Open the door you bitch!" she screamed again, voice shrill and harsh.

She began pounding on the door, kicking it hard and scratching at it with her fingers, all the while shouting and screeching for someone to let her in. After what seemed like an eternity, Miriam's drug-hazed mind finally registered the piece of paper taped to the door. Her name was written on it in Mama's familiar handwriting. She tore it off the door and opened it roughly, reading it quickly throw narrowed eyes.

Miriam,

I can no longer have you in my home. You are not only putting your own life in danger, but your sisters as well. I have packed some things for you, and given you all the money I have. Please use it to help yourself, not for drugs.

You need to know that I love you, Miriam. You are my daughter, and I love you with all my heart, but I cannot risk your sisters' lives by having you here. You are always welcome back when you straighten yourself out. Until that time, I don't want to see you around this house.

If I felt I had any other choice, I would not be doing this. My heart is breaking at the thought of losing you, but it would be more unbearable if I lost all my children.

I will never forget you, Miriam. Please come home to us.

Love,
Mama

In a rage, Miriam began pounding at the door once more, kicking and screaming, cursing her mother. She kicked until her feet became sore, then paused, only briefly. Stepping into the driveway, she began grabbing handfuls of rocks and hurling them at the house, then bigger ones, big enough to scratch the paint off of the house, some, even left dents. Breathing hard, Miriam grabbed a particularly large rock and walked toward the big window in the living room. She lifted it high over her head, ready to throw, when a small, panicked voice caused her to freeze.

"Meem! Stop! Meem! I'm scared!"

Her youngest sister was standing in her bedroom window, tears streaming down her face. The desperation in her baby sister's voice was more than she could handle, and she whirled away from the house, grabbing her bag and the letter and walking away from her family forever.