I remember very little from that night. It was raining. Dark. Cold. It was a typical night on the reservation of La Push, located in Washington.
This is where I was born. My family consisted of me, my mother, my father, and my older brother Sam. My brother was six years older than me. He was often over-protective, but he was the best brother a girl could ask for. Well, considering the fact that at five years old, there wasn't really much other than getting picked on by some of the other kids on the rez. There weren't any boys, well, at least not yet. Sam took care of me, but there was no way he could prevent or stop what was going to happen.
That night went by quickly, all my memories of that night are vague. Maybe its because I tried to forget. I tried to forget about my loving mother, and the brother that I cared for so much because I knew I was never going to see them again.
I was five years old when my dad woke me up in the middle of a cold, stormy night. I was still half asleep when he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He had two suitcases in the the backseat of our truck. He gently placed me on the passenger seat and drove away.
The only thing I managed to say was, "daddy, where are we going?"
I remember the look in his eyes. They were full of shame and guilt. He quickly averted my gaze and turned to focus on the road.
"Away."
That's all he said that night. When I woke up in the morning, we were still driving. The cold look in my father's eyes told me all I needed to know. I wasn't going to see my mother again. I wasn't going to see Sam again.
My father looked angry, agitated almost.
"Da-" was the only thing I managed to say before he cut me off.
"No questions, baby." He wouldn't even look me in the eye.
"We're going away, to California. Momma didn't want us anymore. It's just her and Sam now, but don't worry. We're gonna live a good life"
All I could do at that point was trust the father that took me away from my home. From my loved ones. From Sam. I was five. I was helpless.
He promised me the good life, but it was all lies. After settling in southern California, the dream that he had for us turned into nothing but a nightmare for me. My dad would work all the time. I walked myself to school. I learned to fix myself up dinner. I was the definition of a latch-key kid. The small apartment wasn't even nice. I often wondered why we lived in such a crap shack when my dad was working all the time. It didn't occur to me until I was about 7. He came home late at night and often reeked of beer. He was gambling away our income.
Why did he take me with him, I often wondered.
Maybe it was because I was always a quiet kid who did what she was told. That's why Sam had to take care of me all the time. I would always get bullied because I was weak, because I always obeyed and never commanded. My dad took me with him because it was a convenience for him probably. We got government help because he was a "single dad." He always needed me to fix him up something to settle his stomach, and when I was old enough, all my free time was used to earn some sort of income for food and rent.
I hated this. I always wished Sam would come find me, but I had no idea how to even contact anyone in La Push. I was young, I didn't remember any phone numbers or anything. Did I even want to go back to La Push? What did they think happened. My dad practically kidnapped me and no one ever tried to find me. What if they didn't want me.
This place was a hellhole. No matter how long I stayed here with dad, I always felt that my home was back in La Push. It was back on the Rez. It was back with mom and Sam.
I was afraid though. I was afraid they wouldn't accept me. I've been gone so long, I'm practically considered an outsider.
It was the last day of school and I was headed home. I went to go pick up my pay check from my part time job at the frozen yogurt place before I headed back to the small apartment.
After getting my paycheck and depositing it at the bank, I had $608.23 in my account. Maybe I could go get some new clothes, I've been having to live at what was available in the local thrift shop for the past couple years. I could consider a little shopping spree a birthday gift to myself. My sixteenth birthday did just pass a couple days ago. I spent it school, then at work, then on my futon. My dad was no where to be seen.
I wouldn't be able to spend any of it until I see if my paycheck was enough to cover the bills and the rent first though.
I hurried home, excited to see if I would have enough for that new pair of shoes I've been eyeing down at Forever 21. I came home to an empty house. I wasn't surprised. Sometimes my dad would disappear for days at a time and come back only when he was out of money or hungry. He was a drunk and a compulsive gambler. That's Joshua Uley for you.
I sat down at the small table we had in the middle of the apartment, there weren't really rooms. It was a really small apartment. I was just starting to open bills when there was a knock at the door.
I pushed the chair back and got up on my feet. I straightened out my clothes before heading towards the door. I peeped through the window to see a middle aged woman. She had dark hair, pulled up into a bun and was wearing professional attire. I opened the door only to meet eyes with this woman.
"Are you Kiana Uley?" Her tone of voice was sad. Her eyes were full of pity as she stared into my dark brown eyes. She eyed me, up and down, starting at my disheveled black hair pulled up into a messy top knot. She made her way down to my round face, clearly noting deep russet color of my skin. She continued to look at me, my petit figure, only standing at 5'4 and my rather large, almond shaped eyes.
"Yes," I respond politely. "How may I help you?"
She looked at me and quickly pulled me into an embrace. I was extremely confused as I gently pushed her away.
She stared sincerely into my eyes as she broke the news.
"Your father was involved in an accident. He was walking down the street, intoxicated when he was hit by a car." She slowly gazed around the apartment, "but it doesn't look like he was a fit parent anyways."
"Please don't talk about my father that way," I calmly say. I completely agreed with her, there was no way he was a fit parent, but he was family nonetheless.
"Well dear," she said. "I'm a social worker and I'm here to take you to visit your father. Then we'll decide what to do with you, or where to put you."
There wasn't much. I grabbed the few clothes I had, and the money that I had stashed away for emergency purposes. I knew that there was no returning to this place that was supposedly my "home."
I grabbed my backpack and stuffed my clothes in there as well as the money. I grabbed my wallet which had my identification cards and debit card and quickly shoved it into the front pocket. I quickly slipped on the one pair of sneakers I owned and followed the woman.
We quickly drove to the local hospital which was about fifteen minutes away. On the way to the hospital, I couldn't help but burst into tears. As much trouble as he caused me, he was my father. He was my family.
We stepped into the emergency room that my father was placed in. Before I passed through the doors, the doctor whispered to me, "he doesn't have much time left."
I wiped my nose with my sleeve and approached the bed that held my father.
"Dad," I whisper.
There was so many machines connected to him. So many wires, the tears just burst out when I saw him.
He reached his palm out and caressed my face. There were bandages everywhere. He brushed his fingers through my hair and proceeded to speak.
"Kiana, I'm sorry," he managed to say.
"No dad, don't be sorry. I -" he cut me off.
"Kiana, I stole you from your mother. I took you away from Sam. All because I was afraid of having to support the family. I couldn't take the responsibility, which was hypocritical, because I took you. But I took you because you were my little girl, but I wasn't able to take care of you." he paused.
"Most of the time, you took care of me, " he chuckled. "I know that it's my time to go soon and I just wanted to tell you sorry, and thank you."
At this point, I couldn't stop the tears, I couldn't even try, they were pouring out of my eyes, completely soaking his bed sheets.
"Kiana, go back to La Push. Go back to your mother, go back to Sam, go back. Tell them I'm sorry. "
Go back to La Push? But I didn't belong there anymore. I was an outsider, they don't want me.
"But dad, La Push isn't where- "
"Believe me Kiana," he muttered. I could tell he was getting weaker by the minute. "La Push is your home. It's where you belong."
I gripped his hand tightly, only crying and nodding at his every word.
"I've already made arrangements to fly you out to Washington. It's just up to you to call the tribe. Call Billy Black, here's his number."
He handed me a scrap of paper with numbers scribbled on it. I just continued to nod.
"I love you baby girl," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"I love you too dad, and you have nothing to be sorry about." I continued to bawl, clutching his warm hand. Suddenly, his fingers went limp and his heart beat ceased.
I placed a kiss on his forehead and left the room. The professional looking woman was waiting for me outside.
"I heard you have family in Washington?" she questioned.
I only managed to nod.
"And your travel plans are already set?"
I nodded once again.
"Do you need help with anything?" She had a tone of genuine concern in her voice.
"I.. I need to get to the airport tomorrow morning," I blubbered.
"Alright dear," she smiled a small, pitiful smile as she put her hand and patted my shoulder.
I stared at the piece of scrap paper I was clutching in my hands. I needed to call Billy Black.