Mary
Mary with eyes comparable to neon lights constantly scanning, watching, and protecting. Mary with beach kissed yarn hair and a half filled smile never directed at anyone special. Mary who is known as Jane Doe by the people on campus for she is never remembered while she is there. She is the girl who runs nearly barefoot down a bleak, glass laden street in hopes of getting "home", to those stacked prison cells, and to the childlike version of herself before mother shows up with the stench of the previous night wafting off of her and throughout the darkened neighborhood in a smog that makes it unbearable to breath, as she hangs off the arm and every word of her latest beau.
Mary who gives up on childish dreams and thoughts of the freedom that comes with riding down the purple waterfall until her toes touch the harsh, cold sand again, in order to watch as her sister climbs up the only bars that are not part of her endless prison cell until she reaches the top and can have that very same feeling of freedom. Mary smiles a little bit brighter at her sister, Brandi, though it is still not completely full, as she ushers her in when God starts to cry. They arrive home before the hands touch a brand new number only to find a bright bubble gum pink paper with bold, ebony letters flowing across it and a new lock on the door to which Mary lacks a key. Mary sitting on the stairwell in her own personal Hell watches as Brandi dances across the balcony carefree, unknowing as to what those large letters spelled. Mary who always tucks her sister into her side as she asks innocent questions to which the only response is to turn away and silently scream how sorry she is in her head even though she knows she hasn't done anything worth the one hundred apologies she has already said. She tries to look out through the down pour of tears barely making out the other little children who are wearing brightly colored protectors against a fury that she can only assume is now only directed at her. Mary knows they cannot stay in the same beat up, green vinyl shack as they have in previous moments like this. But Mary who has learned to always live in the moment cannot find it within herself to be able to think ahead for a place to stay.
Mary whose skin is cold and numb grabs her sisters hand and pulls her into the flood. Mary with feet she can no longer feel runs like part of an Olympic race until she reaches the mansion she has come to know as Haven. Before they can even step through the white picket fence the clean, stable door swings open welcoming them with the warm light from within. Out steps the only person who knows Mary as Mary. The one person Mary couldn't scare away with her black clothes, sarcasm, or attempts at bravado. Out he steps with a giant umbrella and this time Mary smiles a full smile showing her teeth, just as imperfect as her, as she takes his hand and disappears into the warmth.
