I hurry through the downpour, my high heels clicking against the sidewalk. Rain seeps off the overhangs of roofs. The pounding rain is constant against my ears and the streets run mini rivers. The weather channel said it was supposed to storm. I didn’t know they meant this much. 

    I quickly make my way down Main Street hustling to get to work. I pass boarded-up shops and abandoned buildings. This is less of a city and more of a ghost town. That’s when I see it. A mush of cardboard with bright colors seeping out of it. It stands out in the never-ending concrete. I stop and pick up the soaked cardboard, the mushy material squishing against my hand. I shake out the wet sign far away from my dress. 

    My alarm is telling me I need to go and the downpour is getting heavier, but the sentimental part of me overrides that. There’s smudged writing on the sign. “Homeless,” it says. The sign was obviously drawn by a child. It’s covered in rainbows and crudely drawn animals. Bright colors spot the sign, making it look joyful if only it weren’t for the words on it. 

    At this point, my alarm is basically screaming at me, but my feet won’t move. The sign reminds me too much of the past I tried to leave behind. My childhood was full of pain. I was always jumping from shelter to shelter and given glimpses of hope for them only to be taken away. I wish I could erase the first eighteen years of my life. Nobody should have to go through what I did. But that’s not who I am anymore, I’m Juna Rigerez now, not the hopeless girl I once was. I’ve learned the hard way that nobody can be trusted. 

    I drop the sign quickly like backing away from someone diseased. The memories of my childhood threaten to come crashing down on me. My breathing becomes harder and I try to forget, if only I could. I walk away quickly my high heels clicking louder than before. I just want to forget.