“No! Please don’t burn that!” I screamed while my father threw my grandmother’s handmade quilt into a flaming barrel behind our house.

Go to Delano’s house down the street.”

I look toward the window, then back at my mother’s tear-streaked face.

If I stay, I know this house will eventually destroy me.

If I leave, I’ll have nothing except the clothes on my back.

I almost stayed.

I almost marched downstairs to confront my father one final time and refuse to leave my mother behind.

But deep continue reading …