The hills roll off the landscape of the wooden deck

that wraps around the house like a soft blanket in the middle of the night.

Inside the large wooden home of my grandmother’s

My small family has gathered for a make shift celebration.

Mother in her white dress, the pink flower frill on her arms,

Father in his cheap suit jacket and pants, no need for a tie

And me, playing on the floor in my little light pink dress and shoes.

I watch from my perch in the future

As they cut the cake, twist their arms and go to feed each other

Mother smearing some across father’s teenage mustache

If only I could stop them

Tell them what a mistake it was for them to have signed those papers

Pleaded, please… please!

Go back, undo it

Don’t do this to yourself

DON’T DO THIS TO ME!

Desperation turns to outrage

I scream for them to stop

But the aunts and grandparents only go on with the laughter

Someone hands past me a small bit of cake

And I eat it

Completely unaware of my life to be

Blissful in my young ignorance