At 18 My Dad Told Me to Leave and Gave My Room to My Sister

The metal is cold or warm depending on the season. And either way it brings me straight back to the girl in the Walmart lot, to the hoodie draped across her legs, to the frost on the windshield and the silence on her phone and the twenty-six degrees that almost took her.

She was eighteen. She was terrified. She was completely, totally alone. She deserved continue reading …