I wake up in my bed breathing loudly, and my body feels clammy. No one inside my parent’s office survived the fire, and because of that almost every night since their death I have been dreaming of the ways they might have died. I wrap a thin blanket around me, it being the only comfort I can find. Today is the day my Uncle Jerry, whom I have never met, will take me to his home to live with him. He lives in Texas, and from what I’ve heard here in Paris, it is “dusty, dirty, old fashioned, etc,” nothing very exciting. I slide off of my bed onto my feet, walking to my closet and pulling out my (new and very small) suitcase. I don’t have much clothing, because I tend to wear the same thing every day; Jeans, flats, and a loose fitting top. I have about seven shirts, two pants, and two shoes, making it easier to pack. As for my personal belongings, I have a bracelet that was my grandma’s, a picture of mom and dad, and my favorite book. I know something is missing, so I tiptoe to my mom and dad’s bedroom, making sure not to wake them up, like I used to do when they were alive. I walk into their room, staring at their bed. I can imagine them in each other’s arms, smiling, but as soon as I blink my eyes, they are gone. I walk over to my mother’s jewelry box to see what was left from our sale of my mom and dad’s belongings. As I lift the embroidered lid, I look inside; nothing. I think I am about to cry because all I want is to touch a piece of her jewelry, which she loved so dearly. But when I slam the lid down in frustration, I hear what sounds like the chains from her necklaces rubbing together. I shake the box ever so lightly, and hear it again. I open the lid once more and remember what was special about this box. My mother’s jewelry box had two compartments all lined with black velvet. The first compartment was what I had seen on the top, but I saw a small ribbon, and upon my pulling, the floor of the first compartment came up, and to my delight I found my mother’s favorite necklaces, including her birthstone, the emerald. I tuck the jewelry box into my suitcase, zip my bag up, and stand it up against the wall. I have never been traveling, so this is my first real journey.
I take my last rounds around the house, remembering my favorite couches, rugs, and pillows. They have all been sold. Then, I hear the doorbell, a soft ring, as it echoes through the rooms of my house. I grab my bag, and roll it towards the door. As I am behind the door, about to open it, I think to myself how different my life will be. I wish my mom and dad could come back home just for an hour at least, all I need was a single goodbye. Hearing another ring, I realize I have been standing there for a bit. I open the door, a few centimeters, and instead of a fire blowing through the door, like it had to Jack, a man appears. He is tall, and strong looking. He is also wearing a straw hat, a plaid shirt, and jeans. I wonder if everyone in the south wore these types of clothing, and if I would have to wear it.
“Well… Are you comin’ or aren’t ya?”
I don’t recognize his accent, but it seems to have a certain rasp to it.
“Sorry,” I say as I pick up my bag and carry it down the steps to the taxi waiting. Once he has shut the trunk and we are both inside, he asks, “What’s your name?”
“Melody.”
I think to myself, if he is my family, why doesn’t he know my name.
“Why don’t you know my name? If you’re my uncle shouldn’t you know?”
He replies to me in a voice with disappointment, but still with force behind it.
“Your ma’ and pa’ wouldn’t let me see you when you was a child”
“Why not?”
“Well, your ma’ was my sis’, and we didn’t get along too well, so when you was born, she forbidded me to meet ya” He explains.
After this, I wonder what he had done to anger my mom to that level. I also think to myself why am I being sent with my uncle that my mom doesn’t approve of? I hope he doesn’t anger me, and that he will treat me well.

Once at the airport, we rush to our gate and board. The ride starts in Paris, full of streetlights, lights from windows, bustling people, and people dressed in sophisticated clothing like suits and cocktail dresses. I drift off to sleep because of the hum of the engine. I open my eyes, and look out the window to see sand dunes everywhere! I see mountains of sand and dry dusty valleys. I turn to Uncle Jerry; seeing that he is peacefully asleep, I nudge him awake with concern. He sits up startled, cursing under his breath, words I’ve never heard before.
“What do you want girl?”
“Where are we?” I ask looking out the window.
“We are home.”
“Home?” I say truly frightened
“This is where we will live.”
“We are going to live on a mountain of sand!”
“No, girl. The city is behind the sand, though there still is sand and dirt in town. Can you go get me some water? Its in the room down the aisle”
I excuse myself from the row I’m in, and walk to the room. As I enter, I am delighted to see a pitcher of water on the counter, and cups beside it. Simple enough I think to myself. As I pick up the pitcher and begin to pour it into one of the cups, the plane jerks and I hear a beep. The bump causes me to pour the excess water on myself! My god! I think to myself. I am bending down to pick up the napkins, also on the floor, when I hear a kind, soft, voice of a boy my age.
“Here you go” He says smiling as he picks up the pitcher and cup.
“Thanks.” I finish picking up the last napkin, with his help.
“My name’s Samson, you can call me Sam.” I now recognize he had a similar accent to my Uncle.
“I’m Melody…I don’t have any nicknames.” I say, with embarrassment. He sees my embarrassment and asks, “Can I call you Mel?” I am so delighted; I had never been called anything but Melody. I am about to ask where he lives, why he’s flying, and so much more, but Jerry calls to me in a harsh and angry voice, “How’s that water comin’? Eh?” I quickly fill the cup and say goodbye to Sam.
“I’m coming!” I reply

With a soft landing, we leave the plane, the gate, the terminal, and get into yet another taxi. As we drive off towards his house, I can’t help but to wonder if I might ever see Sam again. He seemed so genuine and kind, he had something not one of the 100 boys in my old school had. I drift off asleep, like on the plane, and awake to the sound of a car door being slammed. I rub my eyes and get out of the taxi onto the road. It is quite late, and no lights are on, so I look up. The sky is filled with radiant shining stars. In Paris, there were so many streetlights that barely any stars were visible, but now, the stars look as though they have just been born.

Uncle Jerry tugs my arm, obviously in a rush to get inside. As I follow his black cowboy boots, the only thing I can see, we arrive to a small set of steps I assume to be the steps to his porch. But, no, we walk behind the stairs into what seems to be a small shack, which I find is his home. He drops my arm and tells me in a hushed voice, “ Be quiet right now, and just find a place to sleep. There are others here, so be mindful.” As he walks away from me, I begin to fret. It is pitch black and all I can see now are my own two feet. I get on my hands and knees, and crawl around the room, looking for a couch, rug, or anything soft. As I search around, I do find a couch. I crawl around to the front of the couch and stand up. As I reach my hand towards the couch to help lower me down, I feel the skin of a person! I jump back in surprise with a silent gasp. I remember Jerry saying that I am not the only one here, but I didn’t know that meant it is going to be a “full house!” I begin the process again, this time finding a corner of the room with a rug and blanket. I put my hand out towards the wall to make sure that another person is not there already, and lucky for me, there isn’t. I sit on the rug with my back against the wall and wrap the blanket around me. I sit for a while, but then suddenly fall into a deep sleep.