I was just 9 months old when my parents set me down in my crib one night and never picked me up again. For three days, I lay there screaming, crying, aching for somebody. One night, the dark shadow of a man stood over the crib. He was a stranger to me.
"Oh, Baby J, It's just us now," The man said as he placed me in his arms.
With my head on his chest, I heard the thumping of his heartbeat. It was new but strangely familiar. He sat down in the wooden chair. The one that Mama used to rock me in. The room was dark except for the dim yellow glow of the lamp above the chair. Wrapped in my father's old flannel shirt, he carried me out of that house for the last time.
My name is Jesse Lee, and this is my story.
YOU ARE READING
Little Soldier
ActionJesse Lee was only 9 months old when she went into the care of her grandfather. From an early age she was shown that the world wasn't kind. Her grandfather was a fighter and taught her to protect what was hers. This is her story.
