Seventeen's Threshold

the beginning .

where it all started ...
July 30 2007 , 7:30 pm
Mr& Mrs Davidson and Rakim

why ? Why am I here ?

Mr and Mrs Davidson go back and forth one night when they came across a crying 1 year old Rakim Davidson who was laying in his single black and teal green crib .

Mr,Davidson had a  an irritated look on his face , at first when Rakim had came onto this earth he had a huge smile on his face until today , he had enough

" at this point I'm fucking tired of that damn baby , why did you have him ? Why did you have him Noelle ? " Noelle the mother of Rakim didn't know what to do .

Noelle and her husband Justin were both 18 when Rakim was born , on their way to college as upcoming freshman and there were days and days they had to take baby Rakim with them which was very hard .

The evening sky was painted with hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. Noelle and Justin Davidson sat silently in their car, parked just outside the gates of the St. Mary's Group Home. The soft hum of the engine was the only sound filling the air, a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions raging inside them.

Noelle clutched the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white from the strain. Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the gravity of what they were about to do. She glanced at the back seat, where their one-year-old son, Rakim, slept peacefully, unaware of the life-changing decision being made for him.

Justin sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt and regret, but also of a determination that had been born out of desperation. They had discussed this moment for months, agonizing over every detail, but now that it was here, it felt surreal.

"Are you sure about this?" Noelle's voice cracked as she broke the silence, tears welling up in her eyes.

Justin turned to her, his expression a mixture of pain and resignation. "We don't have a choice, Noelle. We can barely take care of ourselves, let alone a baby. He deserves better than what we can give him right now."

Their lives had spiraled out of control since Rakim's birth. Financial struggles, constant arguments, and the overwhelming pressure of parenthood had created a rift between them that seemed impossible to bridge. They had tried everything—counseling, second jobs, asking for help from family—but nothing seemed to work.

Noelle took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I know. I just... I wish things were different."

She wiped away a tear and opened the car door. The cool evening air hit her face as she stepped out, and she gently unbuckled Rakim from his car seat. He stirred slightly but remained asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with each breath. Justin joined her, and together they walked up the path to the group home entrance.

The building loomed before them, a symbol of both hope and heartbreak. As they approached the door, they were greeted by a kind-faced woman named Mrs. Thompson, the group home director. Her warm smile offered a small comfort amidst the anguish.

"Good evening," Mrs. Thompson said softly, her eyes shifting to Rakim in Noelle's arms. "You must be the Davidsons. We've been expecting you."

Noelle nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. This is Rakim."

Mrs. Thompson reached out and gently caressed Rakim's cheek. "He's a beautiful boy. We'll take good care of him, I promise."

The weight of her words hit Noelle like a tidal wave, and she struggled to keep her composure. She leaned down and kissed Rakim's forehead, her tears falling onto his soft skin.

"I love you, Rakim. Always remember that," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Justin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then handed Mrs. Thompson a small bag containing Rakim's belongings—a few clothes, a beloved stuffed animal, and a letter explaining everything they wished for him in life.