The Stars Shine So Brightly

Chapter One:

Child Services arrived immediately after the ambulance. Who had told them I was fifteen?

"Are you Pema?" A woman asked. She smiled tentatively at me.

I nodded.

"Come with me, sweetheart." The woman said. Her tone was intentionally soothing, as if she practiced it.

I followed her obediently, like a dog, towards the car she had arrived in. It was black and dust-covered, and undoubtedly old.

"Climb in, hon." The woman said, her tone still soothing.

I climbed into the back seat of the car. I didn't want to be too close to this woman, she was almost too nice.

"Well," She said once I was seated, "I'm Nancy."

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

Nancy scrunched up her nose, and sighed as she started the car.

"Pema, we're heading to the California Child Services Care Center, which is in town." Nancy said quietly.

"I need to see my dad! I don't need to go to a dumb care center!" I cried.

Nancy swallowed uncomfortably. "Pema, I don't know how to tell you this, but... your father is dead."

I started to shake. "No, he's not! He's just hurt, right? He'll be fine!"

Nancy cut the car's engine and turned to look at me. "Pema, he shot himself in the brain. Your father is dead. Do you understand now?"

I winced at her sharp words. My father can't be dead! He was telling me to stop smoking just a few minutes ago! He can't... no.

But he was dead.

Nancy started the car again. She didn't say anything else.

*

Nancy had practically thrown me into a room once we arrived at the care center. She hated me, that was clear. And it was my fault.

I examined the room, and, to my relief, it was empty except for a bunkbed. I had enough to deal with as it was, without a noisy roommate to bother me.

I finally let the tears I had been holding back flow. They dripped down my face and fell on my ancient sweater. I was angry at myself for crying- I'm no weakling- but I didn't stop.

I cried silently for at least an hour before the door clicked open.

Someone stood in the door way, a woman I hadn't seen before.

"Emma, telephone!" She shrieked.

I didn't even bother to tell her my name was Pema, not Emma. I was too happy someone had called.

The woman led me to to a mostly empty office. There was a phone on the table, and it appeared to be on.

"Talk to them," the woman said. And then she walked away.

I picked up the phone.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Pema?!" The voice on the other end of the line asked.

"Yes, this is Pema." I said quietly.

The person sighed with relief.

"Oh thank God you're okay."

"Um... who is this?" I asked.

The person, who was undoubtedly a man, chuckled.

"It's me, your Uncle Billy. And we're coming to get you." The man said.