17 year old Hendrix has always loved taking pictures. After her tragic childhood she decided to leave California in hopes to find something worth taking pictures of. She finds what she's looking for in Tulsa when she sees someone who catches her eye...
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I had a lot of personality as a child. I was always wearing yellow and laughing at the world. That was when I liked California. When I loved surfing and the ocean more than anything. The ocean was my best friend. I was six when I got my first camera. It was the greatest present I had ever received. I took pictures of my mom in her blue sweater and my dad in his green and yellow hat. My baby brother always tried to take the camera from me but I never let him touch it. I was eight when it happened. I was in the back seat taking a picture of the lights outside of the window. They shimmered as the cold rain fell softly. I heard my mom scream. I looked over at Tommy, my little brother. He was asleep. I always wonder if he ever even woke up. I did. I woke up in the hospital the next morning. That's when my cousin Lilly explained to me what had happened. She was crying. I guess I'd cry too if I had to tell an eight year old her parents and baby brother were dead. I went home with her. She lived a few towns over and away from the coast. She was nice and I liked her husband all right. I just never felt right there. It didn't feel like home. The ocean felt like home. And every once in a while I would capture the feeling of home in a photo. But never permanently. It always faded away. I longed for a real home. I promised myself I would find it someday. And I never broke promises. Even ones to myself.
