by Micki H

Created on: April 17, 2009   Last Updated: May 21, 2011

I will never forget the day I left Sin City. The lights the glamour, the temptations. Las Vegas had it all. And myself being only twelve, this city appeared to be full of magic. If only I truly understood as I do today perhaps I could have done more, Perhaps I could have saved someone, reached out a hand, anything other than float away.

It was an painfully hot day, even for the desert city. The humidity isn't often one feels in the atmosphere we had adapted to. The air was sticky and clung to your lungs as you breathed in the heavy air. I had almost forgotten how I came to be here. Taken in by an aunt because my father had left on another overseas church retreat. It seems these days father was always gone. But life in Vegas was good. I had adjusted well to school and actually had made a couple of friends. We were hanging out at the local soda pop shop when my aunt came bursting through the doors. A panic in her eyes that I have never seen before. Grabbing me at the shoulder, her fingernails nearly dug into my skinned as she quickly pulled me from my chair. With hysteria in her eyes, she instructed me to get into the car as fast as possible. As I walking to the door I turned around to look at my aunt wondering what was going on as she ordered the kids to get home to their family and it did not understand when she exclaimed the time has come.

Quickly she got into the car, I looked at my friends as they looked back at me through the shop windows with the look of confusion. I wanted to ask her. I wanted to know if father was okay. I knew my family and if anyone was in a panic,they all were.

"I got a call from your father" she answered as if she was reading my thoughts.
"I have to make sure you are safe, bringing you here was a terrible idea, simply terrible." she explained as she reached out for my hand.

I sat there shaking, I had heard this before. I had heard this before hurricane took out my home in New Orleans. And once before that I remember my own father expressing the same concerns after taking me on a missionary camp in Africa. Something was going to happen. Something bad was going to happen. We were heading out of town. To somewhere I had never been. The sense of impending doom was beginning to fill my thoughts. I knew these feelings well.

Soon I could not breath and the sweat was rolling in beads off of my forehead.I needed to get out of that car. I needed to look back. I needed to know.

"STOP!' I screamed.

It startled my aunt so that she hit the brakes

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