by Dossie M Terrell

Created on: December 09, 2010

At long last, she felt free of the restraints of forced friendships, constant testing and stuffy academia.  Finally, she felt ready to prove her mettle in the “real world.”  It seemed this day would never come, but it had and she felt free. Several festivities were planned, but she held the pinnacle of her success in her hand. Even the weather was cooperating. She could not remember when she had seen a clearer or sunnier day in New Haven.

Cameras were clicking away all around her as hordes of families and friends clustered together, making memories to last a lifetime. So far she had escaped the entourage that had travelled to Yale to help celebrate her crowning success.

“Sabrina, Sabrina.” She turned to see her beloved father walking swiftly toward her. She smiled brightly as she took in his “I can’t wait to tell you” smile he wore. She knew from experience he was literally bursting to divulge some long-held secret.

“What is it dad?” she queried.

“Come with me,” he said taking her by the hand and practically dragging her behind him. The obligatory photo fest, she thought silently, but she did not mind it not even her meddlesome Aunt Matilda. When she was nine the old witch had predicted she would never amount to much. It had hurt so much to hear such a pronouncement about her life that she had spent the next fourteen years proving to everyone she was somebody. She had left the love of her life in their small town because she refused to prove her aunt correct. It had cost her dearly, but it was now all behind her. She was ready to set the world on fire.  Within three weeks she would take the Bar and the rest would be history. Nothing could spoil her joy. She was so wrapped up in thought that she failed to notice where her father was taking her. 

“Where are we going?”

“We are almost there,” he said giddily.

Sabrina eyed him curiously. How was he able to navigate so capably around the sprawling campus? They walked along Wall Street chatting easily about some of the events that happened earlier. Suddenly, he steered her toward parking lot 51, Hendrie Hall, on Temple Street.

“Are we driving someplace father? What about mom, Tommy and Aunt Matilda?”

His chatter ceased, but his stride increased as they walked through the lot.

She heard them before she saw them. Her aunt, forever self-important, complained childishly. “What time are they getting

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