Kenya hid in the corner, the noise from the camp startling her again. She had spent all night crying and trying to plot her escape. She didn’t know what to do or how to run. The ugly men were everywhere with their guns, raping and killing all the women and young girls. She was lucky that the leader who bought her went on another raid the day before. She knew he was coming back today and he planned on marrying her. Just the thought of the monster touching her made her empty her stomach.

“Kenya! Kenya where are you?” someone asked in Swahili.

Why did that voice sound so familiar? She didn’t want to risk revealing her hiding place and coming face to face with one of the soldiers.

“Kenya, I know you’re it here. It’s me, Agabe. I won’t hurt you, I want to help you get out of here but you need to go now.”

Agabe!

Kenya wiped her mouth as she slowly crawled out of her hiding place and came face to face with her cousin.

“What are you doing here Agabe? They could kill you!” Kenya exclaimed.

“I’m part of the militia; it’s the only way I can survive. My parents and my brothers are dead. I will stay with them until I can get away. I need to get you out of here. He comes back today. Here, put these on.”

He threw a pair of shoes at her. She looked at him, surprise in her eyes. She quickly put the shoes on her chaffed feet, thankful for the simple items.

“Take this too. It has some food, socks, and a change of clothes. There is a missionary group two days from here. Find them and tell them what has happened here. They will help you get into the United States and away from this nightmare,” Agabe said throwing the small bag at her.

“Only travel at night Kenya and sleep during the day. There are some small caves along the way to the missionary group, make sure you use those. They will keep you safe,” Agabe continued as he walked her away from the camp without attracting suspicion.

Kenya nodded, intently listening to what he was saying. Several minutes later, Agabe stopped.

“This is as far as I go, Kenya. Be careful,” Agabe said.

Kenya nodded and quickly tightly hugged him. She had tears in her eyes as she walked away from the only family she had left.

Kenya woke up gasping for air and drenched in sweat.

Shit.  The dreams were back. She had stopped seeing her psychologist thinking that she was cured but apparently not. 

Instead of dwelling on her memories, she prepared for school. She couldn’t afford to dwell on the past when the present was stressful enough.  After showering and eating a meager breakfast, Kenya started her daily walk to school.

Her dream consumed her thoughts as she walked the halls of her school. What did it even mean? She had gone months without a single episode and BAM, her many issues hit her out of nowhere. Would she ever be normal? God, she hoped so. Despite her lonely existence she didn’t want to be alone forever. She wanted a family someday, laughing children and a husband she could feel safe with. Too bad she had hundreds of problems to work through before she got to that point.
Man, she was pathetic.

A husband? What kind of guy would ever be interested in her? She had baggage bigger than the empire state building.

“Hi, Kenya!”

Kenya was jerked out of her thoughts by the familiar chipper voice.

“Hey, Page,” she answered, trying not to jump out of her skin.

Why was Page standing so close? Whatever happened to personal space? For the past three weeks it was the same routine. Page would scare the shit out of her and Kenya would try her best to get out of the conversation without cussing her out.

“Are you heading to class?”

Well, duh! Kenya thought. Where else would she be going?

“Yeah,” she replied awkwardly. She didn’t do small talk.

“You mind if I walk with you?”

Kenya shook her head, no. She did mind though.  She liked her alone time, no matter what she was doing. She headed towards her political science class without another word to Page.

“Were you able to get the assignment done?”

Didn’t the chick get the hint? Kenya nodded again.

“Me too! It was a great assignment and I hope I get to present our debate today!” Page said excitedly.

Good grief! Who got excited about a debate? Her life wasn’t exactly an amusement park, but the girl needed to get a grip. She acted like they were bosom buddies just because she showed her some kindness. Next time, she was minding her own business.

Kenya kept walking and Page kept talking. When they walked into class, Kenya headed for her normal seat at the back of the classroom and fought not to groan when Page took the seat next to her. She looked up from her books as more of the class filed in and made the mistake of locking eyes with Tristan Kelly.  It was the same ritual with them every day and he always stared with that ridiculously beautiful smile of his, until she broke eye contact. He wasn’t shy about his perusals either. She could always feel his eyes on her throughout the class period. What did he want?

He was hot though, she couldn’t deny that. He was a jock and a rich kid, a deadly and moronic combination in her opinion. Maybe she was judging him too harshly, taking her frustration with stupid rich kids out on him. It wasn’t like they were going to become best friends so it didn’t matter what she thought of him.

“First pair up please,” Mr. Simmons announced.

She must have been day dreaming hardcore if she completely missed most of what Mr. Simmons talked about. Her presentation wasn’t till the following day so all she had to do was sit back and watch the ignorance unfold.

“The debate will be on illegal immigration. Emily, you’re arguing against illegal immigration and Matt, you’re arguing for. Matt, you’re first. After you two are done, we’ll get comments from the rest of the class.”

“Ahem…ok. Well, Mexicans should be allowed to stay in the US cause this is a great country and they just want to make money like the rest of us. We shouldn’t discriminate against them just cause they weren’t born here.”

Kenya couldn’t believe it. That was it? That was his argument? She hoped Mr. Simmons gave him a failing grade because that was stupid. She couldn’t wait to hear what Emily and her two brain cells had to say.

“My turn? Ok. I think illegal immigrants should be sent back to where they came from. They’re taking all of our jobs and killing our economy. They also contribute to rising crime and pollution. I mean, they don’t even pay taxes like the rest of us so why should they get special treatment. We should get rid of them and get our country back.”

Was she for real? Kenya kept rolling her eyes as Emily continued to make dumb statements without and evidence. If this was a debate class, the girl would fail miserably. It was funny how the two of them only mentioned Mexicans as potential illegal immigrants. Immigrants came from all over the world, both legal and illegal.

“Alright, class, any comments for Matt?” Mr. Simmons asked.

Since the class was made up of mostly football players and cheerleaders, everyone clapped for Matt, giving him further encouragement.

“Settle down.  Anything for Emily?”

Kenya softly snorted.

“Do you have a comment, Kenya?” Mr. Simmons asked, putting her on the spot.

Fuck! She must have snorted too loud.

“I think her entire argument was full of bs,” Kenya said matter of factly.

“What?!” Emily said with indignation.

“Your argument was crap. You provided no evidence for your claims. Most of your points sounded like opinions instead of facts. Saying things like “they’re taking our jobs”, “they should be sent back to where they’re from”, and “let’s get our country back” make you sound bigoted and ignorant. Just saying,” Kenya said.

The glare from Emily could have melted a glacier but she didn’t care. Someone needed to tell the spoiled princess the truth. The rest of the class snickered as Emily sat down in embarrassment.

When the bell rang, Kenya was out the door before Page could draw her into another conversation. Most of her homework was already finished, thankful that she didn’t have much to carry on her way to the bus stop.

“Hey, Kenya wait up!”

What the hell? Out of curiosity, Kenya stopped and turned, coming face to face with all the maleness that was Tristan Kelly.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Tristan asked, a cute blush briefly coloring his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Kenya asked, her voice a little sharper then she intended it to be.

“I’m Tristan Kelly, from political science,” Tristan said.

“Can I help you?” Kenya knew she was being an ass but it was either that or drool over him. The guy was very potent up close, his green eyes not missing a thing. She resisted the urge to run her eyes over the rest of him.

“I was actually coming over to offer you a ride home. I’ve seen you walking or taking the bus and thought I’d offer you a ride. My car is over there,” Tristan said pointing to a black car a few feet away from them.

Kenya’s mouth almost fell open. Why in the hell was a teenager driving a car worth over a hundred grand?  Rich people really annoyed her. The things she could do with that money were endless.

“I…appreciate the offer but I don’t know you. I’m perfectly fine taking the bus home. Have a nice day,” Kenya said and walked away without allowing him to respond.

“That went well,” Tristan muttered to himself, rubbing the back of his head. He stood there for a few moments, watching her hips move smoothly as she walked.

Sighing, he got in his car and drove away, his mind still on the beautiful, intriguing girl standing at the bus stop.  He’d been trying to get her to notice him since he first set eyes on her. She didn’t seem like the type of person that sugar coated anything but from what he noticed, she was a loner. The only person she talked to was Page, which didn’t help her popularity much. Physically, he liked everything about her. Her skin was an amazing dark brown, her lips were nice and full, her shoulder length brown hair looked soft to the touch, and she had amazing curves.

He liked her but he could tell that breaking through her “don’t fuck with me” demeanor was going to be hell. He always did love a challenge.

Parking his car, Tristan walked into the house.

“Mom, are you home?” he shouted into the living room. When she didn’t get a response, he headed upstairs to his room.

“Tom, you can’t be serious! You just got home. We hardly get to see you anymore.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do Gina. I have to work so I can provide for you and Tristan! You won’t be able to stay in your little clubs, keep your pretty little jewels, and sit on your ass all day if I don’t work!”

Great, Tristan thought. His parents were at each other’s throats again.

“How dare you talk to me like that? I take care of your home and your child! You’re here for barely a day before you leave for weeks…again! What am I supposed to think?”

Tristan went in his room but kept the door open so he could listen to his parent’s argument. They really needed to find a different topic to scream at one another about.

“Frankly, I don’t care what you think! I’m going to finish packing and get the hell out of here before you make my ears bleed.”

Changing into running shorts, a shirt, and running shoes, Tristan left the house. He hated when his parents fought, which they did a lot. His relationship with his dad was civil at best but he loved his mom and hated seeing her cry. Tristan kept replaying their argument in his head as he ran around the neighborhood. To everyone on the outside they had the perfect family; he had a feeling it was all about to fall apart.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Kenya dragged her weary body through her front door, dropping her keys and book bag by the front door. The work load seemed never ending today, mainly because so many people were out sick. The only consolation was that they paid everyone several dollars more so everything was done on time. Heather was still annoying the hell out of her but she had to admit that the woman made everyone feel good, even on a day like today.

 Looking in the refrigerator Kenya frowned. Mustard, lettuce, avocado and water weren’t going to make much of a meal.  She really needed to go shopping before she starved herself. Although she hadn’t eaten since lunch, she wasn’t all that hungry.

A sharp pain shot through her chest as she walked out of her kitchen. What the hell?

Another jolt flowed through her and it was so strong that it brought tears to her eyes. She leaned against the wall and breathed deeply trying to let whatever was happening to her pass. A third jab of pain flowed through her causing her to double over and clutch her chest even harder. Tears and snot streamed down her face as the pain became unbearable. She continued to breathe slowly until the pain started to subside.

 Kenya stayed on her living room floor long after the pain was gone. Fresh tears ran down her face as she came to the realization that the heart problems that had nearly killed her two years prior were back with a vengeance.