The memories walk these halls like mute ghosts, reminding me of everything that's gone wrong. That choked the life out of my spirit. That made me wish I was dead. I see Him. I see Tanya, who used to be my best friend. I see Ma and Daddy, as they are in my photograph. Why are they smiling when I am in so much pain? Her green eyes sparkle like emeralds. He grins like a Cheshire cat. They seem to know something I don’t. Does my distress amuse them? “Pull it together, Jessa,” I whisper. “They aren’t real.” I click my heels and pray to wake up, but I’m still here. This isn’t a nightmare, a cruel trick played on me by my subconscious. This is real life. I shake my head in a vain attempt to dispel the images. When I open my eyes, I see Tanya walking towards me. With an outstretched hand, she seems to be saying, “Follow me. We have something to show you.” Against my better judgment, I take her pale hand in mine. She is as cold as ice. She leads me down the hallway with Ma and Daddy and Him trailing after us, respectively. We stop halfway down the corridor. There are four plate glass doors. From right to left, they are trimmed in dark  green, maroon, violet, and light blue. We stop in front of the green door. Tanya drops my hand and turns to me. Her lips don’t move, but she speaks to me, almost telepathically. “You have four choices, Jessa. Behind each of these doors are the parts of your past that have shaped you, and your potential future, as directly affected by your past. I trust that you will choose wisely.” A flash of light erupts from the green door, and Tanya is gone.

Ma and Daddy are standing on either side of me. Through the clear glass, I see a small brick building, weathered with age. A plaque next to the dark green door says ‘Clarke Orphanage, Est. 1952’. A couple walks up to the door, carrying a pink bundle. When I see their faces, I gasp involuntarily. It’s my parents. I grew up in Clarke. This must be when they gave me up. They look more worn than they do in my photograph. Ma is so young, yet she has creases in her skin. Her honey blonde hair is tied in a messy bun, and her eyes are red. She’s been crying. Daddy has his arm around her shoulder. He’s young, like Ma, but looks much more mature.  He has skin like chocolate, and eyes so dark they’re almost black. He’s at least a head taller than Ma. Taking a deep breath, she sets the bundle down on the step. She sets a square piece of paper next to it. I sneak closer to the paper, to catch a closer look. It’s a polaroid, the one I’ve kept with me my entire life. It pictures Ma, on a hospital bed, holding a baby. It must be me. She’s practically glowing. Daddy is next to her, with his Cheshire cat grin stretching across his face. On the back in purple ink it says,

‘Francesca, Noah, and Jessa Lyn Warren. December ’98.’Daddy gave Ma’s hand a tight squeeze. She nodded at him, and knocked on the door. Then they ran off into the night. The scene faded to black.

A new scene took its place. A woman in her late 20’s sits on a sofa, with five multiethnic kids playing on the floor. The woman has blonde hair, olive skin, bright green eyes, and a scar just above her eyebrow. It’s me. A doorbell rings in the distance, and I  jump up. About 30 seconds later, future me leads a Chinese couple into the room. “Hello,” I say to them. I’m Jessa Warren, head of Clarke Orphanage.” Holy s***. I’m running Clarke. I motion to a Latina girl about 10 years old to come over to meet the couple. ‘Lena, this is Mr. and Mrs. Chang, the couple who wants to adopt you.” “Please, call us Sophy and James,” the Asian woman says with a smile. Lena peeks out from behind me. “I’m Lena. I’m ten,” She says with a gap-toothed grin. “Come on, I’ll get you a room where you can get to know each other,” I say, leading Lena and the Changs towards the door.

 The scene fades to black. Tanya has reclaimed her spot on my left. She takes my hand and leads me to the maroon door. She shoots a morose gaze. “I’m so sorry, Jessa” A flash of light, and she’s gone again. This scene is very different. It’s dark, in a basement. I’ve been here before. This is my basement, in my current foster home. There are three people sitting on a couch, with a television playing the Jaws theme…No. November 9^th.  The day He…No. No…NO! I can’t relive this. But I have no other choice. There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to breathe…In this scene, I’m sitting on the left side of a couch covered in cracked maroon leather. Tanya is in the middle, and He is on the right, with his arm around Tanya. Past Jessa looks so uncomfortable. He and Tanya are whispering and giggling; all three of us are drinking beers. He’s a lot drunker than Tanya and me. “Hey babe, what’s the time?” She asks. He  checks his cell and replies, “9:50.” Tanya jumps up. She kisses Him on the cheek and says, “Bye Jessa! See you tomorrow!” And runs up the stairs. We sit in silence. I try to focus on the movie, instead of his piercing eyes, scanning my body. He does that stupid cliché thing they do in the movies where the boy pretends to yawn as an excuse to put his arm around the girl. Past Jessa shoves his arm off. “Jason, don’t,” She says. He slinks closer to her. “Jessa. I see the way you look at me. Tanya’s not here. There’s nothing to be scared of. I want you. Don’t you want me too?” He says, his hand sliding up her thigh. Past Jessa jumps up. “Jason, you’re drunk.” He grabs her hand and pulls her down. I remember it clearly. The smell of alcohol on his breath. His eyes hungry and menacing. “C’mon, Jessa. Don’t you want me to touch you a little? I can see it in your eyes.” “Jason, let me go!” Past Jessa screams. He flips her over and covers her mouth. Climbing on top of her, he starts to unbutton her shirt. Suddenly, the door slams open. Tanya is standing at the top of the stairs.  “I…I forgot my purse,” She says. It sounds almost like a question. Tanya sprints away. “Baby, wait!” He yells, zipping up his fly and running after her. Past Jessa curls up in a ball, mascara and tears running down her face in rivers. She cries until she falls into a fitful sleep, dreaming of what’s yet to come, dreaming of hell on earth.

 I don’t realize I’m crying until the salty tears hit my lips. He stands next me. I take a shaky breath. It’s time to deal once and for all. I muster up all the courage and strength I have, and do the bravest thing I’ve ever done: I speak. “I hate you for making me into this. I hate you for turning me into a scared, weak little girl. But I’m done being that girl. You put me through so much pain. I hope you realize that. But I forgive you. I forgive you Jason, and it’s time for me to put the past behind me. It’s time for you to go.” Jason looks at me a moment. “I’m sorry,” he says. “That’s bullshit,” I reply. And Jason is gone. Tanya is back, and she starts to lead me towards the violet door. Wait, I think. What about this future? Tanya seems to have heard my thoughts. “In that scenario, there is no future. You die. Slit your wrists. You couldn’t take it anymore.” She says this like it’s nothing.  Dead? How could I be dead? I can’t imagine myself, cold and pale like Tanya, slowly rotting away until I’m nothing but starch white bone. “Jessa,” She says, yanking me out of my thoughts. “We don’t have all day! C’mon!” She pulls me in front of the violet door, and there is another flash of light.

In this scene, I’m sitting on a table in a doctors office, wearing one of those god awful gowns, kicking my legs back and forth. This memory is from last week. A nurse comes in. I remember her, the nice lady who gave me my sonogram. “Good morning, Jessa,” She says. “Good morning Violet! How’s the baby?” “She’s doing just fine. Do you want to see the ultrasound?” “I would love to,” I say with a smile. I never get tired of watching her, my beautiful baby girl. “Do you have a name?” Violet asks. I think a moment. “I think…Maia Rose.” Violet smiles. “That’s beautiful. Maia Rose Warren. I love it.” Violet grasps my hand, and the scene fades, and is replaced by Future Jessa, holding baby Maia Rose in her arms. Violet is right beside her. I am crying, but they are happy tears. “Do you want to hold her?” I ask Violet. “I would love to.” As Violet rocks Maia back and forth, she hums a melody. It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is. For the first time, I look happy.

I am jolted out of the blissful serenity, the calm I feel thinking of life with Maia Rose, my beautiful baby. Tanya is by my side, dragging me to the final door, the bright blue one. Once more, the light erupts from the door, but this time, it’s different. The light stays, shimmering. I turn to Tanya. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Where’s my past?” “Tanya smiles. “This your future,” She says. “You can make your own destiny.” I have four choices. I can run Clarke. Help children like me. Or I can end the pain, make the hurt stop, make it all go away. Maybe I could have a beautiful baby girl, something to give my life meaning. Or I can choose uncertainty, make my own choices, find my own path. I look at Tanya, and a single tear runs down my cheek. She hugs me tight. She’s no longer cold. “Shhh,” She whispers. “No more tears.” “Tanya.” “Yes?” I take a deep breath. “Can you come with me?” “She smiles. “I would love to.” I take her hand in mine, and without a second glance, we step into the light.