When my life changed I was watching the rain. I can say this about many times in my life.  For me, rain is a warning that something is coming, that something will change everything.

     The night I was found on the side of the road, there had been a big storm.  The day one of the foster girls went missing;  The day my foster mother told me she was sick;  The day I dropped out of high school;  The day my partner broke up with me;  The day Rebecca died;  The day we foster girls were separated;  The day I started sleeping on a sidewalk.

     When my life gets hard it rains, and every time it rains I wonder what new thing will devastate me.  I know rain isn't something to be feared.  But for me, when I see those dark gray clouds coming it's like a whirlwind of butterflies in my stomach, and all I can do is wait. 

 

I was soaked from head to toe, and the rain wouldn't stop anytime soon. All I could do was close my eyes and wait for it to pass.  Sitting at my usual spot, I listened to the drips and drops of water muffle the sound of the city around me.  As hours passed the rain finally slowed down.  Seeing the sunrise was like a calm wave hitting me.  Even though I was cold and wet, just seeing the sun made me feel warmer inside and out. 

     As that morning began, people passed me on the street and pretended I wasn't there. Some would glance, but the moment I would look at them they would turn their heads and keep walking.  I had grown used to it over the years.  My whole being was just a surviving trace of some life to them, just a remnant of something unknown and unwanted.  

     There was a big umbrella across the street from me, and I wished that I had one.  But then I noticed, under the umbrella, someone was looking at me.  That never happened, no one ever really looked at me.  But there she was, unwavering, looking at me.  As she crossed the street and walked towards me, I panicked.  I wasn't sure what to do.  Was she coming to talk to me?  Did she just need to take this path to get to wherever she was going?  Do I look, or do I not look at her?  But I couldn't look away from her.  She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  The sun made her long blonde, almost yellow hair, shine like gold.  As she approached me and smiled, I couldn't help but wonder when the last time I had smiled like that was.  

     “Do you like stories?” she asked me curiously.

     Maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because my throat was so dry from thirst, but for some reason, I couldn't get myself to speak.  Of course, I liked stories.  Reading books is one of my favorite things to do.  I've spent half my life at the library.  

     While growing up at Candice’s Pure and Innocent Foster Care for Girls, I was always the one who read to the younger kids.  Reading in funny voices to the girls is one of my fondest memories with them.  That, and the time we all snuck up to the roof to watch fireworks.   Even though I ended up stepping on a piece of glass and scared the crap out of Sophie, Taylor, and Marie with all my screaming and blood, It was still a great day.  Rebecca probably remembered it as the day she locked the door to the roof and threw away the key.  She was always telling us not to go up there.  Thanks to the giant scar on my foot, I’ll never forget that day.  

     As I nodded to the woman's question, she grabbed a book from her side bag and handed it to me.  “Here, keep it,” she said softly.  I looked into her eyes and found that I couldn't stop looking at them.  They were so familiar.  Even her hair seemed familiar to me, but I couldn't figure out why. 

     I took the book from her hands and held it to my chest.  She looked at me with the sweetest smile. “I hope you like it.  Be careful though, once you open it you won’t be able to put it down,” she said with a little giggle.  

All I could do was stare at this beautiful woman with no words, and watch as she walked away.  Nothing came out of my mouth as I tried to say thank you.  And before I knew it, she was gone, and the rain had stopped.  

 

There was no name on the book, just a blank cover with flower engravings.  It was a very old-looking book made of leather and worn-out paper.  I held the book close and opened it carefully.  The first page had the name "Lillian Pureheart" on it.  Wasn't sure if it was the name of the book or the author.  I turned to the next page, but it was blank.  The next page after that was blank too.  As I  flipped through the book my heart sank.  All the pages were empty.

     I should have known.  Why would some stranger give me a book?  She was just pulling a prank on me.  Why would anyone do that?  Why do people have to be so cruel to others?

     It had started to rain again.  At least that's what I thought, but it was just my tears hitting the empty pages.  I flipped back to the first page and looked at the name again.  Frustration and disappointment weren't how I wanted to start the day, but it could have been worse.  I slammed the book shut so hard that I could feel the impact go up my arms. 

     The moment the book closed, everything went silent.  When I looked up I wasn't sitting on the sidewalk of the busy city anymore.  I was sitting in a field of white flowers by a beautiful clear lake, in complete silence.  

     Dropping the book from my hands, I jumped to my feet turning in circles. What happened?  Where was I? It had just been cold and wet, and now, warm and bright. The buildings were gone. The streets and cars were gone. The people, they were all gone.

     The sky was full of fluffy white clouds and a bright sun behind them.  A sudden breeze touched my back blowing my hair forward.  At the corner of my eye, there was purple.  My hair, my hair was positively purple and much longer.  I ran to the lake to see my reflection, and what I saw was a stranger.  It wasn't even me.  My short and messy brown hair was gone, and replaced by long purple locks.  Even my dark brown eyes had changed to purple. 

     I closed my eyes tightly, shaking my head, hoping that would wake me from this weird dream.  But nothing changed.  I was still in a field of flowers with purple hair. 

     I saw the book lying open on the ground and picked it up.  On the first page, it said, "Lillian Pureheart sat by a lake in a field of flowers." I quickly slammed the book shut and then opened it again.  I did that a few times.  The words were not going anywhere.  

     It felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my body.  I had no clue what was going on.  I held the book as I knelt to the ground.  Closing my eyes, I tried to calm myself.  I needed to think, there had to have been a logical explanation to what was going on.  I rested my head on the grass, clutching the book tightly to my chest, telling myself it was just a dream and that I must have fallen asleep.  

     But then I had a thought.  Maybe I wasn't asleep at all.  Maybe I died, and this was heaven.  It had been a while since I last ate something.  I should have been hungry, but I wasn't.  I wasn't even thirsty anymore.  At that moment I heard a noise, a thumping sound.  It was my heart.  My heart was still beating, I couldn't have been dead. 

     I got up off the ground and took a deep breath.  The smell of flowers and the warmth of the air filled my lungs.  I was definitely alive.