In a small town, in the Northwestern corner of North Carolina, a mother, and her two kids, at the young ages of 3 and 6, sit on the steps of their new apartment. She is anxiously waiting for her newly divorcee to come and carry away the two most important things in her life. When he finally arrives, half an hour late, the father scoops her up, ungracefully. The sweet girl starts throwing a full out tantrum as soon as she leaves the grasp of her mother’s loving arms. It was then that she sadly realized she would be leaving her mother’s nurturing side for the first time in her whole life.

​As the tears, salty as the ocean, begin to stream down the toddler’s face, the older, braver brother gently takes his sister’s hand whispering, just under a hush, Everything’s gonna be alright Anna, shhh, it’s ok Anna, knowing, undoubtfully, that nothing would ever be the same again.

​After the forty minute drive in the rickety, old, green truck the father had owned for years, the children climbed out of their seats, not needing any assistance unbuckling from their nonexistent carseats. They stare at the one story house, noticing the chipping of the paint, hearing the shrill of sirens nearby, not knowing what is to be expected inside. The small children walk into what would be their “home” every other weekend for the next sixteen years.

​The musty smell of the rented home hit them like a brick wall, asking, Dad, what’s that yucky smell?

​Who cares what that smell is. Get used to it because you’s gonna be smellin’ it for the next tewnty-four hours, he said.

​The children timidly walk into the room they would be sharing. Looking about at the paper white walls and the stained carpet, the kids notice there was not a single toy to be spotted. The only items in the room besides a trashcan and the father’s suitcase exploding with clothes that reeked from being unwashed for weeks, were two sleeping bags, messily sprawled out on the floor.

​Ya’ll’s will be sleepin’ there, said the father rudely.

​The little girl murmured, But what am I supposed to snuggle with tonight?

​Your mother should’ve packed you something. What a stupid women. If you really need a  silly little stuffed animal to keep ya company at night than ya’ll better run to the truck so we can go to Walmart.

​ That night, Anna laid down next to her brother, sweating due to the room lacking any kind of air circulation. With a smile on her face, a new Dora the Explorer doll, firmly stuffed, was tucked under her arm as she slipped into her dreams.

​A yawn slowly crept across her face the next morning, as she woke from a deep sleep with a stiff neck. Anna started franticly looking around for her Dora doll. She found it sitting against the wall behind her, where her brother had placed it to prevent it from being smooshed from the intenseness of Anna's cuddles.

​With a squeeze and a sweet kiss on the doll’s cheek, she said, Good morning Dora, I love you.

​Suddenly her father walks in and says, Your mother is comin’ in half an hour and you sure as hell ain’t taken this thing with ya. I spent good money on this here.

​As the Dora doll, that was so dearly loved, was ripped out of the child’s grasp, the welled up tears bursted out and rushed down her sweet innocent little face like a broken dam. Flowing, nonstop, and the one thing she needed was in her new enemies’ hand. For some strange reason he just couldn’t quite see what he was doing to his daughter. This would be one of many, many heartbreaks for Anna that would be caused by her father’s careless, ruthless actions.

​Flash forward fourteen years. Sixteen year old Anna sits in her car, dreading the next hour to come. The queasy, gut wrenching feeling starts as she thinks about having dinner with her father for the first time in two years after he stopped showing up and stopped caring about her. Anna thinks about the last time she saw him and how terror-stricken she was as he dragged her across the floor, as she shed endless amounts of tears, as he screamed in her face until he turned beat red, as he threw her belongings across the room, and as she ran away from him, as fast her bare feet could run. The counseling they had had over the last 2 months hadn’t helped him become a better father in the slightest. The tears started to prick at the corner of her eyes while sitting in front of the restaurant that they were ordered by the court to sit in and try to have a civil meal.

​With a determined look in her eyes, she wiped away the beginning of the tears, looked into the sun visor mirror and told herself, Anna, you are strong, you can do anything you believe you can do, and you got this.

​With that, she swiped at the mirror, closed the visor, and walked away from her car, ready to face the man who had ruined her chance at true happiness.