by Sugoi Harris
I began hating myself. Mirrors were my enemy, I didn’t like the person I’d become but I didn’t know how to change. Desperate for something, I moved again. Another family took me in to their litter of strays, spaying me and filling my food dish.
I think that’s how it started. I began to change. Like water on a hot day the hate and pain evaporated. I began to realize something was missing. A sink hole had formed in my soul and it needed to be filled. Sitting at the bottom of this hole I thought about the mess I had made of myself. I couldn’t scratch my way to the surface, I was stuck.
Despair overwhelmed me as I contemplated on where I was really going. I felt dirty, unworthy of anything. Just as the black hole was overwhelming me I saw a point of light. I had a thought or rather I heard a voice that wasn’t my own. Your Father loves you, He will always love you, and He wants you home. As though it was real I felt the warmth of his arms encircle me. I think I always knew that truth. Though I had hated the restrictions my parents put on me I understood that in removing their bands I had only created my own tighter ones. They did love me and they would always want me home. Just like that I was the prodigal daughter returned home again.
That evening I called my father. “Daddy I want to come home.” That was all I said, like something from a country song. I could hear the tears of joy in his voice as he welcomed me back. Salty tears ran rivers down my own face as I fell into a corner, relief washing me clean again.