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Knife—because he told the story a million times, she gained access. The lock popped open and with a soft tug she grabbed what she wanted from inside.
    She slogged up the stairs toward the front door, clasped her father’s keys and walked out of the house without informing her parents.
    Once inside of her father’s navy blue 1994 Honda Prelude, she drove a mile up the street to the 7-Eleven. Parking the car in two spots at the same time, she grabbed the item from her father’s chest, walked into the store and pointed the gun at the store’s employee.
    “Hands in the air,” she said so dryly the cashier giggled. “This is a stickup.”
     
    ****
     
    With her work done, Snow walked into the house, leaving the gun and the money she’d stolen on the driver’s seat of the car. When she bent the corner to the dining room, her parents were still at the table…waiting.
                  “What took you so long?” Lamont asked with a lowered brow. “Is your stomach upset?”
    This bitch better not be pregnant , he thought.
                  “No. I’m fine.”
                  “Well what’s up, baby?” Maureen asked, only five seconds away from crying. “You’re scaring me.”
                  Before she could respond, the front of their house lit up in an amazing display of red and blue lights. The thundering sound of police banging on the door startled everyone but Snow.
                  There was no use in Snow leaving the table. If they wanted her, they would have their way and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Instead, she remained calm, grabbed the cold undercooked chicken, took a bite and waited for her new fate.
     
    ****
     
    Snow sat in the van and glanced out of the window as it drove down the street. A few other girls were inside and although they introduced themselves to one another, nobody bothered to speak to her. She didn’t care much; at least that’s what her mind said. Besides, she’d had a long week and all she wanted to do was be alone.
                  After robbing the store, she was evaluated by a psychiatrist because it was totally unlike Snow. She was a straight 'A' student and every member in the church’s congregation spoke in her defense. It was agreed that for whatever reason, she simply snapped. However, she still needed to be punished.
    So Snow was remanded to Strawberry Meadows Group Home. In her parents’ honest opinion, after Slack Jaw Morris placed his hands on her she probably lost reason, and when the judge saw the spit juice collecting in the corners of his mouth, she agreed.
                  When the bus stopped in front of a building that resembled anything but a home, Snow’s body trembled. It wasn’t until then that she realized that all of her life she had the benefit of her parents’ love and protection. But who would protect her now?
    Strawberry Meadows was a co-ed facility for children who were not totally bad, but on the verge of getting into trouble. Although the program was meant to put troubled teenagers back on track, they didn’t have enough employees to handle the one hundred and twenty kids who roamed the halls. As a result, it was a breeding ground for strife.
                  “Get off the bus!” yelled a white woman who hopped on the vehicle when the doors opened. She was a mammoth sized beast with huge eyes and boulders for fists. “You’re at Strawberry Meadows now! In here, I’m your mama!” Although she preferred the mother moniker, the children called her Ms. Brush Face behind her back. She had so much hair on her face you could barely see her eyes.
                  Snow popped up from her seat and entered the line of girls moving toward the exit. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she made her way toward the entrance.
    She would hate it there!
    She was sure of it!
                  Until she walked through the doors and