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swans taking their morning baths.
    When I was ten, my dad took me into the heart of Providence and while he was shopping in the hardware store, I wandered off to the park across the street. It didn’t take him long to come bolting out of the store, yelling my name.
    “Sophie, we are in the worst area of town,” he said, dragging me back to the car. To this day, I don’t understand how something so beautiful could have been so bad.
    I turned down the volume on my IPod and sat on a nearby bench to watch some ducks and a few swans splash around. I envied how carefree and peaceful they looked, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. I felt myself go into a daze as I started wishing that I knew what it felt like not be broken. What true happiness felt like again? I couldn’t help wondering if ducks and swans had feelings like we do. That if they knew how hard it was to live with nothing but anger inside, and if they ever hated the world around them as much I as do. Something I’ll never understand is how God chooses whose life he’s going to ruin, and who gets to live a life full of nothing but happiness. My Aunt Jackie has been trying to convince me that God didn’t take my mom to hurt me, and that everything happens for a reason, so I need to stop blaming Him. I seriously doubt I will ever agree with her, or my mom, who to me, always gave Him too much credit. I put my faith in Him once, and He paid me back by breaking my heart beyond repair. To me, God doesn’t deserve to be a part of my life anymore, and He definitely doesn’t deserve what’s left of my heart.
    With a heavy heart, I turned my music back up and finished my run. I was ecstatic to see my dad unloading his car when I returned home.
    “You’re home,” I said cheerfully.
    “What are you doing out this early?”
    “Running, like I’ve been doing for years,” I replied.
    “I knew that.” He smiled. “I got something for you in Paris.” He walked into the house.
    “I’m guessing it’s not the car I’ve been hoping for.”
    “I couldn’t fit that in my suitcase, so I got you this instead.” He pulled out a picture frame that had the word Paris written on the top of it, and inside was a picture of him standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
    “Wow, thanks, Dad,” I said. “Now I can always be reminded of all the places you go without me.”
    “No problem.” He smirked.
    “Are you hungry?”
    “Nothing but airline and hotel food for almost two weeks, I’m starving.” He replied.
    I listened to his adventurous passengers stories as I made breakfast for us. Most of the time, I’m pretty sure he makes up stories for my entertainment since some of them are so far out there, and nothing remotely close to what he tells me ever happens when I fly, but I don’t care. All I care about is the time we get to spend together while he shares them.
    I was smart and let him do most of the talking, since the lack of packing my room was the only interesting thing that has happened since he left, and that was a subject I didn’t want to discuss at the moment, if ever. If he found out how little I actually got done, he would take over, and I would come home to little pink rabbit walls again.
    After another hour of looking at pictures of his two-week stay in Europe, I finally headed to a much-needed shower.
    “Sophie?” I heard my dad yell through the door.
    “I’m in the shower.”
    “What do you have planned for the day?” He got louder.
    “Not much.”
    “Do you want to play some tennis?” he asked.
    “Sure. I’ll be out in a few.”
    A little spark of excitement rushed through me as I quickly rinsed my hair. I couldn’t remember the last time we played together, and I really needed to let out a little steam.
    “Dad?” I hollered when I walked outside.
    “I’m in the garage.”
    A dreadful feeling stopped me in my tracks when I turned the corner and saw what he was wearing. He had a neon yellow sweatband on his head with matching