Chapter I

Jane’s parents took her on vacation to a beach when she was very small. The hotel was nice. The beach was pretty. The sun stretched low in the sky. Jane’s parents sat at the poolside bar, having a drink. A few yards from the bar, little Jane sat on the sand by herself. She was building a castle. Her small fingers molded the towers. She carved out a moat. Jane liked the sand in her toes. She liked the way castles looked. Jane was very proud of her castle. The sand was Jane’s kingdom. Mommy was God. The moat was seahorses’ ocean. Jane ran over to the bar.
“Mommy! Come see my castle,” Jane said.

“Jane what have you been doing, you're covered in sand,” Jane’s mother said.

“Filthy,” Her father said.

“Come look at my castle.” Jane repeated. No answer.

“Margaret go find the Nanny to clean her up,” Jane’s father said.

“Where did she run off too.. what do we pay her for anyway. Filthy,” Margaret said. She grabbed small Jane by the wrist and dragged her off to the Nanny. Jane started crying.

“Jane stop that.” Little Jane couldn’t.

A Forced Yellow Sun

Jane got up. Tap tap on the window. It was raining. She wanted to skip school, but she had a soccer game that day. Jane hated school and hated home. Jane hated it almost everywhere. School was too complicated. It was too hard for her. But Jane was smart.
Jane crept past her parent’s room. Her father was gone on business. She did not want to wake her mother. One less episode. She tiptoed down the grand staircase.

Jane walked to school. She forgot her rain jacket. Her hair became soaked. She went to class all wet. She hardly raised her hand. Only when she could no longer stand listening to her classmates.

“What do you think the effect of the Civil War was?” Mrs. Reed asked. Jane knew. Jane looked out the window instead. Her mind went blank. That was better. The rain had stopped. The clouds were out. The sun was trying to force its way through. Light stretched in small streaks across the classroom. The bell rang. Finally. Jane gathered her stuff. The teacher stopped her.

“Jane, I would like you to try to participate in class. I know you're very bright. Your work reflects it. I would like you to share your ideas with the class,” Mrs. Reed said. Jane said nothing.

“I’m disappointed, Jane are you listening to me?” Jane wasn’t. She looked down and chose to watch the sun streak across the floor.
“Jane?” She looked up.
“Is everything ok?”
Jane nodded and walked out.
Jane had to leave. She pushed open the gym doors. She would go home. The sun was too bright and the air was too cold. Jane began to run. She ran to her house. Jane’s mom was still on the bed. She crept by her.
Jane went into her room. She closed the door. She locked the door. She locked it again. Again. Then again. It was safe.
Jane slid against the back of the door. Just to make sure. She let her head back. Jane’s hands shook. She sat on them. Jane’s mind went blank. Finally. She shut her eyes. Then fell asleep.
Jane woke up. Her head still against the door. Her back hurt. It was dusk. The sun streaks had disappeared.
The time was 5:32. Her soccer game! In a panic Jane stood up. She put on her unwashed uniform. Grabbed her cleats. Jane crept through the hall. Mom was still asleep. Her feet dangled off the bed. Jane tried not to look too hard. She was already late. Jane stopped though. She tiptoed in. Her mom lay still. Her breath went in and out. Her chest up and down. One hand off the bed, grazed the floor. Jane grabbed the bottle off the nightstand. She did not want her mom to wake.
Jane took the bottle outside. She threw it in the recycling. One more bottle to the pile. Jane started running to the school. Maybe she would catch the second half. Jane ran faster. She was at the field. It was half. They were losing. Her team was in a huddle. Jane joined them. Her coach did not acknowledge her. Jane felt small. The huddle was over, the team took the field. Jane started to run onto the field. Jane was very good, she always started and played the whole game.
"Jane, get on the bench," her coach said. Jane did. The team was losing.
"Can I go in?" Jane asked.
"No. Jane you need to be on time to play for me."
Every pass was off and every goal was missed. Jane knew she could play better than them. They lost.
"We'll that’s it girls. Bring it in." Her coach said. Jane huddled with the team. The team and Jane high fived their opponents. Everyone was packing up. Jane still sat on the bench.
Jane's coach walked toward her.
"You're staying after with me."
Jane knew her punishment would come.
"Jane you let me down and your team. Get on the line," her coach said. Jane walked to the line.
“When I blow my whistle, you are going to run the lines. You really disappointed me today.”
The whistle blew. Jane was in good shape. Jane ran. She could go faster. Her coach knew that.
“Really that’s all you have?” her coach yelled. Jane picked it up. No longer was Jane’s mind blank. She was trying so hard. Her legs started to slow. Her lungs hurt. Her whole body hurt. The double whistle finally blew. Jane did not stop though. She kept running. All Jane could do was run.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Her coach said. Jane was gasping for air. She still ran. The first line and back. The next line then back. Only the lines.The air was becoming too thin. Her breath too fast.
“Come here.” Jane didn’t.
“Jane.” She stopped.
“Did that hurt?”
Jane said nothing. Her chest heaved.
“Does it hurt? Because you hurt your team, if it doesn’t we will do more. We can always do more,” her coach said to Jane.
Jane started to walk back to the line. The coach shook her head. The whistle blew again. Jane ran. She was small again. Too small.
She stopped.
“It hurts.” Jane said chokily.
“It does, doesn't it?”
It was quiet. Her heart beating fast.
Jane started to cry. Jane was a straight A student. A talented athlete. Jane had everything. Jane was crying.


Chapter II

Jane ran down the stairs then slid the last five steps on the grand banister. She loved the last five steps.
“Jane stop running. Your parents will be home soon,” Nanny said. Jane didn’t, she loved to run.
“Only if you can catch me,” Jane said. She ran past the kitchen through the dining room. Crash she went into the table. The large decorative pot fell along with her. Nanny squealed. The door opened.
“Margaret what is that ruckuss, the child is making? Nanny?” Jane’s father said. Jane was hurt.
“My vase!” Margaret shrieked. Jane got up. She started to run. Under the table out the back door. Across the yard. To her tree. She climbed and climbed. She was safe. A little while later came Margaret hysterical, along with her father and Nanny.
“Jane come down,” Her father ordered. Jane shook her head.
“Jane, you don’t want Daddy to get angry.” Jane’s father was already angry. Too angry.
“Down.” Daddy repeated.
He came closer to the tree. The tree was not very wide but was tall. Only a small child could climb it. An adult would break under the branches.
“Down.” He stepped closer to the tree. He began to shake it. Jane clung on. She was very high up.
“Stop.” Nanny and Margaret said.
The father ignored the women. He shook and shook. Harder and Faster. He was too strong. Too angry. Jane was scared. Jane began to cry.