Impregnated with more than just a child, her mind is full of the life ahead. She sits on the grey cement porch step. A black t-shirt, frayed cut-off  shorts, and years that belong to a much older soul. Matter of factually she will talk about her difficult life as though it has easily slipped off of her icy back, but inside she is a million broken pieces swept up and thrown away into the deep cavity of her heart. Hidden for so long, no one would recognize her broken frame if she emerged from the dark places. She knows that the pieces cannot be returned to their original place. They must be used to make something new. Something different. Not what it was. Not what it should have been. Something. Entirely. Different.