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His voice echoes throughout the room, “Now, be a good girl for me.”

My eyes shoot open and I immediately sit up, wailing a fearful screech. I look around to find myself, alone, in my own bedroom. I breathe a sigh of relief. Shit, what a nightmare. Peeling off the covers, I see I have completed drenched the bed in sweat. I rest my palm on my forehead, allow myself to cry for a few minutes, and decide to try and get my mind off of it.

I head into the kitchen to get a glass of water and look at the clock. Three o’clock. I groan. Got to get up in two hours. Might as well stay awake. Shuffling to the living room, I plop on the sofa, and tune to whatever the television is airing at this hour. As I flick through the channels, I decide that reruns of Seinfeld are the best remedy. You can never have too much Kramer.

For the next hour, I revel in the joys and laughs of Jerry and his friends. I remember watching this show with my mother. It was one of her favorites. A feeling of sorrow and bleakness descends upon me as I recall a few memories with her. Before I go down that anguished road, I decide to get up and hop in the shower. Thirty minutes later, I’m outside jogging to the gym. I arrive a little early for my kick-boxing class, but it’s okay. I need to get in as much practice as I can.

Sipping on my PowerAde, I head up to the practice mat. Jumping up and down, I roll my head and begin to stretch. I see a few of the other students enter the studio and I wave hello to them. Continuing my stretch, the instructor, Derrick, enters the studio about five minutes later.

He walks to the front of the studio, “Good morning, everyone. Let’s get those last stretches in and we’ll begin in a few minutes. Today, we’ll work on balancing while empowering the jab and cross kicks.”

Derrick pairs us up into groups of four and we practice balancing while holding our kicks in place. One of my group partners, Mia, grabs hold of the practice bag and I take aim as my right leg jabs into it. The four of us rotate practice kicks with the bag, and after that session, Derrick instructs us to try a few practice moves on each other.

After an hour long session of jabs, crosses, front kicks, and even a few uppercuts, my drained body cries out in need of rest. As the students clear out, Derrick walks up to me, “Great job today, Raya. In only a short amount of time, you’ve really improved.”

My face beams, “Thanks, Derrick. I take this class very seriously and always want to be my best.”

He smiles back, “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I’ll see you next week.”

I decide to walk back to my apartment instead of jogging. The spring air feels good against my sweaty skin as I cut through the park. There are kids on the playground, pigeons being pigeons, and even a few squirrels scattering across the grassy lawns. I look up into the soft blue sky and think about what he’s doing at this moment. Is he thinking of me? Does he even realize what day it is?

Several people are gathered around a fountain and tossing pennies into it. I walk up to the fountain and check my pockets only to come up empty.

An elderly man standing next to me leans in, “Make a wish.”

I shake my head, “I don’t have a coin.”

He reaches into his pocket and hands me a dime. “Here, it’s my last one.”

I deny his offer, “Oh no, I can’t. That’s yours.”

He urges, “You need this wish more than I do.”

I surrender and take the dime, “Thank you.”

Turning to look at the magnificent fountain as the water spurts out and flows under its folds, I see tons of coins at the bottom—hoping they represent a few fulfilled wishes.

I close my eyes, think of a wish, and immediately envision him. I wish for his happiness. Opening my eyes, I toss the dime into the fountain, watching it slowly sink and cluster with the other hopefuls.

I head to the corner grocery store to grab a few things for dinner tonight. On the way home, I pass a local bakery and decide to grab a few cupcakes—yellow cake with chocolate frosting…my favori

te. What the hell, I deserve a few sweets.

After a long day of work at the diner and a tranquil, hot bath, I make my way into the kitchen to grab a cupcake. I spin to open a drawer and grab the matches and candles. Quickly striking a match along the strip, I light a small, pink decorative candle and place it into the center of the cupcake.

I hold the cupcake and whisper, “Happy Birthday,” then blow it out and wish that next year will be a better year. Who am I kidding? It will never get better.

After devouring the cupcakes, I walk out onto the balcony and stare into the night sky. Memories of my mother invade my mind and tears escape my eyes.

“I miss you, Mom. I wish you were here.”

Raya

I walk into the restaurant, head into the employee lounge, and hang up my coat. Layla strolls in a few minutes later and leans up against an end table. She lets out a deep breath and runs her palm across her forehead, wiping away the sweat.

“Hey, Layla, how’s it going so far?” I quickly change into my Three Aces t-shirt and pin my name tag.

“It’s been really busy today but it’s tourist season, so what do you expect?”

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