Salvation and a Simple Song

By Rachel Vanderwood

From the time she was old enough to understand the musical gift she was given, Ana knew the life she wanted to lead. Hopeful to draw the attention of adoring crowds of millions and a perfectly matched prince once she got her one big break, Ana kept her mind only on her fairy-tale dreams, despite changes in the world suggesting that something much bigger was on its way. Although her family tried warning her of the signs surrounding her, Ana left herself vulnerable and unprepared for the new world she was suddenly thrust into, a world that challenged everything she knew about her strength and will to survive, yet one in which through her trials she found herself on a path to understanding the woman she was truly meant to be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798888327340

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Salvation and a Simple Song

Rachel Vanderwood

ISBN 979-8-88832-733-3 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88832-735-7 (hardcover)

ISBN 979-8-88832-734-0 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by Rachel Vanderwood

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

About the Author

Chapter 1

I suppose you're wondering how a simple song can relate to someone's salvation. To be honest, I may have asked that very same question once upon a time in my life. I certainly never would have dreamed of the way my life would turn out, and I was quite the imaginative child. But I assure you, if you allow me the time to explain, the answer will be made clear, and it just might inspire you to reconsider the value of some of the simplest blessings in your own life.

I guess the best way to begin is to introduce myself. My name is Allora Ana McGregory. I am currently thirty-four and a half years old. At least to the best of my knowledge. Time seems to run a little differently now. My niece likes to keep me mindful of that, especially when I've said or done something contrary to what she wants from me. When I was a kid, the thought of being past the age of thirty before accomplishing any of my life goals would have been devastating. I had a plan to become a famous Broadway star, get married to the most handsome bachelor in my area, and have three beautiful, well-behaved children. I was determined that was how things were going to go, but just like every other well-intended plan I ever set in place for myself, forces beyond my control pulled me in another direction—several directions, in fact—before I finally found the answers that I needed.

To be sure you understand the significance of the changes I went through to become who I am today, I think it would be best if you learn who I was before the day my niece and I were thrust into a new world, a new existence, vastly different from the lives we shared with our family and friends, a world neither of us understood, and because of that, it took me away from the person I was meant to be until now.

If you knew me as a child, you could consider me to always have been a free spirit, whimsical in nature. I was very imaginative and gifted—musically, that is. I always had a song playing in my mind while I danced around my parents' fenced-in yard in the small town I grew up in. At least until the age of six, maybe seven, if I'm being completely honest, I convinced myself that I was a fairy who would one day find her wings and fly away to a magical universe where I would be surrounded by mythical creatures and allowed to eat candy and ice cream whenever I wanted. And let's not forget the dashing fairy prince who would sweep me off my feet and love me for an eternity.

When I was still young and impressionable, my mother took advantage of my interest in the melodies playing in my mind and introduced me to my first instrument, the piano. She began my lessons at age four. Even though by my nature I could be easily distracted by my surroundings, learning to play the piano was the one pastime my mother was successful in holding my attention. She tried to persuade my older sister, Ophelia—or FeFe as she was known to me—into her passion for music, but my sister was never interested in learning the skills my mother hoped to teach her. FeFe was headstrong like my dad, book smart, and set on becoming a criminal prosecutor. And unlike the goals I set for my life, she succeeded in following through with hers.

Throughout my childhood, my carefree and often curious nature was entertaining to the adults responsible for my upbringing, more specifically my parents, grandparents, and close members of my extended family. I think partly because I had a look of innocence. I was petite, fair-skinned, I had ocean-blue eyes, and my hair was soft, a lighter shade of red like my mother's and perfectly accented the freckles that eventually faded from my cheeks as I grew into my young adult years. I loved to dress as a princess, especially in light baby blue or rose petal pink gowns, and I even convinced my grandmother to design wings to match each of my outfits. But as I developed into my teenage years, and the time was approaching that I was going to have to make a serious decision on a career and which formal institution I was going to apply to enroll in, the pressures of facing reality and becoming a responsible young adult member of society were overwhelming, to say the least. Overwhelming enough that I found myself unable to decide.

I knew I wanted a career in music. I just hadn't warmed up to the idea of going through more schooling and taking subjects that had no relation to my passion, just because they were a requirement for graduating with my degree. School didn't come as easily for me as it did my sister. Like I said before, she was book smart and could easily keep her focus on her long-term goals and the means she needed to pass through to get to them. The only thing I wanted to focus on was my happy place, my music. I loved to sing, and whenever I felt the need to relieve stress, I would lock myself in my room, close my eyes, and wait for a melody to play in my mind, which always inspired words for me to write in my little pink notebook.

I had to have written dozens of songs from the time I was old enough to spell out the words. I know it may seem trivial, but when I was lost in creating lyrics to the songs that inspired me the most, I didn't feel like the failure I was forced to accept every time my parents lectured me about not being responsible enough.

I tried to convince them that I should maybe take a year off from school before I was forced into conformity like the rest of the kids my age in our tight-knit community, but despite my best efforts, my dad always seemed to win every argument. He had a way about him. If he had one, that would be his superpower, being able to control everything my sister and I did with our lives, at least when it came to important matters. I suppose in his defense, he felt it was his duty to, in protection of us anyway. He was trained to think and act in that way. Before marrying his childhood sweetheart—my mom, of course, who I have to say is the only person I ever saw my dad yield to in an argument—he served in the United State Marines Corps, and after returning to his hometown, he joined our police force, which led him into the position of being our town's chief of police. I knew his position placed an expectation on our family to live our lives as dutiful and responsible Americans, and it wasn't that any of my actions were ill-intended. It's just that my spirit craved to connect to something bigger than itself, and I struggled with finding out just what that was.

I had hoped my sister would speak out in my defense. After all, as sisters, we were supposed to have a special bond, but she always seemed to side with my dad. I guess because the two of them were mirror images of each other, at least with respect to their personalities and defining character traits. It also didn't help that my sister and I were separated by a fifteen-year age gap. I often wondered if we were closer in age, would she have been more open to considering my point of view? I loved my sister, don't get me wrong. We were just two very different people.

At my father and my sister's insistence, and with the aid of my mom, I chose the school closest to my home, about sixty miles away. It kept me close enough to keep my connections to family and friends back home and far enough away that my parents didn't need to be involved in my day-to-day activities. Looking back now, I might have been better off staying home and taking online classes to fulfill my requirements; not that I was eager to have constant surveillance inflicted on me, but it may have deterred me from the many distractions I found being free to say and do as I please.

I managed to last through my first year of college and most of my sophomore year before my dad showed up at my dorm room door to take me home. I don't think he was too pleased to find out that I didn't pass most of my classes, and those that I did, I barely received anything higher than a C-minus during my last semester there. I didn't argue when he glared down at me with his piercing dark brown eyes. I simply packed my bags and followed him to the car. Fortunately, we lived just over an hour away. If I had to sit any longer in silence, I might have exploded with anxiety.

It was never a good sign when my dad kept quiet. It usually meant that he was keeping control of the fury he felt inside from whatever was bothering him, and after he carefully considered what his best course of action should be, I always ended up on the receiving end of a stern reprimand.

I never liked disappointing my parents or anyone else, for that matter. I just wasn't the education-minded girl everyone wanted me to be. I had one passion, my musical gifts, and I saw nothing wrong with dreaming about the fantasies I created as a child. I was good-hearted. I never meant to hurt anyone for being who I was. I would help anyone, but I always felt that I was meant to find my fairy prince who loved my music just as much as I did and live happily ever after. And in case you're wondering, my desire to find that ideal romance is what caused the trouble that seemed to find me, most of the time anyway. I was outgoing. I loved life. People were drawn to me for that reason, even the not-so-savory ones.

I'll never forget the tension I felt sitting beside my dad in the passenger seat of our four-door sedan as he pulled into our driveway. He hadn't said one word to me on the way home. After parking the car and turning off the engine, he opened his driver's side door, grabbed my bags from the back seat behind him, and made his way toward the side door entrance of our two-story home, leaving the door open as a suggestion for me to follow him inside. Neither of my parents ever hit me or abused me, but whenever my dad was angry or upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid. He only needed to give me one look, and I knew to keep quiet until it was my turn to speak.

He had a commanding presence about him, especially that evening. He towered over me with my mother standing directly beside him to help him control his temper. I prepared myself for when his words began pouring out from his mouth, and the higher the intensity of his deep baritone voice escalated, the more upset he became. He looked down at me timidly sitting on the sofa in our family room, waiting for him to begin. I took a deep sobering breath in and held it longer than I normally would have. Then I exhaled, knowing that when I did, the lecture would begin.

Ana, when are you going to grow up and take some responsibility for yourself! You're not a child any longer! Your mother and I won't always be here to get you out of the mess you seem to always find yourself in! Don't think I don't know about the parties you've been attending instead of dedicating your time to your studies! Your mother and I sacrificed and saved every penny we had to see that you and your sister each got a decent education!

Dad, I know, I really do, I promise. I understand why you're upset—

You understand? If you understood, you wouldn't waste your mind and talents on this fantasy you've created of a life that doesn't exist! You would pay more attention to the lessons your classes are meant to teach!

Dad, I try. I do, but I just can't stay focused. When I'm in class, at least in the beginning of the lecture anyway, I focus on every word the professor says, but eventually… I don't know…the words begin to fade away somehow, and I get distracted.

Distracted? By what, Ana? Your silly fantasies? Or the boys you seem to like to take with you to your friend's parties? Don't think I don't know who you've been hanging around with! I may have been just over an hour away, but I have my ways. I have eyes watching over you!

Eyes, Dad? Really?

Yes, Ana. No one knows you better than your mother and me. We know the kinds of distractions that keep you from your responsibilities.

Roland!

What, Lorelei? Someone needs to make sure she's taking precautions. Her actions have consequences.

And what actions are you referring to, Dad? What exactly are you suggesting?

Ana, I'm not so blinded by my old-school values that I don't know the types of boys you associate yourself with. Do you remember your boyfriend Grayson from your junior year in high school?

Grayson?

The Elusive Cyber King G, forgive me.

What about him, Dad?

He was arrested last week for hacking into the security system of our local bank! The very bank your mother and I have entrusted our life savings to, not to mention the savings of many others of our law-abiding community members. What could you possibly see in the boys you've chosen to associate yourself with?

Dad, I was in high school. That was, like, three years ago. Besides, Grayson was into graphic design at the time. He created some amazing images out of my descriptions of my childhood fantasies. But our relationship didn't last long. He was too controlling. I had to tell him everywhere I went. And he even insinuated that I was cheating on him, even though he was the one cheating on me with every girl who allowed him to get away with it. But I, on the other hand, did not. I can honestly say I was true to my boyfriend at the time as I have been to anyone else I've dated. I don't believe in being unfaithful to someone.

Well, I'm certainly glad to know you have some morals about you, Ana, because too many of your actions would suggest otherwise.

What actions, Dad? What is it you think I do?

Do you really want me to answer that for you, Ana? I may be an old man as you like to call me to your friends, older anyhow, but this old boy isn't so naïve to what the world has become. I hope at least you're keeping yourself protected.

Dad! I couldn't believe my father thought so little of me to suggest what he did, especially since not one bit of it was true.

Roland! How could you suggest such a thing?

It's the way of the world now, Lorelei. Either we accept it or die trying to fight it.

I don't know what these spies you supposedly have watching over me have said to you, Dad, but my true actions aren't anything like what you think they are. Do I have a lot of friends? Sure. Have I dated a couple of guys since I've been away? Yes, but that doesn't mean I've compromised myself or my values, that I can promise. Besides, what about FeFe?

What about your sister? She's happily married as she has been for the past nine years, and there is no sign that either she nor her husband would ever break the vows they made to each other. Especially in consideration of the welfare of their daughter, your niece. Your sister is a wonderful mother to Mara. You should be so lucky to have a child like her someday. It might just settle you down a bit. Not that I'm encouraging you to bring a child into the world now. Believe me, you have a long way to go before you're ready, and with the luck you seem to have, you'll have a child just as wild and carefree as you are.

As unamused as I was by my father's commentary, I kept my cool long enough to share the juicy details about my otherwise previously assumed perfect sister. I'm not talking about her relationship with Max, Dad. I'm talking about summer break after her first year of college when she returned home instead of taking the opportunity to study abroad. Do you want to know the real reason she passed on the opportunity that you and Mom begged her to reconsider?

Yes, Ana, enlighten us. Your mother and I would love to hear what you think is so incriminating about your sister.

Let's just say that FeFe rekindled an old flame from high school before fall classes began again. You know who I'm talking about, Dad—Brax Cantor, the guy you detested and convinced my sister to break off with before going away to college. I knew I struck a nerve with my father. Okay, so my tactics were less than ethical, and I may have broken some sister code of conduct, but I was tired of being expected to live up to FeFe's level. I wasn't FeFe, I was Ana, and I didn't know anyone else that I would rather be.

It took a moment for my father to respond to me. I knew he was furious not to have known about FeFe's defiance, and I'm certain the thought of her having an affair with one of the boys he disliked the most ate away at him, even if her little hot and heavy summer tryst happened more than a decade before the moment we were in.

Well, at least your sister had the decency to choose boys with actual names and not pseudonyms for the delinquent activities they involve themselves in!

Okay, all right, now this arguing isn't getting us anywhere. Ana what your father is trying to say is that we are worried about you. Life isn't easy. And with the world constantly changing, especially in ways that may not necessarily be for the good, we want to know that you will be safe and make good decisions when you are out on your own.

I know, Mom. I'm just not like FeFe. I can't control it. It's just how I am.

Control? The only way to control you is to tie you down to the sofa there and do your schoolwork with you.

All right, Roland, she gets the point.

She better or my men will be arresting her someday.

My mother looked at my father before addressing me again. He knew by her expression that she wasn't happy with his response. Just as he could give my sister and I one look and we knew to behave, my mother had a look of her own that resulted in his immediate compliance.

And the point your father needs to understand is that it isn't fair to compare you to your sister. You will find your way, Ana, in your time. Just try to think a little harder about the things you do before you get involved in something. Your father was right in one thing when he said that your actions have consequences. Not necessarily the actions he was suggesting of you but actions you involve yourself in when you become distracted. Now why don't you go on up to your room and put your things away? Give your father a chance to cool down a bit. I'll be up in just a little while to check on you.

All right, Mom, I said before I got up from the sofa, picked up my bags, and walked upstairs to my room. I knew it was best to walk away, even for a moment. I never liked arguing with my father. I loved my parents. They just never understood me. And they never knew how badly I wanted to make them proud.

I wish now that I had paid closer attention to the advice my parents were trying to give me that night. Maybe then I would have been prepared for what was coming in just a matter of a few short years, although I'm not sure anything could have really prepared me. I knew my dad faced a lot of pressure in our community. As small as it was, our town wasn't kept isolated from the changes in the world surrounding us, changes that soon made everyone reconsider what their values were and what they believed in. Even my parents began frequenting church more often than they used to. My sister and her family did as well. I didn't see the need. I believed in God. That was enough, right? At least that's what I thought then when I assumed I had more than enough time to explore the principles I believed or not to be true. But I was wrong. And just like any other time in my life when I was faced with an important decision, my distractions pulled me away.

Chapter 2

Before I knew it, the years quickly passed, and I found myself having recently celebrated my twenty-third birthday. And despite the constant pressure from my parents and older sister to choose a career and finish my education, I always found ways to justify why I hadn't yet settled my carefree ways to find clear direction. Each day, I reasoned just one more day, and I'll be ready, but that day never came, at least not by my own doing.

I found myself in an endless search for employment, resulting in dozens of meaningless jobs and financial struggles. I did manage to keep my dream of music alive, however, in practice at least. I managed to make enough to afford vocal lessons, and on the weekends, I sang in a local coffee shop. It was the only place my father would approve of me to practice my talents in public. He wasn't too keen on the idea of me sharing my gifts late nights in the town bars. And with good reason. The crime in our area seemed to catch up to what was happening around the world, keeping my sister busy at work defending the rights of the innocent victims by putting away the criminals who tormented them.

I respected my father and my sister's points of view, especially when they expressed their concerns on my behalf, but there was only one person in my family who totally got me. Someone who was just as open and excited to talk about magical worlds and eternal love as I was. I assume partly because she was only seven, but no matter the expectations of her age or relation to me, she was a kindred spirit.

Her name is Mara, and I was her favorite aunt—well, still am. Back then, I think it was mostly in part because I was her mother's only sibling and the fact that her father only had brothers. She even looked like me, aside from her deep auburn-colored hair. She had my eyes and freckles. But what truly inspired the bond we had with each other was her wild and carefree heart, and whenever she and I were lucky enough to spend time together, it always turned into some big adventure, at least in the imaginary sense anyway.

There was nothing I would rather do than spend time with my niece Mara. She was the only person in my life that never made me feel like a complete failure. When I lived with my parents, we had countless sleepovers and outdoor fun. I, of course, was her primary means of entertainment, not that she didn't love spending time with my parents, but our spirits seemed to be connected somehow, like we were meant to always be around each other.

When I finally saved enough money to afford my own place, I couldn't wait to buy furniture and decorate it so I could officially host a sleepover with Mara on my own. My sister was skeptical to allow me that time alone with her at first. I think there were times she thought my niece was more responsible than I was, and back then, she may have been right. FeFe saw Mara differently than I did. I know she wanted Mara to be more like her, but that's not who she was.

I wasn't offended that FeFe wouldn't allow me to take her at first. I understood. I knew my sister better than anyone and knew she was just trying to be a good mother. Being our town's lead prosecutor put her in a position to see the other side of life. The dangers that lurked in the dark, waiting to strike an unsuspecting victim, but I would fight to the end to protect my niece. As free-spirited and easily distracted as I was, I always kept mindful of my niece's safety.

I must admit the day my sister finally gave in and allowed me to take my niece to my apartment for an overnight visit was exciting, to put it mildly. I made sure to buy all her favorite snacks, not the ones my sister forced her to eat but the good ones. And I picked out just the right movies to watch, none rated higher than PG, of course. When I pulled up to my sister's three-story home in the upscale neighborhood she and her husband lived in that Friday afternoon, I found Mara standing on her front porch next to my sister, clutching tightly to the straps on her overnight bag as she waited for the right moment to break away from the hold my sister had on her.

As soon as I parked my navy-blue Jeep Wrangler that I convinced my dad to buy me for my twenty-first birthday two years before, Mara raced down the steps of her front porch toward me. My sister, of course, followed close behind her to give me my final instructions before I left with her daughter for the rest of the day and night.

After helping Mara into her seat and strapping her in, FeFe kissed her on the forehead and said to her, Now you listen to your aunt, Mara. She's in charge. I know how easily persuaded she can be, especially by you, but you need to do what she tells you.

I will, Mom, I promise.

Good. I'm counting on you.

I'll be a good girl, Mom, don't worry.

It's not you I'm worried about, my sister mumbled to herself as she turned to look in my direction. I couldn't help but find humor in her insinuation. I laughed. I knew the reputation I had in my family and I knew myself that I needed to take on more responsibility. I just hadn't yet been inspired to settle on the direction my life should go.

Ana, I packed extra clothes in case the two of you get yourselves into some sort of a mess. Her toothbrush and mouthwash are in the front pocket of her bag. Make sure she uses them. I can only imagine what snacks you bought for tonight. And Mara, I expect you to be asleep no later than nine, understood?

Nine, FeFe? It's Friday night and it's her first time at my new place. She would have to stay awake until at least ten to finish the movies I picked out for us to watch.

Fine, ten, but no later, understood?

Yes, Mom. Ten.

Yes, boss, ten. Got it.

Good, I'm trusting you, Ana.

Don't worry, FeFe. I'm taking her straight to my place. We're staying in for the night. I'll even have her call you before she goes to bed.

That would help.

I know. You can trust me, okay?

Okay, Ana. Be safe with my girl.

As young as she was, Mara was smart and intuitive to her mother's concern over her. She looked at her mother and smiled. I love you, Mommy. I'll call you tonight, I promise.

I love you too, Mara. I'll be waiting for your call.

When she was certain Mara and I were set on a quiet night at my place with our only planned adventure consisting of girl talk and movies, my sister closed the door and stepped away from my vehicle so I could back out onto the main road. While most of my attention was focused on making sure there was no traffic behind me, I turned back only once to look at my sister. She stood perfectly still in her driveway with her arms folded in front of her. Her eyes never left my niece. I had seen the gaze she kept on Mara before. I recognized it from the many times my mother watched over me in the moments just before I found myself in situations that usually led to skinned knees or broken bones.

FeFe had that look as if she was expecting it to be the last time she saw Mara as she was. I've heard people say that mothers have a special bond with their children, a bond that allows them to sense when something life altering is about to happen. I believe that, especially now having been through what I have and knowing my own mother always knew when trouble was about to find me. But despite my tendency to favor those who believed in such connections, I brushed it off as my sister's duty as a mother to question every situation regarding her child.

*****

Just as I expected, the hours we spent that afternoon into the evening were filled with laughter, imaginative play, and makeovers preparing us for the fairy princes that would one day carry us away. And even though my sister was right in her suggestion that Mara had a way of persuading me into bending the rules, I stayed true to my promise that I would take care of her like a responsible adult. When it was time to wash for bed and brush her teeth, I found that the best strategy to counter her reluctance was to turn the ordinary nighttime rituals into a game, making it much easier to coerce her into the tub for bath time and afterward brush the leftover particles of sugary icing and cake that were left behind on her teeth.

When the hour of ten hit, I turned off the TV and tucked her into the princess blankets on the futon beside my full-sized bed. I was proud of myself. I could handle this responsible adult thing. And to set an even better example, I laid down to sleep myself. Sure, I normally didn't go to sleep before three most mornings, but I was confident that I would drift off if I lay on my bed long enough. I may have been successful in falling asleep in that moment. I began to feel the heaviness in my eyes as they began to close, but just as I prepared for a night of whimsical dreams, I heard my niece's voice call out my name.

Aunt Ana. Aunt Ana, are you awake?

Maybe, but I won't be for long, I answered her. I wasn't trying to encourage her to disobey her mother's strict orders. I wanted my sister to trust me to take Mara again.

I can't sleep. Can I come lay next to you on your bed?

Mara, is this your way of staying up later?

No, I can't sleep. I keep hearing noises.

Mara, it's just my neighbors. Some of them get home late from work.

Oh. Are you sure?

Yes, now go to sleep.

Okay. Aunt Ana?

Yes, Mara.

Are you sure there isn't enough room for me on your bed?

Are the noises making you that nervous?

Yes.

Fine. But you need to try to sleep. I don't want to get into trouble if your mother finds out that I let you stay up half the night.

Satisfied she had convinced me to allow her to sleep beside me, Mara quickly climbed into my bed and covered herself with my blankets.

Are you satisfied?

Yes, she assured me with a gleeful giggle as she settled herself into a comfortable position to sleep.

Good, now it's time to dream of faraway places and magical adventures.

Okay. Good night, Aunt Ana. I love you.

I love you too, Mara.

I never knew how important those words were to a child. Or to me. I was naïve to the true responsibility that came with taking care of someone so young and innocent. I suppose that's why my sister and my parents were so hesitant to let me take her on my own. I was still finding my way. I hadn't matured enough myself to understand the changes I needed to make to become the person they hoped I would be. And whether I was ready or not, the change was going to be forced upon me sooner than I thought.

Once Mara was lying next to me, and confident in my protection over her from the noises she heard coming from the hallways of my apartment building, she fell fast asleep. And not long after, so did I.

On most nights, my dreams were nothing more than random images of places and people I've met or hoped to meet. And occasionally, I would dream of my perfect prince who shared in my fantasy of being taken to a far-off place, a mystical realm caught between the reality I knew and the remnants of my childhood imagination. But tonight, unlike most nights, I found myself drifting in and out of conscious awareness as peculiar sights and sounds infiltrated themselves into the visions I had playing through my mind as my body fought to rest.

My dreams led me to a place I did not recognize. A white space devoid of the clear outlines of buildings or places I was familiar with. I was alone. I heard voices but saw no one. There was an urgency in their conversations but nothing I could immediately understand or see. Then, suddenly, I heard my niece calling out for me. I couldn't see her at first. She sounded frightened. I followed the sounds of her voice until I could no longer hear her.

I stopped, and within a matter of seconds, I began to hear music playing. The first sounds seemed distant, but as I stood and listened, waiting to find clear direction to locate my niece, the music intensified so loudly that the space I was in began to vibrate, making it hard for me to remain standing upright. I suddenly began hearing Mara calling out for me again, and when I looked in the direction of the sounds her voice made, I saw her standing not far from me holding tightly to her pink stuffed animal bunny to give her comfort from her fears. I began running toward her, and the closer I got to her, the louder I could hear her cries.

Aunt Ana. Aunt Ana, wake up! Please wake up! she began calling out to me. When I finally reached her, I felt something forcefully pushing my shoulder, causing me to rock back and forth. It was then I realized I was still dreaming, and Mara was calling out to me, trying to force me awake.

As I slowly peeled my tired eyes open, the music I heard began to fade away, but the vibrations in the earth the music caused seemed to remain consistent, even now when I was no longer in a dream state. I looked at Mara. She had tears in her eyes. Like me, she was trying to understand what was happening. Were we caught in an earthquake? Had there been an accident below us, causing the building to shake?"

I looked at my watch. It read just past 1:00 a.m. I jumped out of my bed and ran to the window. If it was an earthquake, I needed to figure out how to get us out of there and to safety. Even though I prepared myself as I ran toward the front window in my third-floor apartment, I had no way of knowing how to react when I faced chaos ensuing on the streets below me. Many of my neighbors had already left their apartments and homes in the streets surrounding my building. Their cars began flooding the main roads, fleeing from the shifts in the earth causing buildings to collapse and disintegrate in a matter of seconds.

My mind was in a state of shock. I couldn't process what was happening fast enough. I pinched myself, hoping I was still dreaming, but I wasn't. I was fully awake and had to make an immediate decision. All I knew in that moment was that I had to get Mara away and to safety before the building we were in collapsed along with the others. I quickly turned. She was still sitting upright on my bed, waiting for me to direct her what to do.

Mara, we need to leave now! Grab your bag!

Aunt Ana, I want my mom! she began crying.

I know. Me too. I'll call her as soon as I can, but right now, you need to listen to me so I can get you out of here.

Mara immediately jumped off my bed and did what I asked of her. Her overnight bag was resting against the wall beside my bed, allowing her easy access to swiftly pick it up as we prepared to leave. I ran to her and