((Reserved for Gwen))

Thick, glossy black hair bounced against her crimson, sweaty face. She was breathing heavily as her legs moved swiftly underneath her. She let her head fall back and she laughed, despite the fact that her legs were on fire and her lungs were beginning to sting with lack of oxygen.

Her almond shaped eyes flicked over to her parents, who were also dancing just as furiously as their daughter. They were dancing lines, their entire village, around a fire. Sparks drifted up into the air and illuminated the early eve’s sky. Drum beats filled the air, each dancer stomping and kicking their feet just in time to the tune. The men from the group pulled away and formed a larger ring around the women. They stomped their feet and clapped their hands as the women linked arms and danced. They were celebrating Manao and giving thanks to their ancestors.

The wind began to blow suddenly, and rain started to fall. Several women fled from the group, but a small amount remained behind. She was in the group; she flung her arms over her head and kicked her feet just a little bit harder. Rain fell and knocked her ceremonial headdress from her head and it soaked her painted face. Then, resounding throughout her world came the shriek of her alarm clock.

Bright, brown eyes opened up to see sunlight streaming in through her window. She groaned and hit at the shrieking clock. She had forgotten once again how to turn off the strange device. Laurence came into the room, just like he did every day and turned off her alarm clock. After he turned it off for her, each day he’d sit on the edge of her bed and pat her head and shoulder until she was awake enough to get out of bed. Then, Carrie would poke her head in and tell Laurence that his breakfast was ready and of course, ask Xia-Wei what she wanted for breakfast.

The strange monotony of this new life still perplexed her. Every day, she awoke at the same hour even the same minute. When she had been attending the high-class private school two hours away, she had even dressed the same way each day. Now, she simply dressed in whatever she found in her closet room. It was all, what was the word that Carrie used? Designer was it? Xia-Wei shook her head as she tried to recall. These strange English words meant nothing to her. She pulled out of her closet a pair of pants and felt herself involuntarily shudder. In her culture, women were not permitted to wear pants. Instead she found a skirt, the length far too short, but at least it was a skirt. She found also a shirt, again way too revealing.

Xia-Wei did not stop to survey her reflection in the mirror; she already knew what she would see: a Jingpo Harlot.

Laurence left for work just as Xia-Wei sat down for her own breakfast. She looked down at her plate; it was piled high with food. Eggs, bacon and pancakes in larger quantities than she had ever seen. It was what Carrie called an “All American Feast”. Carrie, her adoptive mother, had been born and raised in Alabama…wherever that was.

Xia-Wei shoveled food into her mouth without thinking and managed to clear about half of the plate until she felt her stomach grow full. She excused herself and ran to the bathroom. She finally saw her reflection, a pubescent Chinese girl. She was thin enough to rival even some third-world countries.

Her stomach churned and she collapsed on the ground in front of the toilet. She purged and purged until finally nothing came up but clear liquid. Every day, she hoped that along with the food that her guilt would be purged too. She flushed and walked back to the kitchen. Carrie grabbed her keys and led her down to their garage.

The Aucoins lived in an apartment, in the middle of a large city. Even though it had been nearly a month, Xia-Wei was still frightened of her new home. Where she had come from was a completely agricultural village. They did not even have electricity. She had been poor until she came to live with her new family.

The first time Xia-Wei saw the car she had to ask what it was. She had once heard some of the Elders in her village speak of such a machine, but never in her life had she actually seen one. She clambered into the SUV and flinched when Carrie started the engine.

“I don’t mean to be a nag, you know,” Carrie began with her strange accent, “but maybe you should try to wear a little makeup. It would really bring out your pretty eyes”

“I am not knowing how to makeup,” Xia-Wei replied in a small voice.

“Well, shoot, I could show you”

Xia-Wei said nothing but turned to look out the window as her new school approached. She was slightly horrified by the mere sight of it. There were so many people, so many odd things. Cars, boards with wheels on the bottom…phones that people can talk on without a cord…Xia-Wei blanched at the thought of being in this school.

She got out of the car and closed the door before Carrie could tell her the usual ‘have a nice day’. She walked a little closer to the doors and looked down at the schedule in her hand. Art was first and she tried to remember the route that Carrie had made her memorize. To no avail though, she couldn’t remember.

Standing there, one could fully study the fourteen year old girl. Her emaciated body looked even smaller in the clothes that Carrie had bought. She had bought all of her skirts and pants two sizes too big and she did not have any kind of a figure so her clothes hung on her body awkwardly. One side of her short, light blue skirt hung low enough to show her bony hip and the other high at her waist. On her upper body she was wearing a strange shirt that was like a tube and extremely tight. She had a small jacket around her arms that tied in the front. This strange outfit apparently was stylish. Through her shirt her ribs stuck out sharply. There was no mistaking her emaciated body for anything other than sickeningly thin.

Xia-Wei walked inside the building and looked around for her locker. People stared at her as she went by. She could feel their strange eyes burn into her and she felt so isolated and alone. She brushed her hair behind her ears and sped up a little bit. She finally found her locker and struggled to open her locker door. She felt like crying as she fumbled and fumbled with the strange lock.

She finally screamed a Jingpo curse word and cowered a little as everyone turned to look at her once more. She decided to forget about the locker and tried to find her first class. She shoved her schedule into her locker and resituated her backpack on her back. She found the door but didn’t open it because she knew that her first class had not started yet. She ran across the hall and hid in the girl’s bathroom until she heard the bell ring