From then on, I grew up in the fall season of my life. As the years passed, my old leaves fell and I carried a more lighter point of view of my world. There was no more struggle; simply daily chores that were littered throughout the day. When there were storms, I opened the window to listen to the drops of rain, performing a splendid tap dance. The sun came out and shone its love to my flowery planes and only good and growth came from its deliverance. However, this period of time, despite its long length, would someday be over. Good times and bad times have their see-sawing equilibriums and, strangely, for awhile, all I had were sweets. A cold, brumal premonition loomed in my wake. Its shadow crept slowly like a cloud but its impact would carve a chunk of my heart out and I would soon be tested with loneliness once more

    I hung next to Valentina and Valentina alone. I still had no friends (the gossip and slurs from Petunia blocked out my chances of ever having one) but I went through my school days with private happiness and anticipation. I accepted myself as the “douchebaggy girl” and so did everyone else as they addressed me by that name as if I was assigned with it by birth. And nothing else happened. Everyone went on with their day and even Petunia lost sight of me when she was convinced that her “dominance” finally put me in my place. I was dead to everyone but that was okay: no one would bother with a ghost. When I grew to be 13 years old, and entering high school, Valentina allowed me to shop for groceries at the mini market across from our apartment. The store owner, a kind old asian man, would greet me with his toothless smile and remark about how I reminded him of his daughter who too was as helpful as me. His accent was pretty strong but he enjoyed that I was attentive in our small conversations and asked for clarifications when I couldn’t understand a word he said. When I had time, I would cook with Valentina, who taught me how to handle a knife and cook by “feel”, and clean the place up to give it a more spiffy and lively appearance. One day, she brought home buckets of paint and brushes and paused to envision what the walls could wear before nodding her head in agreement, "Let's give this place the remodel it deserves. Make it feel a bit homier." The apartment metamorphosized into something beautiful. It was simple paint job but the walls glowed with the colors of sunflower yellow, bubblegum pink, baby blue, and snow white. We had a bond that grew stronger and stronger and one day I accidentally slipped up and called Valentina mom. I tried to take it back but she accepted it as a token and commented, "(Phew) I may as well be," before hugging me and kissing me on the forehead.

    Valentina also began to reveal more and more about herself to me. She would tell me things she saw was fitting for my age (as if the ones about rape and violence in the past were not bad at all) and, interestingly enough, she started to talk about her love life. Valentina abandoned her family for a guy whose love blazed like the wick of a wax-candle. "It's kinda funny because he sits there," she points in the closet where she dumped her belongings," somewhere in that pile o' junk." Once upon a time, she was a damsel who wore the beauty of night itself solely for the attention of a mere mortal who brought a torch to her lovely being. She dressed nicely only for a man named Gabriel and told me how he wooed her in his confession made by a series of handwritten signs. During one of her nightly walks, Valentina noticed a bunch of Gabriel’s life-less messengers muttering one word respectively; each pieced together a part of a sentence that read, “Val. I. Have. Something. Important. To. Tell. You.” Valentina followed the line of cardboard words until they presented her to a man who silently sat on a bench under the rays artificial lighting, waiting for his love to appear before him as she did in his sea of dreams. Gabriel basked in the blinding light, making a prayer to God before looking down to face his lover whose charm brought him strength to approach her, fall on his knees, and make a gesture for marriage. "We did a lot together. So, so, so much. I still hold onto our love. My love for him. It's like a ball of yarn. No matter how much string I let go throughout my life, I still manage to hold onto our ball of yarn. A ball of memories. Of him. Of us (phew)."

    It was surprising to see another dimension of her character. Valentina had the countenance of a Roman stoic and never expressed vulnerability up until that point. She couldn't maintain a straight face when she poured out her thoughts of Gabriel; his imaginary face prompted her impish smile to reappear and she ruminated out of bashful glee while she blindly forked for the spaghetti we made. "Whatever," she shrugged. She seemed to be a little bit out of breath. The love Valentina and Gabriel had was pure but ephemeral as their resolve for one another was proven terse in the face of financial hardship. When the economic recession of 2007 arrived, they officially broke off as they could no longer sustain themselves appropriately and their unending arguments and discord left them brittle for an eventual snap on their freezing relationship. "No money, no honey I guess (phew)."

    It was surprising to see another dimension of her character. Valentina had the face of a Roman stoic and never expressed vulnerability up until that point. She couldn't maintain a straight face when she poured out her thoughts of Gabriel; his imaginary face prompted her impish smile to reappear and she ruminated out of bashful glee while she blindly forked for the spaghetti we made. "Whatever," she shrugged. She seemed to be a little bit out of breath. The love Valentina and Gabriel had was pure but ephemeral as their resolve for one another was proven terse in the face of financial hardship. When the economic recession of 2007 stormed in, they officially broke off as they could no longer sustain themselves appropriately and their unending arguments left them brittle for an eventual snap on their freezing relationship. "No money, no honey I guess (phew)."

    I too had some things to say regarding the nature of that kind of love. Through my pre-teen years, I loathed these strong tides of loneliness that hit me and I felt my girlhood gasping for a sweeter air. The flowers within my flower bed started to bloom and all critters came to buzz during my personal sprouting. I was lonely in a romantic sense and I wanted Valentina to stop me from free falling into this strangely pleasant territory. "Hey, keep your hormones in check. I swear to God, if you get a kid after high school, I am disowning you," she said smoking another roll near the window. I couldn't help these feelings. But they were suppressed quite easily as there were no guys in my school who I fancied. All because they were disgusting, rude, and jerks and they could all die for all I cared. But I couldn't help but fantasize of what my life could have been in the arms of another.

    In my senior year, we celebrated my birthday for the first time. She brought home a small cake with intricate designs on an October evening. It sat deliciously on the marble table and to my surprise, Valentina took a day off, something she never did whether she was tired or really sick. She tried to hide a secret that laid within the house with her cool facade but it was useless as the wide attentiveness, a strange weakness, in her eyes gave it away. "I got somethin' to show ya." She led me to my room and there sat an old bulky Microsoft computer on my small table. "Mr. Gates is a pretty smart man," she remarked as she patted the dusty monitor, "Shame I could only get you his most ancient product. It was cheap so (phew)." She told me how to use it, according to the guy from the dying television and electronics store instructed. I already knew how to use computers. At my school, actually, the models were old as well but, in comparison to my dug up fossil, shined like a new polished silver spoon. The only change it brought was that I could type my essays out, something my teachers most definitely preferred, and work on college applications online. Speaking of applications...

    I got accepted into the University of California, Berkeley. I was nearing the end of my High School years and I seemed to attract the attention of a pretty good school with my seemingly-natural efforts. I didn’t expect to get entrance. When Valentina heard the news, she shrieked and wobbled with joy, "Oh happy day, oh happy day!" The work we both put into each other paid off. And all there was left to do was hold a two-man party at a Chinese restaurant. We usually didn’t go out to eat, as it was expensive, but Valentina really wanted to treat me for my personal changes and my tolerance of all that had happen. We ordered a lot of food but she refused to eat. "Ada hon, I-I really can't eat at all today. Go on and enjoy," she said with a falling smile. Her eyes gleamed with a greyer tone. Her posture was more off than usual. And she was trembling since we walked in through the entrance to our assigned seats. Her whispering convulsions caught the attention of lookerbyers and I grew concerned as I took a short sip of water. And then her head started rocking to a moribund song and she faintly gasped, "Ada hon I-" her words trailed off before she began to wheeze uncontrollably, slumping down, and eventually hit the red carpeted floor. Ventilation started to fail. The next day, my life began its next phase. The Winter solstice finally arrived and the light of day shortened by the closing shades of night.