The Strength She Gave(Odelia Samara Younge) (Note that the author was 16 years old when she wrote this story.)

When you're younger your friends are your world. When you get older though, you realize how many of them you leave behind or forget. I was no different, but the summer that I turned eight was one I didn't forget. That summer my best friend was a girl named Nan. But Nan and I didn't meet for a long time.

That summer my mother and I moved into a tiny apartment after a long and terrible custody battle with my father. The man who called himself my father, even to this date, left my mother and me for another family. A family complete with a little boy my age. He told me it wasn't my fault and that he still loved me, but I knew. I knew the minute I saw that other boy that it was all over, and the apartment… the apartment felt like the beginning of the end.

My grandmother moved in with us to help out; or so she said. I knew that it was because my mother had become a walking hysteric, ready to burst out in tears and shrieks at any moment, since she'd found my father with the other woman. My mother gave me all the love she could, but she could never give me enough strength. I'd never ask her anyway. She needed to keep the little she had to make me feel safe. My grandmother-- she was a fortress. I guess fortresses aren't made to last through everything. Granny suffered a stroke and died. She died two weeks after my grandpa, and we buried her right next to him. I didn't go to the funeral, however. It was too much.

I became obsessed death after that. Whenever I played outside with the other children and they asked me a question I couldn't answer, I'd ask them why it mattered when we were all going to die someday anyway. When other new people moved in those other first weeks of summer I'd say I didn't' want to meet them because they were probably going to die soon. The other kids soon distanced themselves from me, and I became a loner. It was at this time that I began to wander throughout cemeteries and ride my bike to the morgue in the city. It wasn't all so much out of curiosity than out of fear.

I never told my mom about the places I went to or what I did. It wasn't that I thought I was doing something wrong, I just wasn't willing to share with her. I distanced myself from my mother more than anyone. I resented her when she allowed Vince to move in with us just a short time after grandma's departure.

Vince was my ten-year old cousin. His mom asked mine if we could care for Vince so that he wouldn't have to go to a foster home. My mother agreed. She agreed without asking me. You see, I loved Vince like he was my own brother, but Vince was a living nightmare. Vince was my living nightmare. He was dying. I refused to ever enter Vince's room to my mother's dismay and Vince's disappointment.

A couple of weeks into the summer brought us new neighbors. My mother made a gigantic welcome basket and asked me if I'd like to deliver it. I huddled into my room, still not ready to open up to my mother about my problems. She didn't ask, and the basket was delivered by her. Later when she tried to tell me about them I ran inside my room and hid under the covers.

One day my mother was out shopping, and I was left alone in the house with Vince. It was always very easy to avoid even the slightest encounter with Vince's open doorway, but today there was no mom and there was a hungry stomach. I had to eat, which meant I had to pass Vince's doorway. I crept slowly past his room successfully and made myself a sandwich. On the way back, however, I stumbled onto something sharp, and I cried out before I could stop myself. I heard the rustling noise of sheets and knew that I had awoken my nightmare.

"Judd, is that you?" Vince's weak voice called out. I thought to myself that if I did not move a muscle he would think it was just a noise.

"Judd, why don't you ever come see me?" he let out in a whimper.

Vince's question frightened me so much that I forgot about my statue plan and ran into the safe haven of my room. Before I got to my covers I heard a muffled noise coming from the other side of my bedroom wall. I knew that the next apartment lay beyond my wall and there abided the people I did not want to meet. But something drew me to that wall, and I've never figured out what it was.

When I got closer to the wall I was able to discern that the noise was crying. The spell that I was under had not broken yet, and I began to knock on the wall. Almost immediately the crying subsided, and someone began tapping back. The tapping became more steady and began to lead me to another point in the wall. When I got there I noticed a hole that I had been oblivious to before. I sat down on the floor near it and was shocked to hear a girl's voice calling over to me.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" said the loveliest voice I had ever heard. It had a crystal quality and an English accent. I was shaking uncontrollably at the thought of interacting even in vocals with another human being who wasn't my mother.
"I'm here," I replied in a steady voice that did not seem like mine.
"I'm Nan. I'm seven, and I live next door. Who are you?"
"I'm Judd. I just turned eight this summer. Why were you crying?"
It would have been so easy to stop after my name and move on with my life like nothing happened but something inside me really wanted this.
"You heard me?" the little voice inquired. "I… sometimes there's demons that come and torment me."
"Why?" I wondered.
"I don't know. Don't tell anyone Judd or they may come after you too."
"I won't. I promise." And I never broke that promise.

Nan and I began a steady meeting each day. Each day she would end the conversation by asking me if I wanted to play with her outside. Each day I had a new excuse. Those were not the only times I heard Nan. Almost every night I would go to bed to the sounds of awful and terrible things echoing out of Nan's room. I wasn't sure about what went on, but the sounds were always followed by Nan's heartbreaking tears. Sometimes while we were talking there would come a noise from Nan's side, and shed' tell me that the demons were coming and she'd better go. I never questioned Nan about her demons. I had my own.

A few weeks after our first talk, I began to open up about my fears and problems with Nan.
"Nan, would you like to know what I fear?"
"Yes, if you'd like to share," she replied.
"I fear to get too close to people because they're going to die. Vince is already dying."
"Judd?" she called.
"Yes."
"There are worse things than dying."

I wasn't all that sure about what she meant by that, but somehow I felt that I could trust Nan with my revelations. I began to tell her about all the trips to the morgue and all the other places. She told me I should tell my mother.
"But why?" I pondered back to her.
"Because she loves you."
"How can you tell?" I retorted.
"Because she's your mother," Nan replied in her matter-of-fact way.
"Does yours?"
"Of course. She did."
I was old enough at that time to know the past tense, and I did not dare pry into that region. I did, however, take Nan's advice about talking to my mother. I planned out the exact date that I wanted to tell her, but you can't set a date for opening your heart.

The day that it happened was one like any other that summer-- hot and humid. My scheduled date of revelation was three days from now, and Nan was helping me with the words. That day my mother came home early from work crying. I had seen my mother cry many times, but this time was different. This time I knew Nan.

I carefully approached my mother and asked her what was wrong.
"The doctor I work for lost another patient. I truly loved her. She was a great lady," my mother replied. I couldn't hold them in. I cried buckets, and I let them flow. It was not until I felt the warmth of my mother's arms around me that I realized just how long I had been holding them in, and I had to let them go.
"Mom?"
"Yes, Judd? Tell me…I'm listening."
"I'm scared of death. Grandma and Grandpa went away without saying goodbye. I've been going to the morgue and the cemetery, and…"
"It's okay, Judd," my mom replied. "It's going to be okay."
But there was more.
"Mom, you love me but how do I know you're not going to leave me soon too?"
My mother turned me to where I was looking directly at her and set me with a steady gaze.
"Judd, I'm going to exit this world just like everyone else one day. But I'll never leave you. I'm not going anywhere."

And with that I let down every last guard and continued to cry against my mother while I sobbed out every hurt inside me, and with every stroke of her hand one was eased, bringing me closer to her.

My mother and I became extremely close after this, and it would be nice to say that we never had disagreements, but we did. The main thing was that I had her, and she had me. There was still a matter of Vince and some other things. Just because I told my mother my fears didn't make them go away overnight.

Nan might have just been seven, but she was wise far beyond her years. Nan was so special to me, but every time I went to tell her, I couldn't find the words. We continued our daily sessions while summer turned late.

"Judd you need to," Nan said to me one day.
"Why?" I asked.
"You need to visit their graves. You need to talk to them and say goodbye."

Nan offered to come with me to visit my grandparents grave, but of course I declined. Instead I went with my mother that weekend. It felt good to say goodbye to them, and I think that wherever they are, they are happy.

My little game of making excuses to Nan was one I had become quite good at, but it was one that was just waiting to crumble--and crumble it did.

"Judd, why don't you ever want to come over and play?" Nan asked me late in the summer.
"I just can't that's all."
"Well, tell me when you can," she replied.
"Oh, I'm not sure about it."
"Wanna know what I think?" Nan asked. I was too scared to ask so I kept silent. I thought she had forgotten about it after a while had passed, but then her voice came back to me in a whisper.
"I think that you're scared to see me. Scared that once you do that it'll all end."

I ended the conversation. After that I went around acting mad. I fumed about Nan and how she could even suggest something like that about me. My mother asked me what was wrong, but I wouldn't tell her. For three days I went on like that. Then, on the third day I passed my mirror and when I saw my reflection, I broke down and cried. I cried for so long, and it wasn't about being mad at Nan about what she said. I was mad because she was right. I was terrified about seeing her in the flesh--scared that she would cease to be real.

With that revelation, I resumed conversation with Nan, and like a true friend she didn't bring it back up. She did bring something else up though. She told me something that made my heart ache.

"Judd, I'm moving," she said so simply. "We're leaving tomorrow."
I had no idea what to do or say. I just stayed silent. Nan broke the silence.
"Judd, if you're worried about the demons, don't be. They won't bother you."
I had to wonder at that. She was moving, but she still took the time to worry about me.

The next day came as quickly as any had ever come before. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to do anything. My whole body ached. My heart felt heavy. My mother got me up though. It was the best thing she ever did for me.

I heard the moving trucks outside and rushed outside in fear that I would be too late. Before I got there I heard a loud smack followed by a few sobs. I stepped outside onto the street corner and faced a scene I have framed in the back of my mind.

There was Nan. Nan was seven, just seven that summer, but already she looked old and beaten. She had large, dark circles under her eyes, and her face was gaunt and silhouetted by the marks of a hand. Nan's hair was thin and wispy. Her clothes were too small and dirty. Her eyes that I had imagined to be bright and sparkly looked sad and tired. She was too thin--too thin. Nan smiled slightly when she saw me, realizing instantly who I was, but my eyes had left her. They had wondered to the side of Nan and stared right into the eyes of Nan's demons. That's when I truly met Nan.

I had no time to say anything. Nan's parents took her and shoved her into the taxi. It was not before Nan could mouth to me one word. She told me hi. The taxi door shut, and although I've searched many times, that was the last time I saw her.

I stood there on the corner frozen for what seemed like years. When I finally did walk back into the apartment I did the first thing that came to my mind. I walked right into Vince's room, sat on the bed, and once we got past the regulars, I began to tell him all about my friend Nan while, outside, summer came to an end.

While I talked I realized that Nan was the best friend I had ever had. I couldn't save Nan from her demons, but she gave me the strength I needed to face mine. And although Vince died that winter, he died surrounded by love. It's something I still hold on to.

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