Jess looked up at the night sky so full of stars, wondering if she would ever have an answer.  Why did everyone she trusted seem hell-bent on convincing her of her worthlessness?  Averting her gaze, she swore at her shoes.  The most recent soul-crushing episode had been with her biological father, who told her earlier tonight that he was "severely pissed" when he heard he was going to be a father. 

Flooded with rage, she shook her fists at the sky, screaming, "Why was I born?  Answer me!"  She broke down in tears and cried for an hour, but soon a new feeling overtook her.  It wasn’t anger, or even sadness.  It was an ache.  Deep in her soul, in her bones.  She didn’t know why, or for what.  But she ached. 

Now calm, she asked again, “Why am I here?”  Despite the darkness, Jess felt a light coming over her, softening the pain.  She would say years later she was sure she heard a whisper, “You’re here because I made you.”  That was it.  She begged for more, but there would be no more.  But it was enough.  Someone had made her, someone wanted her.  It was enough.

© 2008 Kevin Bobrow. Original for CCF. (Bobrow grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).