Damien pulled out a lighter. "Say goodbye to your parents, girlie." He burned the sides with the lighter, tempting me, yet I didn't break down. "And you can say goodbye to your flash drive," I shot back, tossing it into the gutter. "You shouldn't have done that." He opened the book, and ripped out the first page. The once that had my parents' wedding picture on it. My mom was laughing as she smeared cake onto my dad's face. That was my favorite picture. He held the lighter beneath it. All he needed to do was flick it open and the picture would be enveloped in flames. The memory would be gone. He smiled, opening the lighter slowly. A tear ran down my face. Out of nowhere, a police car turned the corner roughly. The annoying sirens and flashing blue and red lights caused Damien to stumble and drop the lighter into the gutter. I smiled to myself. "Damien Jones, you are herby under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in court." A tall cop shouted, handcuffing Damien and his friends and locking him in the backseat of the squad car. The passenger door then opened, a frail old women stepping out. "Grandma!" I yelled. "How did you know I was here?" "I heard you on the phone last night," she said. "You came for me." I smiled gratefully. "Of course. You're just like your mother. I would do anything for you." And that is how my new life in American began. 28
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