This One's for Reyna

Sifting through trash on a cold Tuesday morning.
It's odd, because there I was thinking, "I am happy to be here today."

Most people would probably get grossed out throwing wet, muddy trash into a dumpster. Especially on a cold October morning. But not me. The stress in my neck was starting to loosen up. Sifting through frost covered boxes of personal belongings. A Tommy Hilfiger kids jacket and some Ralph Lauren Polo Jeans... "Throw those in the truck" my dad says, " They'll fit Mason." A note book here, a photo album there, a deck of cards, broken toys --- just random stuff you would expect a person to leave behind on a quick getaway.

My brain says to myself, "Who knows where they are at by now.... Mexico?"

I look at my dad, breaking up boards from the old dresser so they will fit into the dumpster and I think, "Someday, that will be me. I hope my son will understand that we have what we have because my dad suffered. Actually, it better be a daughter. It will have to be my daughter Emery that's out here cos Malorie will think its gross to be here in the ghetto."

Then I saw it.

A photo of a little girl. A little mexican girl, maybe 10 or 11 years old. She was wearing sun glasses and a shirt that said 'REYNA' in big silver letters. She was blowing a kiss to the camera. I was just about to launch it when I noticed the front of her shirt was tied in a knot as if to be stylish. And her shorts were REALLY short. And then I realized she was wearing heels.

I launched the picture into the box of trash I was filling and kept grabbing at the other trash lying on the ground. Another picture. Same girl. Same outfit. Only this time I realize she is not posing for her friend with a camera. She is not trying to act like a glamorous model and she is not wearing short shorts. Those short shorts are actually her panties and her legs are spread open on the couch with her finger pointed at her crotch. I heave it into the box and I feel a shiver run down my spine. And there are more pictures spread on the ground here. I am trying not to look at the images, but I know what is happening in these pictures.

There is some sick fuck behind the lens. He is telling this girl to pose in different positions and act like the horny housewife he wants. The housewife he has, but cannot please because he is a limp dick, needle fuck, punk bitch who is so wrapped up in himself that he is oblivious to the doors he is opening for this little girls mind. It could be his little sister, his niece, or god forbid even his own daughter. No matter who it is, I begin to get nauseous for this girl.

The last picture I hurried into the box was an image of little 'Reyna' opening a stove and seductively sliding in a tray of cookies perhaps....

I don't know who 'Reyna' is. I don't know how old she was then or is now. But I know that 'Reyna' is in my prayers. Every 'Reyna' is now in my prayers, because she didn't choose that, and yet she will have to reap those memories for the rest of her life.

I pray for her because when my daughters grow up, I want them to be safe. I want them to know that they are better than that. I want them to know they can trust a man.

But I don't know if I will ever have daughters. Because I don't know if I can keep them safe. And I don't know if they can trust a man.