There are millions of other dimensions besides this one. Some may be similar, while others are vastly different. There are also four different sets of gods who manage their respective groups of dimensions.
My name is Kina and I am 17 years old, and I currently live in Spanish Town, Jamaica . My family is poor, and we were recently kicked out of our home. Now we're living with one of my mother's friends. The place is what most people would call the ghetto we live in what they will call a family yard. Unfortunately, the family doesn't like my mom very much. Arguments break out almost every day, and sometimes they're directed at me and my family.
After four years, we finally moved out and rented a house. My mom's friend promised to help pay the rent, though sometimes he didn't. My family consists of my older brother, Rayner, and my mother, May. My brother has a job, but it's not enough to fully support us or cover the rent. There were times when our electricity was cut off, and even our water. Two years have passed, and now the landlord is threatening to give us an eviction notice.
Now I am 20 years old and searching for work, but without success. One day, while passing by a preschool, I heard a little girl shout, "Mommy! Mommy!" She came running toward me. I turned around, but no one else was there. Suddenly, the little girl hugged me tightly.
Just then, a car pulled up to the curb, and an good-looking man stepped out. The girl turned to him and said, "Daddy, Mom is here."
I looked at the man, completely puzzled. He asked, "Patricia, what are you doing calling this stranger your mom?"
"But Daddy, she is my mom. She finally came to pick me up," the girl replied.
The man sighed and said, "I'm really sorry about this. I think it's because of me that she acts this way."
"It's fine," I replied.
The man then tried to pry her off my leg. Either he was weak, or she was unusually strong, because she just wouldn't let go.
"Hmm, how about this? Why don't I get her number so you can spend time with her if she agrees?" the man asked his daughter.
"Yes, let's!" Patricia said with a big smile.
"I know we just met," the man said, turning to me, "but could I have your phone number? I promise I'm not a creepy person or anything."
If this wasn't the definition of a setup, I don't know what is. I was skeptical, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to give him my number, so I did.
After that, we started texting and calling each other occasionally. We talked about simple things like our favorite foods, little bits of our daily lives. A few months later, he asked if I could watch Patricia until he came back from work. He offered to pay me, and I agreed. That's how I ended up with a job babysitting the little girl named Patricia Price for her father, Patrick Price.
Our meeting still felt strange to me, but I don't regret it one bit. On my first day babysitting her, she was an absolute angel! She sat quietly and watched TV, and she always used polite words like "please," "thank you," and "may I." She even asked, "Do you want me to help with the cleaning?"
I had to wonder if I let her clean and wash dishes, would that count as child labor. By the way, did I mention she was only three years old. And I must say she is very smart for her age. The only thing is, she kept calling me "Mommy." I didn't really mind, though.
When night came—9 p.m. sharp—her father came to pick her up. Is it wrong that I wished she was really my daughter? It had only been one day, and I was already getting attached to her.
Three months passed with me babysitting this beautiful angel (and excellent little cleaning robot).
To be continued.