The Pretty Little Redhead

Have you ever met someone and found that you cannot stop thinking about that person?  That’s the predicament I’m in right now.  I’ll be doing something, and my thoughts keep turning to her.  After more than a week of her being a squatter in my headspace, I think I’ve finally figured out why she’s always on my mind.  But let me give you some backstory before I continue.

When I wrote my book, picking out character names came quickly—especially my main character’s name, Erin—I named her after someone on one of my favorite television shows.  When I first “met” the show Erin, she got on my nerves.  She was not only overly bubbly but also so naïve for her age (25ish) that she was annoying.  Later in the show, when I found out she grew up in and out of foster care, my opinion of her completely changed.  Maybe she grew up purposely acting entirely too happy in order to fool herself into believing that she felt happy. Perhaps she was naïve because she’d had no friends as a kid.  I know she’s just a character in a television show, but I went from being annoyed by her to wanting to jump inside the television and give her a hug.  It’s funny how once you find out why people behave the way they do, your feelings about them can do an about-face. While my Erin’s life is entirely different from tv show Erin’s life, the name fits perfectly.

Last weekend is when I met the pretty little redhead who I can’t stop thinking about.  She was eating shaved ice, which, based on the red all over and (comically) around her lips, was obviously cherry or strawberry.  She was with another girl, and an older couple who I assumed were both girls’ parents or grandparents.  As I talked with her, I looked down and noticed a bunch of small cut marks on her arm; they were too precise and identical to be accidental. She had a sweet disposition, and although she didn’t appear to mind talking to me, she seemed shy.  During the conversation, I found out that the older couple were actually her foster parents.  You could tell that they adored the kids, and it seemed as if the feeling was mutual.  As they were walking away, someone I was with thanked the couple for being foster parents, to which the gentleman smiled and said, “They’re like our own.”

I thought about the cut marks on her arm.  I thought about what may have happened to her during her young life that caused her to end up in foster care… probably the same things that made her cut.  If you don’t know why teens cut, there’s a ton of information about it on the internet—it’s too much to type here, but one reason, in a nutshell, is that cutting is an attempt to deal with emotional pain. 

I can’t stop thinking about her and the marks on her arm.  I can’t stop wondering what that child has been through, and just like with Erin on the show, I want to hug her. I also want to hug her foster parents and thank them for bringing her into their family and trying to make her feel safe and loved. 

I finally realized today that the reason I can’t get her off my mind is that she reminds me of both my Erin and the show’s Erin.  Also, her foster parents interacted with her in a way that reminds me of how Gram and Pap interact with Erin, which was heartwarming.  It makes me happy that she is with people who care for her, but it makes me sad that there’s even a need for foster parents in this world. 

I doubt I’ll stop thinking about the pretty little redhead anytime soon… on the contrary, I have a feeling I’ll never forget her, and that’s okay.  Some people aren’t meant to be forgotten.