Growing up in a small house as part of a large family means one thing: never any time alone. There is always some sibling in your business, some person taking you on for that last fish stick. Solitude and silence become the things you pray for at night, forget world peace in your whispered requests — it’s a piece of time to yourself that you want.

When I was eight years old, I saw a chance to be alone and took it. Blinded by the too good to be true opportunity to be somewhere with no one else around, I stepped through that open door and went for it. Literally.

My grandmother was giving lunch to my two younger siblings. My three older siblings were out grocery shopping with my mother. I was alone in the hallway, and I — for the first time ever –  noticed the bathroom skeleton key sticking out of the keyhole. How had I never seen this? I could be in the bathroom, alone, I thought. I just have to turn that key and take snacks in with me that I don’t have to share. I can take in the crayons and not have to fight anyone for the black everyone wants. [Read more...]