I don't remember the time in my life when hopscotch stopped being my favorite game to play. I don't even remember the rules, only that there's boxes and hopping involved. I do remember that the thing that took up that space was music. Whenever my dad would turn on the radio, way back when I was younger, I'd listen like there was nothing else in the world. I didn't care what station, only that the voices kept on singing. Kept on being there for me, after the times my mom did drugs, or before the times my dad got drunk. Bruised or crying, I'd take the radio up to my room and listen to the sweet sounds of R&B, or the boom-baps of 80's rap. I guess you could say I treated my childhood like hopscotch, jumping from day to day, trying not to step out of drawn lines, hoping that I wouldn't trip and fall.

This is the story of what came after a storm washed away the chalk.