My hands are cold and clammy despite the hot afternoon sun beating down on me. I slam the car door releasing my tension. Breathing deeply, I approach the gray building looming over me. My aunt greets me, her face glowing with excitement. All eyes are on me as I enter the room. I collect some black foam chips and pass them out. One woman begs me to help her. In one instant, my life has become important. Numbers and letters are called, like a song in my ears as I point out sections of Bingo cards to the men and women. They wait with eager faces for the next number to be called. "Bingo!" a woman's voice booms. "Jane has Bingo!" She pointed to her friend who couldn't speak. Jane's soft brown eyes looked up at me when I rewarded her with a mug. She smiled to herself. fl
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.