4:44

I was awake before the phone called out my name. It was 4:44 in the morning and the phone was calling my name. I knew that it could only be one person at this time in the morning. The same person who was creeping around in my dreams was haunting my reality. It was my sister--Anjanette Nicole Nicholson. Angie. Anj. Ms. America.

A call in the early morning hours is always a bad omen. It can generally only mean two things in my experience--someone is dead or in jail. The dream that I was having seconds prior to the phone ringing suggested to me that someone was dead or hurt. "What," is how I answered the phone. "Is mom up?" she asked. "No, what would she be doing up at this time? Are you in jail or something?" She told me that jail was not the reason that she was calling. She was calling because she had gone to the hospital near our home about a toothache. Apparently, they had given her some pretty strong drugs to help her pain. She said she wouldn't be able to make it back to her house in the condition she was in and that she wanted to know if she could drive the two blocks to our house and stay over. I was reluctant to let her come over because I was only days from returning to Duke for my senior year and had quite a bit of cash on hand. I didn't believe her reason for wanting to come over, but by now my mother was awake and allowed her to come.

She appeared at the door with paperwork from the hospital, so I let her in. She smelled of alcohol and cheap perfume. She was in a white, satin pair of pajamas. She and my mother began to argue about her drinking. My mother did not want my oldest nephew, who was 6 at the time, to see his mother in that condition. I listened to them argue while I made toast. The conclusion my mother and I came to was that I would drive my sister to her apartment after I finished my toast since I was already awake, but for some reason she didn't want to go. She began to cry and then she leaped out of my overstuffed recliner and ran out to her car.

I was compelled to follow.