This was the first short story I wrote. It was an English assignment in 08. Im proud of this story, and I would love your feedback!
| It was raining the day I died. Ok, well no it wasn’t, but it was raining the day I found out I was adopted. It seemed to start as soon as I read the letter. Apparently nobody wanted me to know I was adopted, but it’s not like they did anything to really hide it. I mean if I had really wanted to I could have easily found out. But why would anyone in their right mind think, ‘I think I will snoop around today, maybe find out I was adopted!’ So I guess if I had wanted to, I could have found it. It was right in with some of my dad’s papers. It kind of just, well, fell out at me. But now that it was there, I guess I had to know more, yet I had a feeling my dad wasn’t going to tell me much, based on the amount of information I had been given the past fifteen years; and with that I ruled out my mom and the rest of my family. I guess I was on my own this time. But let me go back for you. Not too far, just back to April 29, 2005, the beginning of my fifteenth birthday. That’s when my life changed as I know it.
“Good morning pumpkin,” my dad kissed me on the forehead as I stumbled sleepily into the Carolina room “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you, daddy.” I returned his affection, yawning, as I collapsed onto the bright red, oversized chair, turning the TV on to the weather station. It was habit to wake up to dad working on the computer, plopping into the oversized chair, and checking the weather.
“Don’t you think you should get a move on?” dad said pointing out the time. By this time it was now about 7:00 AM. I knew I had to start getting ready. Normally dad would take me to school at about 8:00, so usually I would have had more time. But that day dad was letting me walk to school with my friend Cassie. I knew she would be by about quarter of, so I had to rush a bit to get around.
As I was getting out of the shower, I heard my dad shout into me, “Katie, can you do me a favor when you get a chance?”
“Sure daddy, I’ll be out in a minute.” I hurried to get dressed in my knee length black skirt, black and white shirt, with the word ‘ANGEL’ printed in pink lettering. I threw on a pair of missed-matched socks, one blue and one purple, my white sneakers and some missed-matched jewelry. I fixed my hair into long curls, put on some make-up and walked back into the Carolina room, where dad still sat on the computer. He always did this, he would get to comfortable at the computer that he would have me stop what I was doing to get him something he was too lazy to get himself. “Yeah, daddy?”
“Would you mind going into the ‘ordered’ box in the storage room and grab me the folder right on top?” I agreed and walked into the room at the back of the house. This room was full of boxes, since we had just moved into this house. In fact, we had just moved into South Carolina just months before. Needless to say, this in particular box wasn’t going to be the easiest to find along with the rest of the unpacked boxes, but knowing my dad and his own unique system, I was able to find it within a few minutes. As I opened the box and grabbed the folder, I noticed a folded sheet of paper gently floating to the ground. I put the lid back on the box and picked up the paper. I unfolded the paper and that’s when it began to rain. I began to read:
April 29th, 1990
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Cornwell
I hope all is well. I trust Katelin is well. It has been one whole year since I have seen her. I have no regrets as to my decision. And I trust you will not tell her about our arrangement.
Attached is a little something for her first birthday. I hope it is ok, it’s not much but I hope it will do. I hope it fits her. I have not seen her in a year so I do not know what size she is now. Also Attached is a savings bond from my father. He was not happy with the arrangement, as you probably know, and he wants her to have something to know him by. But again, please keep our agreement in mind when she is older and you give this to her.
Please do not expect this every year. I only wanted to know I gave her something since she was my daughter.
If you have any questions or need anything important, you may call. You have my home phone number and you have the number to the office.
Please DO NOT leave this letter in any place she may be able to get to it. Best bet would be to burn it.
What was this? Was it really what I thought it was, or was somebody trying to play some sort of cruel joke on me? Was I really adopted? And why didn’t anyone tell me, and why didn’t this Suzan woman want me to know anything? All these questions and more had begun to race through my mind. I hadn’t heard the doorbell ring, and if it hadn’t been for my dad’s huge footsteps coming towards the storage room, I probably would have been standing there for hours. I quickly folded the letter and shoved it into my pocket and grabbed the folder just as my dad was entering the room.
“Hay, you find that folder yet? Cassie is here, you’re going to be late for school of you don’t get a move on.” My dad said.
“Here you go, daddy.” I replied almost shoving the folder at him. “Well, I better be going. Love you, be back later!” And with that I rushed past my dad, grabbed my book bag and met Cassie on the front porch. I had been right about the weather. It was only 8:00 AM and it was already about sixty-five degrees. It would have been a perfect birthday, had my mind not been on the letter all day.
I went through my day as normal, just trying not to let this letter distract me from my work too much. I had made it until lunch when my friends noticed my mind wasn’t on the chicken patty, (my favorite lunch), sitting on my tray.
“Alright, girl, spill.” My friend Lisa demanded, “What’s going on with you? You’re not eating your lunch, and I know you love chicken patty day.” I tried to play it off like nothing was wrong, but she saw right through me, so I showed her and Cassie the letter I had found just hours before.
“Oh, wow,” Cassie said, in disbelief. “I knew something was wrong but I had no idea it was this bad.”
“What are you going to do? Have you talked to your dad or called your mom, anything?” Lisa asked, handing me back the letter.
“No, I haven’t talked to anyone. I just found it this morning, just before you got to my house this morning,” I said to Cassie. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I was thinking about trying to get a hold of Suzan, but I don’t know. But I don’t want to tell my dad I know yet, not until I know why they never told me. Plus, if I do find her, when will I be able to see her, and how.”
“We’ll help you!” Cassie and Lisa said together.
“This will be fun,” Cassie tried reassuring me.
“Well, spring break is coming up soon; if you find out where she is we can take a road trip to see her.” Lisa added.
So I agreed to try to find this Suzan Randal. Lisa and Cassie both helped me look. We searched what felt like six thousand Randal’s. I thought I would never find her, even though I was under the impression that since we had her full name, it was going to be easy. But never the less, we found her, and just in time to. Spring break was now about a week and a half away. We got her information, (She only lived a couple hours away in Charleston, SC), I talked my dad into letting me go with Lisa and Cassie on a weekend ‘road trip’ and the next thing you know I am standing at the front door of a huge three story Victorian home. I was so nervous, what was I going to say? It would have been kind of easier if my friends had stayed, but I hadn’t thought about that until now, so they had gone to see another one of our friends who lived in the area. I was all alone, and had no way to back out now, so I rang the doorbell. A few seconds later I was face to face with a tall, well dressed business woman. There was no doubt she was my mother. We had the same long brown hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean. She must have known who I was immediately.
“Katelin.” Was all she said.
To make a long story short, (for the sake of time and paper), this visit did not end up at all how I expected it. I imagined sitting in her living room for hours talking and getting to know each other. I imagined her maybe having another kid or two. I imagined meeting my mom. But in all reality, we sat on her couch for about 45 minutes. I learned so much that I had never thought I would have to learn. I saw that she never had any more kids, but most of all I didn’t meet my mom. I met a woman, a business woman, who had gotten drunk at an office party, gotten pregnant, and gave the baby away at birth because she didn’t want it to ruin her perfect career. I was devastated, almost to the point to where I wish I hadn’t gone. I then heard my dad’s wisdom filled voice, “You miss one hundred percent of all the shots you don’t take.” Well, daddy, this was a shot I would not have minded missing.
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