Adopted

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

This story shows that the relations of the heart are more important than the blood ones.

I was a happy, content 14-year-old. I had everything, a huge mansion, a lovely cat and most importantly my beloved parents. They were my heart and my soul. People need oxygen to stay alive but I needed my parents to breathe. All was well before that dreadful truth that came in front of me.

 

It was a normal day. A light breeze was in the air and I was standing in my balcony. It was the first week of summer holidays. My family had made up a plan to go to Thailand for two weeks in the second week of my holidays. I was very excited. I was thinking about it when I remembered I did not know the time of our flight. I ran towards my parent’s room. My father was there too as it was Sunday. I stopped outside the door and was about to knock when I realized the door was open a friction. I was going to step in when I heard my name. I got curious and stopped to listen. I knew eavesdropping came in bad etiquettes but I couldn't help myself. 

'' Don't you think we should tell Emily the truth???" My mother was asking my dad. The truth? I thought to myself."Yes, besides we even promised ourselves that the day she turns 14 we will tell her the truth. But I shudder to think what will happen to our beloved daughter when she gets to know the truth." My father sighed sadly. He was clearly depressed. That look in his eyes whenever he was depressed, was evident to even me though I was standing so far. I got scared and perplexed. I knocked on their door and went inside. They were astonished to see me. "Mom, Dad tell me whatever you are hiding from me." I directly asked them far too curious to get into formalities. My parents guessed that too. And what they told me made the earth slip from beneath my feet.

 

"You are adopted Emily." The words of my father ran through my head again and again. And then I realized that he was not my father. Neither was my mother my real mother. This thought made me cry. I cried hysterically all night and gradually slept wishing this would all be a dream. But alas, it wasn't. I woke up to a bright morning. Bright for the world, dull for me. My world had ended. My parents whom I loved so much were not my parents. And now, it was time to get some answers.

 

"Mom I want to know where my real parents are." I barged into her room. She was crying silently. My heart yearned to comfort her, to wipe her tears and to tell her that everything was okay. If only it was. She wiped her tears and hesitated a little. Then she told me that my birth parents had died. And they were my adopted parent’s family friends. As they didn't have a child, my birth parents had given my responsibility to them before dying. I was stunned to hear this. My real parents had died when I was a month old. I wouldn't see them. That meant I was all alone in the world.

 

After a few days, I realized that I was not alone. My birth parents had died but my adopted parents hadn't. They loved me like I was their own daughter. In the past 14 years they hadn't made me feel like I was an outsider, like I wasn't their daughter. They had loved me unconditionally. And I was making them cry. Every tear dropping from their eyes pierced my heart and broke it into a million pieces. The guilt was there too because they had loved me, gave me everything I wanted and I was repaying that debt by hurting them??

And I realized something else too that heart relations were much stronger than the blood ones. My birth parents had died but my adopted parents never stopped loving me even though I wasn't their daughter. With this thought in my mind, I promised myself that I would always keep my parents happy. 

 


Submitted: October 06, 2014

© Copyright 2021 Zainab Atique. All rights reserved.

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