Uncover

5

A/N Please be amazing and vote if you like this! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate every person who's reading this! You guys are awesome! Also check out the sky Sloane describes in the media box.

My mind reeled from what Anwar just told me and I’m ashamed to admit it, but at that moment instinct overcame logic.  My arm moved blindingly fast and I hit him in the stomach with a hammer fist punch.

Seething with anger at the things he knew that I didn’t, I jumped out of the car, and slammed the door so hard that the lopsided mirror gave way and fell on the asphalt with a final thud. 

 Stupid, stupid, stupid I thought to myself as hot, salty tears of anger and confusion splashed down my face in rapid procession . I am so stupid. 

Stupid for trusting.

Stupid for thinking that Anwar had always been honest. 

So completely stupid for believing the people who raised me saying that they knew nothing of the whereabouts of my dad. 

 My dad. My father.

 Even thinking the words were strange.  I had never had a father or a mother.  I was raised by the leaders of the organization.  They had always made sure we were safe physically. We had food. We were taken to the top doctors if we got sick or if we broke any bones completing any of the training tasks they set up for us to do.

 But taking care of us on the inside, that was another story.  We were treated like adults at a very young age.  Bedtime stories and hugs had no place in our childhood…

 I remember this tiny blonde girl, Karen.  She broke her ankle on a stealth mission one day when she was just about seven. Our mission leader made a frantic flurry of phone calls, ensuring that she got treated right away by the most reliable doctors who specialized in Karen’s type of injury.  Karen was given the best medical care, the most expensive treatment for her ankle.  It healed perfectly.

 But the thing I remember most, was that when Karen fell down and her big, dark, eyes filled with tears, she held out her arms as if she was demanding comfort from the people around her.   Our mission leader didn’t even notice.

 But I did.

 I knew deep down that right then Karen needed someone by her side.  And even though I had never seen this done before, a maternal instinct took over and I rushed to her side. I held her close and whispered “Karen…sweetie….you’re going to be okay”, again and again, as I stroked her hair.  She turned into me and I felt her sobs rack through her body and into mine.  I felt that by holding her I was transferring some of her pain into mine.

 But that was an exception.  In general, we were taught by calculating, cunning, aggressive people, to be calculating, cunning, and aggressive. We learnt by example. And we earned their approval.

 But in all the ways I had ever doubted the people who raised me, I never once imagined that they were deliberately hiding my father’s existence.  My leaders were tricky and manipulative, but never cruel.

And taking a little girl away from her father is cruel.