The adventures of daisy

Whos your daddy

                      Age: 14
Momma has always talked about my dad. He was such a loving man who wanted me and promised to be there always, except he died in a car wreck when I was just a few months old. I have two half siblings; Sara and Kyle, but I'm not allowed to reach out to them. Momma takes me to visit dads grave and I always leave him something but it isn't fair that I can't meet the other kids or even talk to them. I've had enough of it. I find Kyle on Facebook and wrote him. He has no idea who I am, so I talk to momma.

"Hey mom, Kyle doesn't know who I am."

"Well how would you guess that? I'm sure he does." She replies.

"I messaged him. Hes never even heard of me."

"YOU WHAT???" Momma yells.
She grounds me and I'm no longer allowed to use her phone. I have my own Facebook but not a phone yet. She is in disbelief that I went behind her back and messaged him. How could I? It's selfish of me to confuse him like that.  I apologize to momma and tell her I won't do it again. It hurts, but I'm sure she has good intentions. New years is so close and our family always makes a New Year's resolution.
"Momma, for my New Year's resolution I want to meet my siblings."

Momma looks shocked. She doesn't say anything, but she doesn't have to. For some reason I know this is an impossible ask. But momma nods.

Momma is a kind woman with dark, short hair just below her ears. She has always had short hair as long as I can remember. Both of her arms and legs are coated in colorful watercolor tattoos, and a small rose on her neck. Momma doesn't like to start drama but she can definitely handle her own. She is fierce, and a flaming spitfire when she's angry. She has kind eyes and open arms, but she's easy to read if you know her. Momma doesn't cry. Not in front of the kids at least.

She comes home from the bar one night, and momma. Is. Hammered. I always take care of momma when she needs my help and tonight she wanted to talk.

"Come here, baby." She says while whimpering.

I sit in front of momma on the bed, and cross my legs ready to listen.

"Please don't hate me. Oh god you're gonna hate me. I've always tried to do what I thought was right." She blubbers in between sobs.
"Please try not to hate me.. you know how your new years wish is to meet Kyle?" She asks

I nod.

"Well... sissy he's not your brother. Rob isn't your dad. He was my best friend and he made me promise to never tell you. He was gonna raise you like his own and then he passed away. Your real dad, he has 5 kids and he's alive. Oh god I know you're gonna hate me. I'm so sorry for lying."

She's in a puddle. There's snot on her hand from wiping her nose and she's hiccuping from the mixture of crying and being intoxicated. She thinks I hate her.

But I don't.

I am hurt. I am angry. Im sad. But I could never hate momma. I guess I could see why she lied. A dead guy was a better dad that my real dad has ever been.

But I've spent hours and hours reading up on my two siblings. Learning about them, their husbands and wives, their children, their whole lives. From a distance. Only to be told that these people have no relevancy to me whatsoever, and there are 5 other siblings I have never met.

I comfort momma and put her to bed. My brain is buzzing. My heart is pounding what am I gonna do?

I get on Facebook and reach out to one of the girls. There are 4 girls and one boy. I end up finding the adopted one first and attempt to reach out. She blocks me.

Weird.

Why would she block me? I thought she would be excited to have another sibling. I end up leaving the whole situation alone and trying to just process it all for the next few weeks.

My birthday rolls around and nothing new has happened. I get off of the bus and walk in the house and my my sister blindfolds me. This is out of the ordinary for many reasons. In our family, you are only blindfolded on your birthday if it's something you've REALLLLLY been wanting or it's something extremely expensive. We don't have much money right now so I couldn't think of what it could possibly be. I don't ask for much or try not to at least.
My sister walks me into our living room

"There's a cowboy here for you." She whispers into my ear and only I heard her.
It was an inside joke since we were practically raised in the bar. Who doesn't love a cowboy? The blindfold is taken off of me and in front of me sits a young man who has similar features as I. We have the same nose, cheekbones, and smile. I know immediately. This is my other brother.