Everything I wanted

Chapter one

Last night, I dreamt that I was flying over the trees. When I put my hands up, I could touch the clouds. I was free in a way I had never been before. I felt at peace for the first time in my life. Then, a loud ringing pulled me from my slumber. Suddenly, I was back to laying on a thin, rickety mattress in a big, dark room. I rolled over tiredly, turning off my alarm. I shut my eyes again, pulling my flimsy blanket over my head. Just when I was about to drift back to sleep, the light turns on and a booming voice fills the room.

"Come on, girls, wake up! You all should know the drill by now, let's go! No sleeping in on weekdays!" I hear groaning echoing through the room, and with a sigh, I slide out of my bed. About three dozen girls do the same thing, grumbling complaints as they reach for their dressers. Yes, you read that right. About three dozen people live in this building, and that's not even counting all the boys that live across the hall from the girls. I have lived in an orphanage all my life, and I've never been in an actual house for more than a month. I have been in more than 130 foster homes in my entire life, and all of them eventually sent me back. I'm sure I'll never get adopted, especially not now. I'm 17, and no one wants to adopt a 17-year-old girl. The only kids that ever get adopted are the younger ones. So that meant that I had to live here until I was a legal adult.
I turn around and get dressed, staring blankly at the wall. My eyes were droopy, and I was sure I had bed-head, but I didn't really care. I used to try to dress up, confident that if I did so, maybe I would get adopted. I lost all hope a long time ago, and eventually stopped trying altogether. Besides, it wasn't my job to impress the foster parents.

However, I saw it was my responsibility to help the other kids get adopted. I persuaded them to say "Hi," to the foster parents, and I made sure they looked as adorable as humanly possible. I might never get adopted, but these kids at least deserve a chance. I never got one, not even when I was young. It wasn't that I was a bad child, but I was a bit of an oddball. Still am. I've never quite fit in, and never felt normal.

That's probably because I'm not.

For as long as I can remember, I've been able to do things others can't. Strange things. I didn't know anything about my abilities except this: I could never tell anyone. The moment I had realized that I was different from everyone else, I had tried to seem as normal as possible. Unfortunately, I had a pretty unusual appearance. I was born with white hair, pale skin, and possibly the lightest blue eyes anyone had ever seen. I had been teased by other kids in the orphanage my entire life, being called things such as, "albino girl." My skin is paper white. I had no freckles, no birthmarks, and no visible blue veins. My skin didn't tan, and didn't get sunburned. I always stood out, especially in the summer. Maybe if I looked even halfway normal, I would have been adopted as a child. No such luck. (No, but personally, I find albinos gorgeous. We gotta have some insecurities though. 😭)

I was a freak. I was a weirdo. Why would anyone want to adopt a girl like me?  I had lost all hope of ever having a family. I would never be seen as anything more than I already was. A worthless orphan.

I never understood why I had to be so different. As far as I knew, there wasn't a single soul out there that was like me. No wonder why my biological parents dropped me off on a doorstep, no older than a day. I didn't know what I was, but I sure wasn't human. I knew that deep down, even if I didn't truly ever admit it to myself. I mean, if I wasn't human, what was I? An alien? That's what people would think, if I were to tell them about my abilities. That's why I felt it was so important to keep it a secret. I didn't want to be in a lab, or a cage, treated as an experiment. I wanted to be normal. That's all I'd ever wanted. I didn't want these abilities, or these albino-like features. I wanted to be like everyone else; but I wasn't. As much as I tried to hide it, everyone knew it. I wasn't like everyone else, and I never would be.
On bad days, I tried to think of it in a positive light. I was special, unique. But that's not what everyone else sees. I couldn't exactly blame them, though, even if I wanted to. In fact, I did want to. I wanted to be enraged at people for how they treated me. I wanted to fight back, stand up to them, and tell them that they were wrong. But they weren't. Everything they said about me was true, even if I didn't want it to be. As many times as I wished for things to change, I knew deep down that they never would. That didn't keep me from trying; trying to be normal.