I lifted the frame gently from my shelf and stared at the photograph. It was a photo of me and my family taken last summer in the Maldives, I would do anything to go back. We were wearing our bright swim suits ready to jump onto the cool light blue sea, which was so blue you could see your own feet inside the water. I remember the sensation of splashing into the shimmering water, refreshing our bodies from the blinding heat of the sun. It was paradise; so warm, peaceful and calming. The relaxing spa which always smelt like cinnamon, our own private pool which faced the vast ocean, the posh restaurants which served divine sea food and the exciting water rides which were so much fun.
I snapped back into reality, looking out at my window with corners covered in a thick layer of snow. Yes, I was definitely back home. I glanced back at he photo this time looking at the people in the photo there was my mum laughing and my dad smiling at her and me and my sister arguing about who dibs the hot waiter first. I loved my crazy family.
Although I have long black thick hair and they have light blond hair; and I have dark eyes and long black eye lashes, and they all have green eyes or the fact that they have fair skin and I have olive/tanned skin they still love me like I'm biologically related to them. I was adopted at the age of four so I basically lived my whole life with them, my sister was only two when I came along, we are just like any other sisters. Despite the fact I don't remember anything about my biological family, I do however always knew that I was adopted, it wasn't like the movies when the kid finds out when they are a teenager and gets mad at their parents from hiding it from them, I just always knew. So did all of my friends. I know your probably asking yourself what about her biological parents or "real" parents most people say, the truth is I don't know and frankly I don't care. Why should I care about the people who didn't care enough about their own daughter and threw her in an orphanage even when she wasn't an orphan at the age of two. Like who does that no matter what the circumstances are. They haven't even asked how I was or if I got adopted, I could be dead and they wouldn't even know. So there's the answer to all those people who ask me the same question. Don't get me wrong of course it crosses my mind but whenever it does I just thank God that I was adopted by a loving family at a young age. God knows where I would be know if I wasn't.
As I put the frame back onto the shelf, my phone buzzes. It's Alex.
