It's Saturday and I decided that it's time to say all the words I've been thinking.
"Dad, we need to talk."
I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and he comes into my room rather silently and sits in an old wooden rocker chair that I love. It helps me to fall asleep.
"I get it." I say. "You were young and you didn't want to raise me alone because my ma was gonna leave you afterwards right?"
"That's.." He try's to chime in.
"Let me finish." I say and I continue, "You decided now that it was time I could be more independent and it would be easier to take care of me now. I know your my real dad and ma is still out there somewhere." With that I give him a hug.
"You have a good imagination and parts of it are right but that's not how the whole story went." Says my Dad.
He begins to tell me the story I'm sure only a few people know about.
"Your mother was very beautiful. We married and decided to start a family. 9 months later she was giving birth to you and after she had you she begin to black out and her heart rate was not very steady. You were born a perfectly heathy baby, crying away. The doctor rushed to try and help your ma. They got her heart rate steady but the doctor said that there was still a chance that it would all happen again." He pauses and looks at me.
"It's okay." I say and he continues.
"Everything happened again, the black outs the heart rate unsteady. The next day she was gone. She never even held you in her arms. The doctor asked if I had any name for you yet since your mother and I were still undecided. I looked at you and sadly said, 'Saylene'"
"My moms name." I say rather quietly and my dad just nods.
"You were to scared to take care of me alone, so you put me up for adoption, you now decided to take on the challenge of me." I say quietly. My father nods. "It's okay." I say and we stay there in silence thinking over what happened until my dad heads out of my room and goes back downstairs.
I quickly jump up and find my journal on my nightstand. I grab it and sit in the rocker that stays in the corner of my room out looking the window. I sit down and begin to write. I write everything I'm feeling right now. I write every question about my mom and my dad that I could ever think about.
I write until my hand hurts from my gripping of the pen.
YOU ARE READING
Discovering Me
Teen FictionWhen Saylene (shay • lean) Shabers (sham • bers) is put in a foster home at a young age she doesn't remember her birth mother. When her foster father adopts her at the age of 12, Saylene thinks she's living a normal life but when she discovers a se...
