Adopted by The Sidemen

Introduction

"Lily!"

That was the last thing I heard before the roof of the house collapsed, knocking the breath out of me. I wasn't inside, I was outside but I knew that at least two of my family members were inside, namely my parents.

By the time the fire fighters and police got there most of the house was nothing more than ash and dust, the smoke choking me so badly I couldn't breathe. It wasn't long after the police arrived before I felt arms around my waist and I was lifted into an ambulance, my head still turned to the wreck of my once beautiful house with tears in my eyes.

I had known my parents were still in there, I had seen their shadows in the upstairs window, yelling and screaming for help, but where was my brother? Where was mouse?

Although he was 7 years older than me, at 14, we called him mouse because of his quiet manner and small stature, even though I wasn't much better being several inches shorter than most girls my age.

"Mouse? Where's mouse?" I was panicking, I wanted my brother.

"He's okay sweetheart, he's going to hospital too."

"I want to see him." I was stubborn and even though I was hurt, with parts of my clothing burnt away, leaving a horrific stinging pain, I wanted to see him.

"You'll see him later okay, we need to get you to hospital." He said, pushing me away from the smouldering wreckage.

He lied.

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At 14-years-old not much had changed, I was still stubborn, loud, out there, and I still wanted to see my brother. I'd been in the home of my adopted parents pretty much as long as I could remember and for the most part, I had hated it because it made me feel like I was unwanted- I wasn't their biological child, so they didn't care. At 11 I had finally been kicked out of their house and that was how I ended up in a home.

I was 7-years-old when my parents died in the fire that burnt the house I had lived in since birth to the ground. My brother and I were scared, no home, no family left, nothing was left, all the previous memories of now dead relatives and good times destroyed overnight.

The fire left me with burns on my thighs and lower stomach and several small burns on my upper arms. I never wore shorts so quite a few people thought I self-harmed but it mostly because my self-esteem was horribly low and I didn't have the courage to show my scars. It was kind of hard to be a 14-year-old with horrific scars so it was easier to pretend they weren't there.

I was born in London and when my parents died my brother and I were moved from foster home to foster home for about 6 months before a set of parents adopted me- the parents that would eventually kick me out. At the time I thought they were really nice, and they had what it took to raise a child sick with trauma. Well, turns out they didn't.

But what I didn't know was that they lived in New Zealand and I had to go with them.

My brother was left behind, still in foster homes and with no safe home. I had no way to contact him and I still don't. Most of what I remember about him was that he was caring, he would do anything to protect me and in primary school, when I was being bullied for being small, he was almost ended up being expelled for punching someone. He had never exactly been tall, especially compared to some of the others in his year and neither had I, but he went even further to protect me than anyone else I'd ever known. I loved him for it.

Even though I loved him so much, I called him mouse so much throughout my childhood I barely remembered his real name, first or last, although if he was adopted into another family the last name wouldn't even matter anymore.

As for the home I ended up in, the children at the home had a physical disability or a mental disability, the home specifically being for those with disabilities. It was equipped with everything to care for those who were disabled, otherwise they would be sent to live in a foster home with a parent who was able to cope. When I say able to cope I mean someone who isn't a complete idiot and an utter trash can.

I was one of the oldest 'children' there and one of the only ones without a serious disability, so I helped out whereever I can, cooking, cleaning, looking after the youngest kids.. The burns did affect me in some ways like my ability to walk and jump, but they don't make anything too difficult. I did my best to help when I could because quite often the caretakers didn't have enough hands and too many children. They're so sweet and I loved being with them because it made me feel like I'm at home, the home I no longer have.

I was hoping that I'd be able to get in contact with him, my brother, one day, but because I was probably in a different country and I didn't have any way to contact him without adoption records.

But through a series of seemingly random and sometimes rather painful events, I finally found him.