Chapter 4: Fallout

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Chapter 4: Fallout

I woke up to Brandon hovering over my bed, poking my stomach and laughing.

“WHAT THE HELL BRANDON!” I yelled startled.

“I thought it would be funny. You’re supposed to be awake.” He said coolly.

“What time is it?” I asked groggily.

“Its 10:30.” Brandon replied.

“Why are you in my bedroom?” I yelled while jumping out of bed wearing a pair of short pyjama shorts, and a huge shirt that covered them so it looked like I wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Not even caring what Brandon had to say I walked over to my closet and picked out an outfit for the day.

“Well I thought we could go to the music store, buy a bunch of crap and listen to it today.”

“Uh, sure,” I replied. “But couldn’t you have you know...text me?” I finished.

“That would have ruined me poking you to get you to wake up. Get your hot ass dressed and let’s go!” He said pushing me into my bathroom. I took a quick 10 minute shower, got dressed and pinned my hair up so it was out of my face.

“You know, some of these routines aren’t half bad Chrissie.” Brandon said while flipping through my routine journal.

“Thanks, I think.” I said, it got quiet for a minute as I was looking through my text messages on my phone. I didn’t get many, but Connor was one of those freak texters that text you everything they’re doing. Okay, well he’s not THAT bad, but he does text me a lot.

“Do you manage if I invite a friend to come with?” I asked Brandon.

“Is she hot?” He asked.

“And this is what I’m hanging out with right now?” I started, “Yes, he is very good looking.”

“He?”

“Yes, his name is Connor.”

“Damnit.”

It was silent while I awaited the reply of Connor. It took him a while to text back so I figured he was doing something and quickly text him that we were leaving and to meet us at Richie’s Music.

“Are you ready Brandon?” I asked while he quickly shut my journal, threw it on my bed and walked out of the room behind me.

The ride to the music store was quiet, and while we were in the music store we fought over genres of music, and when Connor showed up Brandon acted like a protective, obsessive, boyfriend.

We arrived back at the house and seen a women who looked like she was about 19 talking to Stephen. As we excited the car we heard the end of their conversation.

“But the DNA test proves it, and I want to see her!” She said.

“I’m sorry but they aren’t here Miss, you’re going to have to wait until the Young’s come back.” Stephen responded calmly as my father walked up.

“Oh here is Mr. Young now.” He said as the rest of us walked up. I took a look at the girl. She stood at around 5’5 and had long dark brown hair, her eyes were greenish blue and she was gorgeous. We looked alike in a lot of different ways, but I figured it was impossible.

“Christine?” She said looking directly passed my father to me.

“Y-yes” I stuttered, extremely confused. I hated these types of situations.

“Oh wow, you look just like her.” The girl responded.

“Like who?” I asked, already knowing the answer to my question.

“Mom,” she replied. “I’m sorry, I’m being extremely rude” she said quickly. “I’m Alexis Nelson, your sister.”

“That’s impossible, I’m an only child.” I replied.

“Mom had me when she was 16 and you when she was 19. She couldn’t handle me at 16, and gave me up for adoption shortly after. My fathers’ name was Gregory Johnson. When I was 8 this little box came to me. I was never adopted out of the system, so it was a shock that I even had what they called a memory box.” She was talking, and she looked heartbroken as she spoke.

“Let’s go in, you can continue in there.” I said, wanting to sit down. I led her into the living room and she didn’t really seem to care about the surroundings, she sat on the black couch and started the rest of her story.

“So I opened this box,” she said as she was opening the shoe box she held in her hands. “And it had all these things in it, it had a letter, which I couldn’t read yet, and it had a bunch of pictures, and some toys that she had put in it. The agency added a few more things into the box, like mom’s obituary, and some pictures of you with your name.” She continued,

“The pictures of me were of the day I was born, and the toys where toys that mom had bought for me when I was born before deciding to give me up. And here’s the letter,” she said handing it over to me I looked at it once, and started reading.

“Dear Alexis;

                “I am truly sorry for what I had to do, and I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I can’t imagine what life would be like being adopted. My name is Samantha Nelson

I stopped reading for a short minute while I looked over the name, the name Nelson meant that she was writing this after she married my father.

 “And I’m your mother. The reason I gave you up so many years ago was that I simply was not ready to have a baby; I was only 15 when I found out that I was pregnant with you. Your father’s name is Gregory Johnson. I’ll tell you a little bit about who I am, and who he was. I was a cheerleader at my high school; I was never one of those people who thought they were better than everyone. When I was 15 I started dating a boy named Greg Johnson. He was cute, and he was someone who sweet talked me into doing anything he wanted. We ended up having sex, and 9 months later I was holding a baby girl in my arms. He had always denied it though, never wanted to take the responsibility. I want you to know that I tried to take care of you, I really did, but I was doing it all on my own. I weighed my options and decided that adoption would be easier. So I took you to the agency, crying, and dropped of my daughter. It broke my heart. I couldn’t believe what I was doing, and to this day I regret not raising you myself. I want you to know that you have a sister. Her name is Christine Samantha Nelson, and your step father is Michael Nelson. However if you are reading this letter, it means that you’re eighteen, as per my wish. Enclosed in this box I have everything I have kept over the years. You were always on my mind Alexis, I hope you know that.

Love, Mom.

I finished reading the letter and couldn’t believe it.

“Why was I never told?” I asked, confused.

“To protect you, I don’t know. I started looking for you when I left my last foster home, it took me a year but here I am.” She said.

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A/N Unexpected? Yeah it was to me too. When I write I barely pay attention and my fingers move, so when I pulled out a long lost sister I was like o.O Oh well , lets roll with it :)

Sorry it's so short though :(

So the chapters are starting to get a little more interesting, and I am still looking for an editor, so pleaseeeeee!  Share this story to your friends too :)

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