Amanda [No relations]

Life unfolds

Sitting at the dinner table, I watched as Ms. V and her daughter's passed around the white floral breakfast plates, as they prepared for the early morning meal. A basket of five freshly baked loaves of bread was placed at the tables' center piece, along with some salted butter, sunny side eggs and three glasses of orange juice. [All of which was prepared by the one and only me- not to brag or anything but I am quite the chef, a novice to be exact but I am seeing improvements]. I remembered when I fried an egg for the first time, I was six years old and I didn't quite perfect the "flip" yet, the egg ended up crumbling under the the silver spatula. It looked sad, dull and most noticeably BURNT. Anyways, I did get myself into some trouble and Ms. V grounded me for burning the eggs, and even more so for making it for myself, and not for the household. Her punishment was denying me breakfast for one straight week. I was only allowed to choose between having either lunch or dinner, and I always chose to have dinner. I found that I'm the hungriest at night. I sometimes felt like I transform into this growling 'Hunger Monster' against my will, ravaging through the kitchen, flinging open Ms. V newly white washed cupboards with their golden handle. I even imagined myself ripping them off, bending the steel in a fit of 'Hanger' [ lol, I get real carried away by my thoughts, lets continue with this morning shall we]. As the girls passed the plates amongst themselves. I watched as the yellow egg yolk spread within their mouths, each bite oozing with the eggs' creamy goodness. Both girls took turns slurping the freshly served orange juice, silently, as if savoring its distinct flavor. [I'll admit, I felt as though they chewed and drank their food that dramatically on purpose]. Nevertheless, I sat back in my chair and listened as they talked about their weekend plans. I wasn't allowed to touch anything at the table, I could not eat at the same time as they ate, nor could I voiced my weekend plans.

Since being adopted into this family I was told it was not "my place" to do this and to do that. Instead, I would wait for whenever it was "my place" to say or to do anything. A perfect example of this is right now at breakfast, after everyone had eaten to their hearts content, whatever scrapped was left [ if there were any left at all] I was then allowed to take and make my breakfast out of it.

I never quite understood why, Ms. V treated me like an outcast from the rest of the girls. I mean, I know I'm adopted but it seemed as if she goes an extra mile each day to prove it to me. If she didn't want me, why did she adopt me in the first place, why go through all that paper work to just treat me like I am- an unwanted step child. Over the years, I found myself questioning the reality of my situation less, and more on accepting it as it is.

However, I soon found out that the reason she did adopt me was because her friend Ms. Q, was always raving about the popular act of adopting less fortunate children. She stated that by through adoption a woman is perceived as a more honorable, caring and respectable woman within the neighborhood. I guess all those titles seem befitting to Ms. V. Ms. Q continued with her speech stating the said adoptee would value the "ideal" life that they're "good for nothing bio parents couldn't afford them".

If u must know, Ms. Q is one of Ms. V most 'trusted' companion [and only friend]. She lived across the street from us, her house two stories high, white fence around... [the whole nine yards]. Her house overlooked ours like a student in a principle's office. Ms. Q and her husband lived alone, they had no children. [I'm not sure why]. However, she did fancy the thought of adoption, I'm guessing that it was her continuous talk about it that inspired Ms. V to undertake such a task after the death of her husband. I assume, she wanted to see if she can carry out an independent decision without him. That independent decision turned out to be me [sadly]. Ms. Q giggled ever so often after each remark, sometimes I wonder if Ms. V even sees how forced those giggles becomes over time. She would then end her speech with, "behind closed doors...," her voice would descend into a whisper "they are the perfect candidates for house maids, for free," her laughter grew intensely at the end, a bit forceful at that too. I don't know why but both women seemingly complemented each other at the end of the day, one married, one widowed [the perfect pair].

I mean, life isn't all that bad overall, I Amanda am grateful for the opportunity of a new life, new home, new sorta kinda sisters and a Mother. This life is different, I am away from the strict rules, the everyday potato-soup diet and blandness of the adoption home. But for the most part, this new life sucked. I'm nothing but a human vacuum cleaner to Ms. V and a mocked version of her girls. Sometimes, if Ms. V felt like it she would force me to go over to Ms. Q's house and help out with the everyday chores.

Honestly, I have thought of running away countless time, I had it all planned out in my head. But where would I run to and to whom?

In the end, I know No one would ever miss me.