Switch

Sometimes, she wished she hadn't been born.

Her mother had brought her to the world, and abandoned her. She had travelled so many miles against her will to find herself in a family who didn't like her either. She didn't find her place there, and she felt she didn't have one anywhere.

She was on her way to college, as she was used to, and wondered why she was doing it. "Because that's what expected of you," she thought, "because that was the easiest thing to do." Sometimes she thinks about how lame society makes life: you grow up, if you're lucky, through a happy childhood, you go to school for fifteen years during which you're supposed to figure out how you want to spend the rest of your life. But that's a trick: you only got one choice, which is working to get money to pay for your life. She hated that principle.

Today, she decided she was going to oppose. She was going to break the wheel and stop trying to fit where she didn't. She never liked going to college. She never felt fulfilled at home. Her friends were the only ones that could grasp a smile from her. Even so, she knew she had to leave. She was tired of this city, this country. She took a wrong turn.

She was thinking as she walked. To change her life, she needed money, indeed. She had little on her. She went back home, where her adoptive parents had left for work, and stole the money she knew they kept in a fake can of peas. She would have enough to get away from here. She did not know where she wanted to go, and she knew the perfect place to get there. The bus station was a gold mine of random destinations, even those on the other side of the continent whose name is unknown to any common soul.

She stood in front of the bus timetable, and started looking for the longest journey. Bingo! Fourteen hours. She did not even read name of the city where it would take her, but ordered a ticket for the bus number 332. As she was turning around to find her way in the station, she heard a strange noise that sounded like it was calling to her. She hesitated, but finally followed it, thinking somebody might need help. The voice was calling her name. She wasn't sure whether it was in her head or actually in the station, but it led her to an empty bus stop. She suddenly forgot how she got there, but the voice stopped calling, and comforted her instead. "You're not alone. I know what you feel. I can help you in your journey."

She changed her attitude. "I don't need help, I'm travelling alone."

"You don't have to", the warm voice said. "And I can take you where you belong."

She felt butterflies in her stomach and arms around her body. She wanted to trust the voice. It added: "What do you wish for?"

"I wish I was born wanted." She had her eyes closed.

"I see. So be it." The voice echoed for an instant, and disappeared. She didn't dare open her eyes, and she knew she felt different. She had travelled. As she wondered where she was, it all came back to her. Her birthplace. Her actual birthplace, her dead mother, her horrible father, her big brother. The country she was in was the one she had dreamt so many times about, yet the one she had spent her childhood in... Wait, what? She slowly forgot the dreams. She realised it was all reality. The harsh reality. Suddenly, something hit her. The trauma. This was real. She opened her eyes.

Her big brother was next to her. "Are you switching again?" he said. She frowned. She did not get it at first. Her brother helped her by giving a few different names, and she recognized her own. The sound of the others made her feel odd, but it was a warm feeling. Her brother smiled. She did too.

As the beautiful sunrise in front of her made its way in the cloudy sky, she had time to think about her difficult life. She had been afraid, but now someone else is. She felt like she didn't fit in, but here she is whole by herself. She needed this life here. The trauma made her who she was. Made them who they were. Because now, she was not alone anymore: the voices in her head helped her going through life. She shared her body with her family, her thoughts with loving, and less loving people. Now, she knew she was safe and whole: she was part of something multiple.