Alexander William Gaskarth walked into an orphanage not knowing what to expect. He sees a skinny, scrawny 13 year old girl sitting on a couch separated from everyone else. Instantly, he goes towards her while the guys felt unsure of what to do and talked to some others in the tiny room. Alex felt drawn to her and he wasn't quite sure why but he intended to find out.
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Morgan
My name is Morgan Elliot. I was left on a firehouse front entrance when I was 9 months old. I was never given a last name. I am always in well staffed orphanages or foster homes. I'm usually left alone. I deal with depression. I refuse to self harm, after all my own body is going to kill me soon anyways.I'm never adopted, it's strange to even have someone speak to me. They get funding from the state. There's one problem with me that usually turns people off. I have cystic fibrosis. If I don't get a lung transplant soon, I'll be lucky to live to 25. People pity me and turn away. What's the point in loving someone for a short amount of time? I don't blame them, I don't love me either. I love music. Anything related to music is something I can talk about for hours. I write shitty songs in my free time and noodle around on the small keyboard and guitar in the recreation room.
I was told I was needed downstairs today. Someone important was coming to adopt. I only rolled my eyes. I tossed clothes on with a grey beanie on my head. I took my morning meds in a pudding cup. I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror. I left my portable oxygen concentrator upstairs, not wanting to seem even more fragile than I already was. My long brown hair seemed even more wavy today and my eyes were a brilliant green.
I donned my beat up Converse and I ran down the stairs. I had to stop at the bottom to cough, feeling unable to breathe for a brief moment. Ha! Who am I kidding? I can't breathe anyway. Cystic Fibrosis is a disease that basically means my body makes too much mucus that's so thick. Therefore, I have constant doctor appointments and dozens of pills and treatments to do daily just to live. For the longest time, I have been living for my treatments. But I want to do my treatments so I can live. If I'm meant to die young then I can at least live life to the fullest, right?
I straightened my beanie once the coughing subsided and walked into the den. My eyes widened when I recognized the man sitting on the couch. "Oh, Morgan, you're here!"Karen, the house mother, fake smiled at me. I waved awkwardly as Alex Gaskarth turned to face me. He was wearing ripped dark skinny jeans with a tshirt and a beanie similar to mine. "This is Alex Gaskarth. He's a potential adopter,"she said and stood. "Better not fuck this up,"she whispered in my ear with a glare before leaving me alone with him.
"Hi, Morgan, my name is Alex Gaskarth,"he said, introducing himself and standing to offer me his hand. "I---I know,"I stuttered out. He chuckled while I smacked myself internally. Who the fuck just says that? "Well, come have a seat. Tell me about yourself,"he said with a smile as I shakily walked over to the couch and sat down.
"Well, my name is Morgan Elliot. I don't have a last name because I was left at a firehouse when I was 9 months old. I'm 16 and I've never lived outside of a foster care. The state pays for my medical care. Something you should know about me, I'm going to die young. I have Cystic Fibrosis and, without a lung transplant, I'm toast. My lungs are operating at about 60% right now and new lungs are hard to come by,"I said, expecting him to walk away or say 'oh' like so many others. I'm shocked when he pulls me in for a hug instead. "You haven't left?"I asked in shock when he released me. Alex laughed.
"No. Morgan, you told me everything. And, when I came here today, I already knew who I was adopting. I wanted someone real. Someone who could show who they are without pretending,"Alex said. It was my turn to say 'oh'. "I have depression as well. Your music has helped me in so many ways. I had a sibling apparently. One of your CDs was left with me with a handwritten note,"I said "I'm glad it's helped you. So, I have to ask, how would you like to come home?"Alex asked. At first, I wasn't sure what he meant or if I even heard him right. I put a hand to my mouth.
"Are you serious?"I asked. He nodded. And then came a coughing fit. "You okay?"he asked, rubbing my back as I nodded. The coughing subsided a few minutes later. "I'm going to go pack,"I said. He nodded and went to find Karen to fill out paperwork. I slowly climbed the stairs, losing my breath. My room was the first on the left. My oxygen concentrator sat on the bed and I quickly grabbed it, putting the nubbins in my nose and taking in a deep breath. I pulled the cardboard box with my belongings from under the bed and pulled my clothes from the dresser to put them on top. I put my Aflo vest and meds on top of the clothes.
A knock sounded on the doorframe. Alex stood there. He didn't seemed surprised by my appearance. "Ready to go?"he asked. I nodded and went to reach for the box when he grabbed it instead. I slung my oxygen concentrator over my shoulder and took one last look at my room before following him down the stairs. He led me out to his car, parked in front of the house. He sat my belongings in the backseat and we both climbed into the front. I was so happy to be out of there. It's time for a new beginning. I took one last glance out the window at my old home before turning away to sneak a glance at Alex.
A/N: Hey y'all! I started a new story, SURPRISE! Lemme know your thoughts in the comments. Updates might be slow, I dunno yet. New chapter soon. Thanks for reading! Much love!
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Alive and Breathing (Adopted By Alex Gaskarth)
FanfictionAlexander William Gaskarth walked into an orphanage not knowing what to expect. He sees a skinny, scrawny 13 year old girl sitting on a couch separated from everyone else. Instantly, he goes towards her while the guys felt unsure of what to do and t...