Mikah

CHAPTER THREE

I sat in the comfort of my own bed as I reminisced all about the day I had just experienced.

It was surely one of the greatest I've had in a while, and so I begin to think of the next day, when I would see Phoebe and Nora again.

They have been the nicest lassies I think I ever did meet, I swear.

Then, I began to wonder how old Phoebe was. She didn't look much younger than me, quite honestly. Perhaps I would ask her tomorrow over breakfast. But what if she gets offended? Oh golly, why must my mind filled with such bad thoughts.

The mind is seriously equate missed years thing, that is for sure.

If I'm honest, I don't think I'll ever get used to I am and how I know basically nothing about my birth family. But I couldn't help but be curious for that's just how my mind works, whether I like it or not. I've learned to be alone in most situations so it explains why I don't trust a lot of people.

Personally, I don't think that anyone needs to know my whole entire past. Except me, of course. It's quite hard not to be curious when you legitimately know absolutely nothing about who you truly are as a person.

But that should be my right, to know The past and to know who exactly are my biological parents. It's no one's business except my own and no, you cannot, absolutely not, change my mind.

Olsen always tells me to stop worrying about my past, how it won't do me any good, but it's truly easier said than done, now isn't it?

If I could just stop being so goddamn curious, don't you think I would have already? On the positive side of things, I met two lassies that are sweet and practically my only friends at Morley's, but who knows if they would stay. They could get adopted in the second, for all I know, but I know absolutely nothing about what the future holds and it scares the absolute hell out of me if you wanna know the truth.

***

I DON'T REMEMBER EITHER ONE OF MY PARENTS. I MUST GAVE BEEN FIVE YEARS OLD JUST ROAMING THE STREETS OF DUBLIN ALL ALONE  I DIDN'T PARTICULARLY HAVE A PLACE TO STAY EVERY NIGHT, SO I WOULD JUST SLUMP DOWN AND SLEEP WHEREVER I FELT LIKE DOING SO THAT WAS THE NORM FOR ME, AT LEAST, BUT REALIZING THAT NOW SEEMS SO VERY SADDENING. I'VE LAID IN THE PARKS AND MADE FRIENDS WITH THE LOCAL LADS AND LASSIES AND THEY EVEN WOUND UP TEACHING ME HOW TO READ AND WRITE. THANKS TO THEM, IT STARTED UP MY LOVE FOR TELLING STORIES, FOR WRITING THEM ESPECIALLY. AND WHEN I WERE ONLY FIFTEEN, I STARTED THE VERY FIRST DRAFT OF THIS VERY NOVEL. BEFORE THEN, I WROTE FAIRYTALES AND STORIES WITH NO REAL POINT. THAT'S WHEN I CAME TO REALIZE, IN THE LONG RUN, THAT FICTION WAS MOST DEFINITELY NOT FOR ME. AND SO I DECIDED THIS WOULD BE THE NOVEL THAT WOHKD BE PERFECT, AND MY STORY WOULD FINALLY BE SHARED—

As I read a chapter of Olson's book that I have read so many times before, the hope for a spark of inspiration for the memoir Olson badly wanted me to finish.

I couldn't even properly begin. How in the hell would I finish? Or get anywhere near finishing, for that matter.

Looking at the clock, I soon realized there was only nearly 6:30 in the morning, thirty minutes until everyone else would be told to get up from their slumber.

Why couldn't I just be normal and not wake up early all the damn time?

I stood up and push the chair in, frustrated with myself,

"I can't write!" I exclaimed.

Beginning to feel my hands in my hair I wanted to pull it all out.

Olsen looked up at me from looking down at his newspaper,

"Oh, son. You can write, I know you can, and you know you can, all right? You just have to get into the right mind set." Olsen replied, trying to motivate me.

But it didn't motivate me as much as it should have, that's for sure.

I just wanted to give up, admit my defeat, but something about this all made me hold on tighter than before.

The Stagg sisters, their elegance, their willingness to hold on, how despite their mysterious trauma, they stayed oh so very strong.

All of this ceased me to wonder about the man. Philip, that Phoebe mentioned inside her journal. Then, I realized, it was absolutely none of my business.

But I decided I would do it for them. I would put in all my effort, and all my motivation, into them. I would finish my memoir... maybe even find my biological parents in the process, with the help of the Stagg sisters.

Hell, maybe even find their family while we're at it, and maybe even become famous as Olson did with his memoir, and maybe whoever my biological parents are... They would come to realize that the thing they did, giving me up, was the worst mistake they could've ever made.