His eyes were a bright, shiny green color. His skin so Pale he could've passed as a ghost. But he didn't because I remember his touch. His pale, bare arm pressed against my back as he held me. He was my father, my wonderful, nice, good looking dad. he was perfect, that is, until he gave me away. I could've been 4 at the youngest. I never knew why he put me up for adoption. I've always wondered why, but in the end I never found out. I was killed. Murdered brutally at age 18. But let's not start there, let's start from the beginning. My name is Kourtney, Kourt for short. From the day I was dropped off at the adoption house. The House is what we called it, the other kids and I. It was a decent place to live not as bad as most would expect from a house full of loud, obnoxious kids. I was the worst behaved. At least that's what the people said, the people who were going to adopt me. But of course, like always I ruined that chance for me. I never wanted to ruin my chances of being able to live outside of the House but it just ended up that way. Until the day a beautiful young woman adopted me. I was eleven at the time. I was so excited and grateful. I was finally going to experience a family of four, not a family of twenty to thirty, but a family of four. I was going to be part of those four! The most tension I've felt in my life was right then, walking from my room to the Leader's Office. The tension ran up my spine giving my the goosebumps. I wish I hadn't been so nervous, but you can't change the past. With my bag on my left shoulder I strode in with a confident smile. Then I seen who was there to pick me up. A man I had wished all my life I would never see again.
