Becoming a DeMarlo

3: "She's allowed to have emotions."

Chapter 3: "She's allowed to have emotions."

When I woke up, I was back in "my" bed, with my head pounding.

The realization of the fact that I had not eaten in a day struck me just before the memories of the morning returned. 

My two new brothers.

My father who was really not my father, bruised and being tortured.

My entire life being one big, fat lie.

Who would have thought?

I got up from the bed while clutching my head. I felt sore and gross. 

I peeked out the door, and found an angry looking bodyguard staring back at me.

Jeez.

I closed the door and sat back onto the bed, trying to process everything that had happened to me in the last 24 hours. 

I couldn't.

I had always been Maya Fitzpatrick. It was impossible to think of myself as anything else.

And how could there have been no signs?

My "dad" was pretty cold and distant to me, but he wasn't particularly loving towards anyone. My mom was okay. She liked me, I think.

My four older siblings were all bullies, but Mom had always brushed it off as sibling love. She left our family a few years ago, after a late-night argument with our dad. That just made him meaner and angrier.

None of us kids looked exactly the same. Liza and Johnny were red-heads, and Paige had black hair. Despite this, I never suspected that I was adopted.

My thoughts were interrupted by a series of knocks on the bedroom door.

"Come in," I called out.

Charlie entered. I was kinda thankful it was him and not emotion-less Elijah. 

"Hey. How you feeling, kid?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, I guess," I answered, unsure of how to describe how I really felt.

"I'm sure this is a really difficult time for you," Charlie sympathetically said. "I'm sorry you're having to find out about all this in such an unexpected manner."

I simply gave him a slight nod.

"How about you freshen up and then come down for some food? We're having lunch right now."

"Okay."

"Great. I'll wait for you outside," he responded, gently closing the door behind him as he left. 

Could he really be my brother?

Him and Elijah definitely looked alike — dark hair, green eyes, sharp features — but their personalities were surely opposites of each other.

Charlie seemed to be kind and soft-spoken, and treated me like I was some kind of delicate china doll. Elijah was harsh and blunt, wasting no time to get his point across. Hell, the man shot at me! Three times!

I tried to calm myself down, and went into my huge closet-room, really wanting to get out of the clothes I'd been wearing for the last day.

Surprisingly, the clothes seemed normal, and looked like they would fit me. How much had these guys stalked me?

I kept my jeans on, but changed my shirt. All the clothes looked brand-new, but I felt weird accepting that this was all mine now. 

I washed my face in the attached bathroom, before heading out. I ignored the ugly bruises and marks that were developing over my arms and neck area.