"Who is adopted in the class?" I looked from side to side around the room and saw two kids with their hands raised, but mine wasn't. My teacher scanned the room and replied, "Go home and ask your parents and we will talk about it tomorrow." Hesitantly, I leaned to the side and whispered to my classmate, "What does adopted mean?" "It means your parents aren't your real parents", she responded. Confused, anxious and worried all at once, it never crossed my mind that my parents were not biologically connected to me, until now. .
I took it upon myself, at such a young age of 12, to ask my mom if I was adopted. I walked into her room, as she was relaxing in bed watching one of those soap opera shows. "Mom, am I adopted?" I asked feeling unsure. She turned to me right away with a sorrowful look on her face, and her jaw lightly dropped. I leaned in raising my eyebrows awaiting her response. She sat up and turned off the T.V., which made me uncomfortable, and I was bracing myself for what I was about to hear. "Well honey, yes you are adopted, but you are our child so it doesn't matter" she replied. I began to ask her questions back after back, "Scott and Brian aren't my real brothers?, "Where did I come from?, "Where are my real parents now?", Why was I." "Stop!" she yelled as she cut me off. "You are our child and you do not need to know anymore." I swallowed hard and felt my hart suddenly become heavy, and a knot in my stomach. She saw sadness in my eyes, as I did hers to. Which made her walk over to me and place her hand on my shoulder, "But you and Scott are related." I couldn't help but feel angry, my teeth were clenched together, I knew she was hiding something. Why would my parents keep this their little secret? I have a right to know where I came from. Little did she know I had a plan.