Two Voices

“Being adopted should have been the best feeling of my life. But it felt nothing like it.”

Separated from their mothers only seconds after they first met. Mabel and Bridget became best friends over their passion to find their lost parents. They bonded over the discovery of their inhuman abilities and formed a somewhat inseparable relationship. When they discover the origin of their tragic past, they are willing to do anything to get their lives back.


14. Lonely



I walked though the candy coloured corridors with my hand linked into Lucy’s. She was looking at my shiny pigtails and smiling at them as if she had always longed to have hair like that. I looked at her and smiled with her. Up until we reached the door of my classroom. Then my smile smashed into miniscule grains of dust.

Lucy opened the door and what felt like a million heads stared at me. A plumy looking teacher beckoned us over to a table in the corner of the classroom and sat me down in one of the yellow, plastic chairs.

“You must be Mabel,” She said, “I’m Miss Cooper. I’ll be your teacher this year. If you ever need help or if there’s ever something troubling you, come to me and I’ll help you out. Or if you’d rather, you can talk to Lucy or Kelsey. Okay?”

I nodded. At least I had someone to help me then if one of the people in my new class decided to start being mean to me. I felt safer with Miss Cooper around. And Lucy too!

“Okay you two. Off you go to your classroom now!” she said as she waved her hand towards the door.

Lucy gently pulled her hand from mine and walked out of the door with Kelsey following behind. I wasn’t upset though. I knew she wasn’t going for possibly ever like Bridget was and she would be back to show me around the school. She wouldn’t leave me. She didn’t seem like that kind of person.

Miss Cooper walked me over to another corner of the room. It was like a little reading area with shelves stacked with paper thin books and furry carpets.

“This is the Book Cloud.” She said, “This is where you can read as many books as you want during lesson time and even during play time if that’s what you want to do. There are the red books which are the lowest level books; the blue level books; the silver level books and the gold level books which are the highest level books. You can choose which books you would like to start with but if they are too hard for you to read be sure to read the lower levels. Have fun!”

She walked back to the table and I started sifting through the gold book. Kimberly had always told me I was a brilliant reader and that I could read any book I set my heart to. I think I could to. Reading was my passion then.

I picked out a book called ‘My Perfect Life’ and opened it up. The first page was of a family photo. There was a boy standing in the middle of his two parents. I blinked back tears. They were hugging each other and smiling at the camera. They looked like a perfect family. Like they belonged together. I wished we could be the same.

The last family photo we took was last month. It would have been beautiful. It was two blonde haired, peachy skinned parents next to a tall young adult with blond hair tumbling past her shoulders. Then there was me. A gap toothed kid with tough brown hair and freckled, mix raced skin. I was the odd one out because I didn’t belong with a family like them.

I shut the book and shoved it into the back of its shelf. I wanted a perfect family. I wanted a family that I belonged in. I wanted a family that really was mine.

I sat against the wall and put my head on my knees. I let my tears drip down my skirt as I cried my eyes out.

“Are you okay?”

I glanced up. A boy wearing square glasses and red braces was sitting beside me. He had light grey eyes that sank into mine sweetly.

“I want a real family,” I cried, “I want a family that I know is mine!”

He sat down next to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong with your family?” he asked.

“I was adopted when I was a baby.”

“You’re lucky! My mum died when I was two.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I’d always rolled around in my own sorrow but I had never thought about how other people’s lives could be thrown off course. It would kill me if I found out my real mother had died when I was that age. I hadn’t even met her then so how did I know she hadn’t died?

“I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” he sniffed, “My dad said he would always take care of me. Sorry about you family though.”

He stood up and walked outside. I watched him climb up the steps of a twisty slide. He laughed happily as he slid down. I knew then that I had to stop wishing I had my mum and accept the fact that I was welcome to an open family. If he could be happy without his real mum why couldn’t I? Maybe it was just because I’d never lived with her. I didn’t even know who she was!

I wiped my tears away and stood up. I couldn’t let Miss Cooper see that I was upset. She would want to know why I was crying and I wasn’t as willing to tell her about my family. She probably wouldn’t be as understanding.

I walked over to a group of table where people were painting on coloured paper. They were dunking their paintbrushes into the paint pots and splashing the paint over their papers. I sat down on a table by myself and started painting my picture.

I knew how to draw. Kimberly had taught me when I was three. She told me that most lines don’t run though each other and that each colour should be in its own section. Maybe she wanted me to be an artist when I grew up. It doesn’t sound like such a bad thing!

I stroked my pencil across the page. I drew two heads with one head larger than the other. I drew brown curls round the larger one and frizzy brown hair on the smaller one. I painted soft caramel eyes on the larger head and a mound of freckles scattered over its coffee coloured face. I drew a smaller version of her face on the other face and drew a ruby red dress under their heads. They were hugging each other and smiling at me. I wish it could have been real!

Miss Cooper strolled over to me and peered at my painting.

“This is really really good Mabel!” she exclaimed, “Did you do this by yourself?”

I blushed heavily. Everyone had stopped their paintings and was staring at me before looking down at my painting. I guess they were wondering why I didn’t draw a flower or a caterpillar or a bee like they were. They were wondering why I drew so differently.

I nodded and Miss gently picked up my painting.

“The smaller girl looks just like you! Who is that next to you?”

“My mum!” I mumbled.

She peered at the picture and gave the biggest false smile she could.

“I’m sure that is your mum sweetie!” she sarcastically said.

The children around me started to giggle and my face turned red with embarrassment. Miss didn’t believe she was my mum. Neither did the other kids in my class. I felt fat tears prickle behind my eyes but I held them back determinedly. I wasn’t about to cry again over something that they didn’t know. I wasn’t about to make myself seem weak and vulnerable compared to them. I wasn’t about to become a loser on my first day! 

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