The Unseen

Chapter 8

As soon as I stepped into the house, I bombarded my grandmother with questions about my past.

The poor woman was overwhelmed but still led me to sit by her side on the sofa and started answering the flood of inquiries to the best of her abilities.

"When you appeared in our lives, we all thought it was a miracle. However, I didn't know how big of a blessing it was until your parents died. In their wills, I learned the truth. In hindsight, I should have known something was different about you. Your parents were unable to conceive for such a long time. Then, they came to my house after one year of barely any contact with me, carrying a beautiful little baby in their arms. Now that I think about it, I had doubts even then because you didn't look like either of your parents; you were beautiful but in a unique way that I couldn't trace back to our family genes. Still, when you are suddenly hit with so much joy, you often lock up your rational mind. You don't really NEED the logical answers anymore. All I needed to know was that your tiny hand was grasping my finger with all its strength. I knew then and there that you were my grandchild no matter what. I suspected that... something was different about you. But it didn't matter because the moment our eyes met, I knew I would love and protect you no matter what," Grandma said.

"Then tell me the truth now. Was I adopted? Is that the big secret I wanted to forget?" I asked, ready to learn the truth.

"It's not as simple as that. And no, a lot more happened before you chose to go down that road," she answered.

"Why do you people keep telling me that? Make it simple," I snapped, only to immediately regret it. "I am sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I am just so frustrated by no one giving me straight answers."

Grandma stroked my hair gently, a soothing gesture that defined my childhood. Whenever I was sad or mad, she would do that. She would share her warmth with me, making me feel so much better. However, this time that wasn't enough.

"Who else have you been talking to?" Grandma asked cautiously, clearly still trying to protect me.

"Andromalius, he said to ask you about the secret of my birth," I said.

"That poor boy," grandma said, shaking her head sadly. "He has been through so much, and just when he thought things would get better for him..."

Grandma stopped suddenly, clamping her mouth shut as if she was afraid that she might let something out she could never return to its cage again.

"Can you please tell me what I need to know instead of being vague and mysterious," I said, my frustration impossible to contain even when talking with someone I loved so dearly. "You said you learned the truth about me when you read my parents' will. Can you start with that? What did it say?"

I started cracking my knuckles, unsure of what I should expect. What was so horrible about me that I chose to forget it all? It had to be something truly awful for someone to drastically change who they were by erasing parts of the past, of what made them into the people they were.

"Very well, let me make you some hot cocoa, and then I'll tell you everything I know," grandma said, moving swiftly toward the kitchen.

I wasn't sure if she was stalling for time or trying to arrange her thoughts more coherently, but either way, I decided I could be patient for a few more minutes. Surely, she would give me much better answers than the strange, cocky man I apparently liked.

It occurred to me she thought I would need some comfort after learning the truth. Thus, my leg started bouncing up and down, although my brain was telling me to stay calm.

Luckily, Grandma was soon back with warm beverages and an even warmer smile. From her facial expressions, it never felt like she saw me as something evil. It was quite the contrary.

"Alright my dear, you drink your cocoa, and I'll talk," she said, resigned to reveal what I've apparently told them I was ready to forget.

I nodded obediently and tried to warm myself up with my favorite drink as the truth about my existence was revealed to me.

"In your parents' will, I learned that you were adopted," Grandma said, squeezing my hand gently as if wanting to say it didn't change anything between us. "However, yours wasn't a regular adoption. That was one secret they didn't feel comfortable sharing with me until after they were gone."

"How so?" I asked, sitting up straight.

The adoption part wasn't a shock to me. I had a feeling that was the case. It was just something I never wanted to discuss. Yet, I always assumed that it was the most usual type.

After all, I didn't know much about adoptions in general. However, it made sense that my parents weren't biologically my parents because we looked nothing alike. Who would have guessed there was so much more behind it?

"Well, even though they told the police they found you in front of the church doors and immediately started the adoption process, which by some miracle went without a hitch, the truth was slightly different," Grandma said, taking a slow sip of her cocoa, savoring the taste. "What really happened was something that no one would have believed them even if they did tell the truth. A bright light appeared while they prayed for a child, blinding them."

Hearing that, I recalled my dream and wondered if it was a dream or something else. Since I felt peace and happiness in the morning, it might have been so much more.

"As their eyes got used to it, they saw the most beautiful being they had ever seen standing before them, an angel. And in the angel's arms was a tiny being, the most precious one for them, a cute baby with hair of burning fire, with different shades of red and orange," Grandma said, looking at my long, unruly hair. "Your parents fell in love with you immediately. They didn't even notice the tiny fluffy wings you used to wrap yourself up in until later."

"Wings?" I exclaimed far louder than I expected.

I most certainly did not have any wings. It was something I would have noticed even without my memories.

"Yes, wings," Grandma said patiently like a kindergarten teacher trying to calm down the unruly children. "Patience my dear, you wanted me to tell you a coherent story, and that's what I am doing."

Stunned, I just kept staring at her. She took that as a sign that she should continue talking.

"The angel told them the Heavens weren't as safe or beautiful as people assumed. Things were too black and white, and even small as you were, you started to show signs of needing more color in your life," Grandma said, smiling gently at me. "She also told them that no matter what Heaven or Hell thought about Earth, she believed it was the best place for her precious daughter to get the chance to experience all the color palettes, something that wasn't possible in Heaven."

"That's it? That was why I was expelled from Heaven?" I asked, dumbfounded. "That's just lame."

"No, there was more," grandma said, turning more solemn than I'd seen her in a long time. "The angel said Heaven and Hell would be against you because you are so different. Because you see so much more hope and beauty in the world than they can. She saw all your possible futures, and the best option seemed to be here, on Earth, with us."

"I can understand Hell would be against me," I said, feeling unreal to even say those words, let alone think about what it all meant. "But why would Heaven have anything against hope, beauty, and finding more in the world?"

"As far as I understood from what your parents wrote about what the angel told them," Grandma said, making it clear this was information passed down through too many hands to be completely accurate. "Heaven sees things as either good or evil, no middle ground, but you see the gray area. You even see things beyond what they can imagine. I guess it's better to say that instead of seeing black and white, you see and appreciate all the rainbow colors."

Although I wasn't even sure I understood what that meant, I got at least some information. The question was whether I could deal with it without going insane.

A loud shattering of glass snapped me out of my reverie, making me stupidly rush into the kitchen to see what happened, ignoring my grandma's pleas to wait.

What I saw made me freeze in place and regret my choice.