“You cannot take her away from us until you have evidence that she isn’t ours!” my mum wailed in disappointment at Mr Thompson as he stood in front of her, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“It’s not fair; you don’t know that she isn’t ours. One man’s accusations can’t do that” she argued pathetically, not even believing in herself. “He can’t keep her from us. She may not even be his.”
She turned to my dad for support, but he didn’t really know what to do either. He hadn’t seemed to know what to do since the lawyer had turned up. He stood motionless with his hands in his pockets.
“What’s the problem?” Jayne finally asked, turning to Mr Thompson as she looked away from my hysterical mother. It was clearly hard for Jayne to empathise, for she gave my mother a strange expression as she did so.
“He’s telling me that Charlotte can’t stay with us, her family, until we prove that she belongs to us!” my mother exclaimed in annoyed response to Jayne.
She was clearly seething about it, and confused. I too couldn’t really understand what was going on. “There’s nothing to prove.
A hospital would never make a mistake like that. Those Americans are total nut jobs. Shouldn’t you get them psychoanalysed or something?”
“I would appreciate it if you could just act like an adult, rather than taking a total strop with me” Mr Thompson snapped as he tried to diffuse the situation, but didn’t do a very good job of trying.
“Mr Sanders is my client. He hired me. I can’t dismiss him as crazy. And, believe it or not this happens scarily frequently.”
She rolled her eyes at Mr Thompson’s rationality. “I can’t do this” she groaned as she walked out of the room. It began to bother me somewhat how she couldn’t face any of this.
It was me who had just learned that I might have the wrong identity. Nothing about her was about to change. She wasn’t going to have to get used to being someone else.
“So,” I trailed cautiously, looking away from my father, “why exactly is my mum going off on one like that?” I directed my question in the way of Jayne.
“I don’t actually know, yet” she exhaled apologetically. Together, we both turned to face Mr Thompson and my dad.
“My clients have requested that Charlotte be taken into care until we obtain the DNA results” he breathed.
His face told us all that he didn’t want to be the one to have to say it, or mention it in front of my father again. “He doesn’t want Charlotte being influenced by either parent.”
“Like, my wife said” my dad muttered. “Nut jobs. They just can’t accept that their child died at birth. Seriously, they need to move on. It’s been sixteen years.”
As he finished his sentence, he stormed off upstairs in a similar fashion to the way my mum did.
It made me realise that even if I did belong to them – if the DNA test came back positive and did not match the one obtained from the other potential parent – then I wasn’t sure if I could ever be the same around them again.
Seeing them behave like this made me wonder if they really did care. I imagined that my friends’ parents would have held on tight and never even accepted the concept.
My mum seemed angry about it, but she didn’t seem too eager to hold on to me.
And so there I was, standing downstairs, alone with two strangers and trying not to cry in front of them.
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I Know it's Hurting You, But it's Killing MeFanfiction
Imagine living with a family inwhich you are completely different. Imagine you come home one day to find a man telling you that you may have the wrong parents. Charlotte is whisked away by a social worker and is immersed into an unfamiliar world of...