When I Grow Up

My birth parents and my dreams

I'm told I am from a fairytale or a mystical land of dwarves but I know those are just stories. Stories told to make me feel bad. Stories told to degrade me but I'm just like any other seventh grader I'm just short. And one day when I grow up I'll wear the tallest high heels the world has ever seen so maybe, just maybe I can be like them. The pretty girls, the fancy girls, the popular ones too, I long to be like them. I long to be accepted, to be treated like a human not anything else, maybe someday I will be. I dream of sitting on the couch with a bunch of friends who will braid my hair and paint my nails, who will tell me the gossip instead of telling gossip about me. The ones who I can lean on and the ones who won't leave me when the going gets tough.

My birth-mother was from Kentucky, maybe that's where I'm from too. She died in a car accident unlike my father who didn't drive at all. He took a bus but I guess he forgot to get off at the right stop and he just kept going. Maybe I'll see him again. He went on the never ending bus ride right before my mother died. At the hospital a nice lady took me to an orphanage. I was 3 or 4 when it happened. My only friend who liked me was Jenny but she died. She died when I left so I guess it's all my fault really I left and she dies. There was nothing wrong with her, she was perfect, I wasn't and she didn't care. It seems that everybody cares what part of the social triangle your in. I wonder what part my mom was in, probably the popular group or the friendly one. The only things I can remember is her warm hugs that felt like you were walking on air, and the way she smelt, her natural scent was one I always loved the one I long to smell again.

My father always smelt sour and like smoke. He smelt like dirty laundry and the people I'm told to stay away from. He told that he loved me, that I was his favorite daughter, and I was his only daughter. He looked like the dirt underneath his shoes, The grass that wilted in the winter and the trees that fell over in the rain. He was not my favorite person EVER.