Cinderence ✅

The way my parents told the story, I was born to save people. A superhero. But, I don't have any powers like Superman or Spiderman. My superpowers are my genes - coded by a geneticist in a poorly-lighted lab, to make sure that my blood was perfect, my tissues were perfect, and that it all matched my brother's antibodies, antigens, anti-whatevers.

They call us savior siblings.

Or, the more common title - donor babies.

Don't get me wrong - I'm here, I don't have any issues physically - except for my cat allergy. I'm in perfect health most of the time, and I saved my brother Mason from fanconi anemia. I've done some research on it, and the simplest explanation for it is that your bone marrow stops producing red blood cells. So, I was born, and eventually I donated some bone marrow, and he got better.

Until he didn't.

The doctors said that it's common. That kids with fanconi anemia may eventually develop AML. And leukemia doesn't really have a cure, does it?

From age eight to about age fourteen, I wore my brother's clothes because my parents forgot I existed as they went through all of the drama of dividing all of their assets in half and filing for custody. It was a fairly smooth process, and I see my mom most weekends, and my new stepmom is amazing.

The only thing that sucks about this is my dad's best friend and his twin sons.

My dad went through a really rough time when Mason died and the divorce finalized, so Lucas, and his two sons Drake and Alex, live here now. They see their mom once a year - on either Christmas or Thanksgiving break, and that's the only time I get a break from their insanity.

They're insane.

Drake and Alex act as if they are dictators over my life. I can't do anything they do, or want to do, and I can't do anything they wouldn't do, or don't do. There's a very fine grey area in there - and that's me. I operate in that territory, and I stay out of their lives.

But this isn't about them, it's about me.

This is the story of Cinderence.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

"Get up! Get up!" Jaq screeched in my ear as if I wasn't already awake and listening to the sounds of the birds chirping. "The bus gets here in four minutes. TERENCE!"

"I'm up." I said quickly to get him to back off, and pulled the wool blanket off of my body. I started speed-dressing, while Jaq poured two bowls of cereal and shoved all of his binders in his backpack.

This is Jaq. My best friend. His real name is Jacques, but he hates going by his French name, so everyone calls him Jaq. I sleep over at his house way too often - in the cramped two room apartment where one room is his and his dog's, and the other's is his parents. The couch is mine, or sometimes I'll bring an air mattress over and crash on his floor.

"Mars, stop it!" I said, trying to get my jeans on, but the dog kept winding in and out of my legs.

"Mars, food!" Jaq called, and his dog ran off to the food bowl, and I put my shoes on, though they weren't on the right feet.

"Bowl." I commanded, and he handed me a bowl. I scooped my backpack off of the table, and I opened the window to get out onto the landing and descend down the fire escape stairs.

"50 seconds." I said, checking my watch, and trying not to let the milk spill. It was a long walk down the stairs to the ground, where we proceeded to run around the building to the front and hop on the bus with some other kids.

I sat down next to August, and milk sploshed onto my jeans then. "Good morning, then..." Gus said, scooting away from me. Jaq sat down across the aisle, and began wolfing down his frosted flakes. I look down at my Captain Crunch, and keep eating it.