Chapter 1

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I wake early, well earlier than usual. I look at my alarm clock which flashes the numbers 6:53am back at me. I wait and wait and soon loose track of the time. But just as I was about to check what the time actually was, my alarm erupts into fits of beeping. I quickly turn it off and stretch out my arms, almost knocking over my bedside lamp.

I get out of my bed and make my way to the bathroom. I flick a switch and the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling lights up the room. I squint at my reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. I have dark rings under my eyes and my hair has knots all throught it.

After a couple of minutes I realise my breathing is rapid and there are beads of sweat on my forhead, but I'm not stressed. I had the same dream that occurs twice maybee three times a week.

Dream:

I'm running, from what or who I don't know. All I know is that I need someone. I need to get to someone important. But when I stop running there are only two people there, but I don't know them.

The woman has my figure and light brown hair. The man has my eyes. I'm about to ask them who they are but they get shot. Right in the heart. When I turn around to see who fired the bullets, everything dissapears including the man and woman.

End dream

I grab a facewasher and turn on the hot water tap. I wash the tired look off my face and let the water out of the sink and away down the plug hole. I turn off the light and creep back to my room, not wanting to wake up the rest of the household.

I get to my room and close the door. I put on a sky blue mid-drift top and black high-waisted shorts with my black leather Converse. I hear the coffee machine start whirring away which means mum and dad are up.

I pull my light brown, waist length hair up into a high pony tail and ditch the make up. I run downstairs and into the kitchen, almost running into an open pantry door.

"Good morning sweet heart, how are you?" dad asks. "I'm fine as always" I answer. Mum gives dad a stern look which confuses me a little, but I brush it off. I put two pieces of bread in the toaster and get out the peanut butter.

"We've got to tell her" I hear my mum whisper, probably to dad. "I know, I just don't think she's ready" he answers. "We promised them that we would tell her the truth when she turned fifteen".

Oh, I forgot it's my birthday today, fifteen and standing proud.

"Tell me what?" I ask as I turn towards my parents. Disturbed expressions are plastered across their faces and my stomach drops, something's wrong.

Mum hooks my arm with hers and leads me into the living room and we sit on the couch. Dad sits in the arm chair, fiddling with a loose string off his shirt.

"What's wrong mum?" I say, unfortunately I couldn't hide the concern in my voice. "There's something we need to tell you Darcy" mum says slowly.

Really, I say to myself.

"When you entered our lives, we were so greatful. We felt like the happiest parents in the world" dad explains. I could see he was fighting back tears.

"What are you saying?".

"You were so small", a tear trickles down mum's check. "We had always wanted a daughter and then they said you needed a home so we offered and..." she trails off.

At first I'm confused but then I realise what she meant by that. The truth hit me like a slap in the face.

I'm adopted.

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