New Beginnings

Chapter 1

Abeer glanced through the window of her mother's car. The car jostled slightly as they passed a bump, promptly making the girl slightly uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat at the impact, while her mother's eyes lingered on her, filled with concern.

"Are you okay, baby?" Abeer's mother- Lauren- asked. Abeer nodded her current status, confirming she was indeed just fine.

"Yeah, I'm fine mom. When's Daddy coming come?"

Lauren visibly stiffened, gripping her hands on the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

"Dad went to get the milk, honey. Keeho won't be back until later." Abeer's mother replied, no enthusiasm present in her tone.

Noticing her change in attitude, Abeer began to worry. Is he okay?? Did he actually go get the milk and the meme came true?? These thoughts plagued her mind, killing her calm attitude quicker than the Black Plague that had killed all the people in the thirteen hundreds.

The car abruptly stopped, and Lauren slammed her hand down onto the wheel in frustration. "Gosh dang it, the car stopped. We'll need to send it in for repairs soon."

Gritting her teeth, Lauren turned the key on the Hyundai Palisade once again. OSAKA VRROOM VRROOM. The car roared to life, and they began on their way back home once again. Lauren's phone dinged, and Abeer barely caught on to the words on the phone as she leaned forward in an attempt to read the messages.

🖤Keeho🖤
Lauren
We have to tell Abi today, okay?
I don't want to hide it from her anymore
She deserves to know
See you at the house, love

"Mom?" Abeer asked, her eyes as wide as saucers.

"Yes, honey?" Lauren replied in a sickly sweet tone, depicting her exasperated state after reading the messages from Abeer's father.

"What are you hiding from me? Is it something bad? It better not be," Abeer warned, her heart leaping out of her chest in nervousness.

"It's nothing much sweetheart. We'll explain later." Abeer's mother sighed, glancing apologetically at her daughter.

"Okay, mom." Abeer sighed in return, knowing her mom wouldn't tell her. Not now anyway.

Pulling out her phone, Abeer distracted herself looking through memes and giggling, but quiet enough so her mother wouldn't ask what she was laughing about. Her mother pulled into their driveway that led to a two-story house, promptly putting the car in park and turning the vehicle off.

"Your father is inside," Lauren murmured. "Go inside and we'll talk for a bit before dinner's ready. We need to talk to you then." Her voice was stern, and Abeer felt a slight trill of fear ring in her body. What could possibly be the matter?

Mumbling a quick okay, Abeer obediently scurried to her room. Opening the white door to reveal a deep crimson painted room, encrusted in white framing. Black and white furniture filled the burgundy room, the covers of her bed a light grey. A multitude of plushies resides on her bed, tucked neatly in a row of animals across the wooden headboard.

Her posters of multiple groups she stanned were plastered neatly onto the walls, albums filling a whole bookshelf in her room. Smiling at her decor that she's had since she could remember, she flipped down on her bed with a sigh.

What was going to happen? Something's up. Mom seemed pretty mad, especially when I mentioned Dad. Is Dad cheating? No. Abeer quickly shook away the thought. I don't think so. I think it's something else. It has to do with me, I just can't place my finger on what.

Scrolling through Instagram, Abeer liked all her posts that she stumbled across. Smiling at a few, she barely felt the time fly by. All of a sudden, it was dinner time.

"Honey! Dinner's ready!" Lauren called from downstairs. Abeer's head jerked up in realization of the time, and plugged her phone into the charger. Running downstairs, she came face to face with her father and mother in the kitchen.

"Hey mom. Hey dad." She greeted, kissing their cheeks briefly as she gave them a small smile. Both were cooking, and couldn't necessarily greet her properly. Instead, they gave her small smiles in return, even though it didn't particularly reach their eyes. But hey, at least the meme didn't come true and her dad never returned with the milk.

"Sit down," her mother commanded. Once Abeer had done such, tapping her fingers patiently on the dinner table. Her father took a seat next to Abeer, giving her a cute grin. Abeer grinned back. "So baby," he started, almost nervously, his gaze slowly turning more serious, his lips forming a thin line.

Abeer's mind began to wrack her with anxiety. What could it be? Is it something I did? Oh gosh, what is it?

"How would you describe yourself, using us as a comparison?" He inquired. Abeer's brows furrowed in confusion. What? Why?

"Uh-" Abeer paused, finally answering with a small smile, "I think I have mom's temper." Hearing a small hey! of indignation from the kitchen, she chuckled before continuing. "I also think I have your sense of humor, and mom's eye color. I also think I have your eyes, nose, lips, and your smile. I think I also have my mom's hair type and color." She finished, her mother suddenly coming along from the side of the kitchen and giving her a somber smile with the side of a hug.

"Why are you asking me this?" Abeer inquired, her head tilting to the side in confusion.

"Well," Her father took a deep breath. "You're not actually ours to begin with. I'm sorry if we led you on to believe it."

Abeer's lower jaw dropped. What? I can't process this- no- they're lying.

"Stop playing, Daddy. That's not true. Right?" Abeer paled, glancing at her mother for confirmation. Her mother simply nodded curtly, gnawing on her lip nervously.

"Sorry, Abi." Her mother apologized, keeping her head low. "We should've told you before."

Abeer, instead of feeling sad, was hit with the car of betrayal and anger. Her eyes lit up with rage and she suddenly spat, "To hell with it! Yes! You should've! I've lived all nineteen years of my damn life without knowing who my real parents are, and here's you two who lie to me about it! Please just don't right now. I've always been grateful to have you two, but at the moment I'm feeling nothing close to it."

Abeer got up, subsequently pushing her chair in. "I'm not hungry." And left.

Rage pulsed in the air, filling it with a mostly unspoken tension. Abeer felt the same rage course through her body as she stomped upstairs.

Running upstairs, she felt the tears prick at her eyes. Who are my real parents then? If they're not actually my parents, am I really just living with strangers? No. They're your adoptive parents.

Suddenly the spacious room felt much more claustrophobic than it actually was. Choking at the low air quality, Abeer let her warm tears drip down her face in the dark room. Suddenly stopping, she reminded herself that she had a playlist for these types of situations. Plugging her headphones into her phone, Don't Want to Acknowledge(Bang Chan; 방 찬) softly began playing, and Abeer smiled in satisfaction before bawling her eyes out again.

A few minutes pass, and once she had no tears left to cry, she sat up. She felt the slight burning sensation in her eyes, which were most likely puffy at the moment. Her nose felt stuffy, and she sniffed to try and alleviate the discomfort that it brought.

Why? Why did my day start off so good, only to come to this?