fam·i·ly
Céline.
Crystalline, pure white sparkles fell gracefully from the light grey clouds, that hovered above the world. The sun was hidden today, but I didn't mind — not one bit. I tugged my coat closer to my body as I walked through the crisp cool air, and the snow stuck together under my boots, after each step. I could feel my nose and cheeks flushing in crimson and my lips almost blue from the cold weather.
It was the first snowfall of the season. In actuality, it was still autumn, but I couldn't wait for the next season to begin. Everyone hated the winter months because of blizzards and having to go out in frigid temperatures; whereas for me, it was a dream come true. Out of the four seasons, winter was my absolute favourite. There is just something so special about it. Many say that fall is all about sweater weather and warm cups of tea, but so does the coldest season. Bundling up in too many layers to count, drinking a mug of hot cocoa, and sitting right in front of a fireplace. I couldn't picture a better heaven.
Of course, winter was the polar opposite of summer. I hate the hot, humid, and sweaty climate through, what feels like, never ending months. When you're practically wearing nothing, yet you're still melting under the burning hot sun was torture in reality — and there was nothing else you could do about it. Well, that's until you hit that nice sudden breeze of brisk cool air, once you walk into an air-conditioned building. Again, that refreshing sensation is a temporary form of happiness for me.
I walked into the large building, immediately loosening the scarf wrapped around my neck, and slid the mittens off my hands. I shook my head slightly, discarding the melting flakes off of my clothed body. My hair fell back down, just at my shoulders. It was at a perfect length for me — it's just long enough to tie up, yet short enough to style it loose. I absolutely hated it when the ends stuck to your skin at a certain point. That, of course, happens in the warmer months; giving me another reason why I despise the heat.
It was always warmer than it should be near the entrances of buildings, that I felt like a fire had just erupted around my body. Cooling off as I walked, my feet carried me through the halls of the Children's Mercy Hospital in downtown Kansas City. Everything was the same as it was yesterday and the many days before that. There was something about this hospital though, probably because it was made specifically for kids. There were colours everywhere. It wasn't the dragging dull and neutral colours that bored the naked eye. Hospitals were built and made to help cure people and make them feel better. How on earth was that to happen if they plan on depressing that person first? I shook my head at the mind-twisting logic that is carried on through the many minds of people in this world.
My eyes looked towards a little girl, walking around with an IV stand dragging along by her side, and her Mum on the other. She carried a worn out teddy bear, dangling from her small hand. It was so close to the ground, I almost felt the need to raise it from the dirty floor; but I restrained myself, as I saw her Mum read my thoughts. I showed a small smile as I passed them, their two pairs of lips mimicking my own expression.
I turned a corner and bumped into a man wearing a white coat, knocking files from his hand, and quickly had the scattering all over the ground. Several eyes of nurses and a couple of other doctors looked our way, but then carried on with what they were doing. I apologised profusely for my clumsy action to the man only a metre away. The both of us bent down to pick up the papers on the floor. As soon as my hazel brown eyes meet a pair of stunning green ones, my breath slightly hitched at how attractive this male was. His hair was slightly long and it confused me on how he was so good looking. I coughed, attempting to cover the fact that my mouth was definitely dropped open. He smiled at me, both apologising at the same time, once more. My fingers moved a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Once I handed them back to him and carried on my own path. I walked into a room and saw wide smiles from my two favourite people.
"Aunt Cece! You came!" The little girl, laying on the bed spoke, her brown eyes widening as soon as she saw me. Even with her tiny body and lack of hair, she was absolutely beautiful. Her tone was soft, but she had a big voice.
"Of course I did!" I unzipped my coat, sliding it down the length of my arms, and laying it on the edge of the motorized bed. I opened my arms to give a hug to my niece.
"Hi Céline, you came." My sister showed a small smile, who sat on a chair next to my niece.
Josephine, my considerably new-found sister and her daughter Hazel, have been the light of my life for my past year. Ever since Josie reached out to me — in which she basically searched for months — we've been inseparable. She's my older sister, by blood that is. Twenty-three years of my life I had no one beside me, not a soul. I had no idea I had a sister until she came along.
Having to jump around from one foster home to another, almost every year was absolute hell for me. It's not that I wanted to, I was forced out of them — in many ways, it was for good reasoning. I never made friends in school, mainly because I never wanted to even try. In the beginning I would, but then I grew attached, and it made things worse when I was pulled away from the only people I started to care for.
To my knowledge, I was told that my parents both died in a car crash just a few months after I was born, and was immediately taken into the care system; but wasn't put on the adoption list. Somehow, no one thought I was good enough to have a decent family — at least, that's what I thought anyway.
The foster care system is one of the most corrupt things on the planet. Sure there are some good families here and there, but to my wonderful luck — note the sarcasm — I was never placed into a decent home. Josie was though. Eventually, she even got adopted by the family she was with. I don't resent her or feel any type of jealousy towards her. Things happen in life and some just manage to have a fate that is just meant for you; and only you. I wasn't included in that list, except, I thought I wasn't.
As soon as I hit the eighteen mark, I was free from the system. I had the freedom to do what I wanted in life and chase after my goals. I never shared what I had in my mind to anyone. I didn't trust a soul, because no one was worth trusting. That is, up until Josephine and Hazel came along.
When she first knocked on my small apartment door, I practically threw her out. I mean, what would you expect from someone to just randomly say that they are your blood-related relative? She said that I was a bit crazy of how I reacted, but then again, she understood why I did such a thing. After a few more tries, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, and finally decided to listen to what she had to say. It turned out that it was true about our parents and how they died. For the longest time, I thought that the system was lying to me, and that my own flesh and blood just threw me in the streets because I was some sort of mistake. After hearing so many stories, you tend to not believe a single thing anymore. According to her, we were staying at their close friends' home, whilst our parents were out of town for a business meeting. Of course they couldn't take a five year and six month old daughter with them. Then the unfortunate accident happened.
Sometime after, we were put into the system and were separated. The information that she was my sibling, was somehow removed from my own personal history. I didn't know much about myself for the longest time, all I really knew was what they told me. My full name is Céline Alice Prescott, my parents are deceased, and I was born on April 17th in the year, 1996. There wasn't really anything else, which was just peachy. Why is there an acute accent in my name? I will never know. My personal opinion though, it makes me feel like a French woman. It was possible that our parents had a French background. I mean, they named their children, Josephine and Céline.
Josie stuck around for a bit, constantly coming back and forth to visit me. Every time, she'd continuously try to make me know the full truth. I never fully believed her until after I asked for a DNA test, which confirmed my suspicions. I didn't want to get my hopes up that I actually had a family for no reason. Even though, after months of trying to her persistent nagging, I considered her a friend. She was my only true friend, though I never told her that until much later. It was not long after that she introduced me to her daughter, Hazel, who I love to the moon and back. I've grown so attached to her. I wasn't ever fond of children, but she was an exception. I've even told her things that I haven't told her Mum. If she found out, she would probably murder me. I mean, that's the worst case scenario.
When I met Hazel, she was six — she's seven now. Josie's father took off as soon as he found out she was pregnant. A coward, like all men are; but her daughter doesn't seem to mind. When she was born, my sister pulled a Lorelai Gilmore, and named her daughter with the Prescott last name. Josie's last name changed when she was adopted, but still wanted a piece of her true self, so she gave that little bit, to her daughter.
Their relationship is something that I've never seen before and it's something incredibly special. I see my sister cry sometimes, because she wishes there was someone else to be by her side. Someone to stand there to take care of her, while she is nursing her own child. Hazel constantly reminds her of how much she loves her and that she'll never leave her. I think that's another reason why I stepped into to be apart of their lives. It was the best decision I ever made, even more so, when I decided to get my masters degree.
It wasn't easy to see them all of the time, since I lived in Detroit. I visited as much as I possibly could, but it was hard still being in school at the time. They were ecstatic when I told them I was moving to Kansas City. They attended my graduation, which was back in early June. Josie said that she, "Wouldn't miss it for the world." And she didn't lie. Having her and my niece come to watch me walk across the stage, having my degree handed to me, was the best feeling I had in the several years of my life. My past two graduations, I never even went to them — there was no point; but my masters was different. Much different.
I love architecture and design with my entire life. It's been a passion of mine since I was little; well, not architecture itself, but it started with drawing. I figured all of that out on my own. I loved looking at anything that had a unique shape to it. I loved studying a building and thinking of all the features that made it look the way it is — I understood all of that. Books are knowledge, and I was almost never seen without one. Not just any books though, mainly textbooks — including mathematics. Those things that everyone seems to trash at the end of the year, they are my safe haven. Math keeps the same, it doesn't change, and I like that. It wasn't something I had any control over, so it made me feel safe. The art aspect just added a more personal touch in it. Art and design, touch the soul, and they've always been close to me.
No one ever noticed that I had a talent for paying attention to the most intricate details of anything that was artistically related. It was always different to me. I noted that myself and it was another thing I knew I was good at — paying attention to things that could possibly mean nothing, even though it would be the complete opposite.
I never let my past define who I was, even though I'd met so many other foster children who thought the opposite. I was naïve as a child, who thought that everyone on this planet was good. It wasn't until I reached the age of seven that I realised it was all a lie. I still maintained a good child, even though I was beaten by multiple different families I stayed at. It was pathetic and the only reason good enough that would immediately pull me out. There were some homes that seemed decent, but just after their inspection a few months in, everything would change. When I reached my teenage years, I started to rebel. I had fights with other kids, and it didn't matter where ever I was. During that time, I loved to cause trouble and create a havoc in the neighbourhood. That only lasted for a few years though, then I decided to smarten up. It wasn't for the people around me, but for myself. I knew that I was smart enough to get into a good school, so I studied hard to get my grades high. That was when I started to get bullied. It's the time when other students realise you're a 'nerd' and want to bring you down, defining who you are; but I wasn't going to let them. I proved them wrong. I proved everybody wrong.
With my grades, I managed to tutor other students in any subject they needed. The only thing the system was good for, was that if you were a good 'child', they'd help you with giving you a little bit more money. It wasn't enough to live properly, but it was better than nothing. I worked at every job I could find. It all paid off in the end, when I graduated high school and got a few different scholarships to Wayne State. I took them all and kept everything up. I never once let anyone bring me down in any way, shape, or form. I was only as strong, for myself. No one else was going to get me success; it was all on me.
It wasn't all easy though. As strong as I was and how I seemed to the public, I was, and still am, a broken person. I've cried countless nights to sleep and in my shower. I still have a panic attack at least four times per week. Before, my place to live consisted of one room that barely fits a twin-sized bed, a tiny bathroom, kitchen, and the smallest living area known to man.
No one has ever taken care of me while I was sick — not that I had anyone to do that. I've been rejected by so many other schools that I truly wanted to go to. People might think I settled, and in some ways, I did. I knew that I was good enough to go to any Ivy League school of my liking, but they didn't seem to think so. I was fired from so many places, some of which I even had to mop floors, and clean the filthiest of floors. It's not the funnest of times when you get drinks and food, purposefully thrown at you, saying, "it was an accident". Nothing is an accident in this world. That's where the problem is. As much as you try to work around it, it still hits you in the face like a moving truck. The example of the life comparison between my sister and I, proves that.
Things took a little downfall when I thought I fell 'in love', but boy was I wrong. Some ass in my first year of undergrad, thought I was an easy 'target' — and I fell for it. Relationships were always pathetic in my opinion, but I guess I didn't think so at the time. I never even bothered with anyone during high school. I gave him everything and he left as soon as he got what he wanted. I let my guard down and that's where the problem was. I pushed past his flaws and kept telling myself that I could change him, but he wasn't going to do anything. It wasn't his plan, because he had other motives. All they think about are themselves, then they lure you in, knowing they got in.
No one ever puts in an effort to change anything about themselves. Every single guy is the same, no matter how many times they tell you they 'love' you. Falling in love is a mythical concept. That's all what it is. No one loves for the sake of 'loving'. No one is ever sincere. Opening up your heart only emotionally destroys you. The pain and personal humiliation I felt, didn't pull me down in a sinkhole. In fact, it made me stronger. On the other hand, it was what confirmed to me that one should never trust a single soul in their life. All of that changed though when two angels appeared in my life. Now, I believe that love does exist, and it hits you when you least expect it.
The problem was, one of my angels was diagnosed with stage I chronic lymphocytic leukaemia. It's been nine months since then and she's been in and out of the hospital too many times, that it's useless to count anymore. Children's Mercy in KC is known to be one of the best and that's exactly why we're here. Josie considered taking her out of state for treatment, but her gut feeling told her to stay — so she listened to it. At a certain point in time, the doctor told us that she was cured after her first round of treatment, but then it came back. Unfortunately a month ago, it turned into stage II, but we haven't told Hazel. We want to give her that extra hope, and luckily, she's kept it.
"Earth to Auntie Céline." I heard a little voice speak, a hand waving in front of me.
I was pulled out of my own thoughts when I realised I had to reply to the adorable youngster in front of me.
"I promised I'd come, didn't I?"
"I missed you." Her small voice spoke.
"I missed you too, little Hazelnut. You know, you're my favourite niece."
"You're silly Aunt Cece, I'm your only niece." She giggled and I tickled her lightly.
"Exactly, which is why you're my favourite." I grinned. "How're you feeling today?"
"Good! The doctor told me I have two more treatments to go and I'll get better."
"That's awesome." I spoke, happily. My eyes travelled to my sisters when I saw hidden tears behind her fake smile.
"What do you say if I steal your Auntie for a bit?"
"Don't you two be talking about me behind my back." She raised her brows and I laughed.
"Behave Hazel." I pointed a finger, laughing lightly at her adorable pout.
My sister and I walked out of the room, her hand placed at the bottom of my back, leading me first.
"Céline ..." She started, but I pulled her into an embrace before she could say anything else.
"It's okay Josie. It'll be okay." I hugged her tightly. I didn't know what she had to say, but I knew that this what she needed.
"How do you know?" She pulled back, looking into my eyes, searching for any kind of hope.
"Hazel is a fighter. She'll fight for me, she'll fight for you, she'll fight for herself. She's her mother's daughter." I softly cupped her cheeks with my hands. She smiled in my grasp and I pulled her back in for another warm embrace.
It felt good to be there for someone and care about them. I never had that. Having a chance to be a family is a foreign concept to me and I'm still slowly adapting to it. It has been over a year, and lately I've been used to change, but this is different. This is the first real thing in my life that is steady and serious.
"Everything alright?" A husky voice let out, at the same time I felt a hand on my shoulder. It caused my older sister to draw back, to look at person who had spoken. The same one, who was on the phone. She nodded, wiping her tears on the back of her hands. The man gave off a warm aura, something that I'd never felt before. It wasn't the attraction or charismatic appeal he showed, but an inviting and friendly face. No one has asked that before — asking if a completely stranger is alright. Who does that?
"Mhm." I replied and he nodded.
"Everything will be okay." Was the only thing he spoke before turning around, leaving us back to our own personal emotions.
..
A/N:
Surprise!
Updates will remain on Saturday's, but I figured surprise chapter would be nice.
So far, what do you think? Let me know please and thank you! Don't forget to comment and vote, it's only a tiny little effort.