Hadley

Hadley always knew she was different. It wasn’t just that her hair was dark brown when everyone else in her family had soft golden locks or how her eyes were hazel when everyone else had blue hues. But when things started happening around her, she was finally aware just how special she really was.

On her twelfth birthday her mother sat her down along with her father to tell her that she had been adopted. Hadley knew she was different, but she hadn't thought she was that different. She looked at her mother, or the person she took to be her mother, with tears in her eyes. She wanted to scream at them, cry, and tell them that they had it wrong. But she knew they hadn't. Her blood pressure rose as her cheeks flushed crimson. Her head began to spin be she didn't grow dizzy.

"What do you mean I'm adopted?" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She watched as her mother’s glass picture frame rose from the buffet table behind her. Her face was shocked, but somehow she wasn't surprised.

"Hadley, please, calm down." Her mother tried to plead with her, but Hadley wasn't listening. Her face no longer crimson but ash white. She was unable to control herself for much longer.

"No, I will not calm down. You've been lying to me this entire time. I've been going through..." she couldn't find the words to describe exactly what had been happening to her. "I don't know what it is, but it's been something alright. I lose days of my life, time skips forward without any reason. And now! Now, things are floating."

Her mother whipped around frantically looking at all the objects that had begun floating while she was being screamed at. She turned back towards her daughter, "Please Hadley. We are sorry. Your father and I wanted to tell you. But we could never find the right time. I know that sounds like the cheap way out, especially now with everything going on. But really, we love you very much. And we want to help you through this. We'll tell you anything you want to know."

Hadley seemed to think this over for a minute. As she thought her stress level decreased, her body stopped screaming at her to release the power within. Her face was no longer ashen, but back to its slightly pink tone. She was no longer dizzy and her steel gray eyes now focused on her mother’s hazel ones. The picture frames clattered to the floor as if what was holding them up just seemed to stop existing. She sat down, her body no longer angry, but mourning the thought that she was quite possibly no longer part of this family. She didn't feel part of it anymore, detached somehow, in such a short span of time. No longer knowing who she was, she pulled her knees up to her face and started crying.

She felt the cushion beside her on the couch cave slightly at the weight of someone sitting beside her, but she didn't want to look up. Instead, she stared at the inside of her eyelids. Watching the colors change as she applied pressure to them from leaning on her knees. Someone touched her back, rubbing it soothingly, but she fought to give in to the comfort. "Tell me," was all she could manage to say.

It was her father’s voice that spoke this time, much closer to her than he originally had been. He must have been the one to sit next to me and rub my back, she thought to herself. He spoke in a soothing tone, "Hads, your mother and I, we still think of you as our daughter. Even if you aren't of our blood, just remember that as we tell you everything." She didn't respond to him, but he continued on.

"We adopted you when you were six months old. We hadn't known we were pregnant with your brother James, yet. And we had been trying for five years. So when one of the nuns from the nearby church came to us we listened. We had wanted a baby for so long, our goal always seemed so far out of reach.

"But, she came to us. She knew we were looking. She told us that there was a woman who just gave you to her. Always she said was, 'Find her a good home.'" He stopped long enough to pull his glasses from his face and pinch the bridge of his nose between his sapphire blue eyes. He seemed to collect himself, trying to figure out how to proceed before speaking again.

"You were so sweet and so adorable, that we jumped up at the chance to have you. We didn't even stop think about it, already we saw you as ours, before accepting you from the nun. We were worried that someday your mother would come looking for you, but she never did. It wasn't until you were almost five that we learned anything about her."

He turned to her mother, "Jane, get the envelope." She nodded at him as she stood up, and he continued on, “The nun sent us a news clipping. She remembered your biological mother quite clearly and was completely shocked to find out she had simply died in a car accident." Her mother returned with an envelope, handing it over to her father, she still didn't bother to look up. He read it out loud to her instead.

"Joley Leanne Holmes died tragically yesterday, August 15th 1985. She was in a three car pileup on the expressway in Riverside, Ohio. Authorities say she didn't have time to stop as the car in front of her swerved to miss a dog running across the road. What little attempt there was was futile when she rammed her '79 Dodge Charger into the tail end of the other motorist’s car.

"She was thirty years old when she died. The owner of a local occult bookstore in downtown Riverside, she had no family to speak of, and is survived by no one. Her burial will be covered by the state. Please see the medical examiner's office for full details on date and time."

Finally, Hadley looked up from her knees. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light. She looked at her father who was staring at his hands, in them a yellowed warn news clipping. She reached over and slipped it delicately from his fingers and re-read it over and over. She just stared at the clipping.

He spoke again, "She also gave us a note that your mother had sent the nun. It hasn't been opened. We thought that when the day came you'd want to do that for yourself. " He slipped another a smaller envelope from the larger one that held the news clipping. It too was yelled from years of neglect. He handed it to her and left the room, dragging his wife along with them.

Hadley stared at the writing on the front of the enveloped; a messy scrawl that simply read, To My Daughter. {/}She flipped it over and slid her finger beneath the seal that popped up with the slightest pressure. She pulled it from the envelope, unfolded it, and stared at the same messy scrawl that was on the envelope.

         To My Daughter,                                                  August 15, 1985

                   Hopefully by now you are old enough to understand everything I'm about to tell you. Know that the people who are caring for you are the best people. After I gave you up, I watched the nun hand you over to them. Naturally, I was worried that she had picked a random family to take you in. I know, after giving you up, I had no right to choose who would take care of you, but naturally I was worried. I still wanted the best for you.
         I hired a private investigator to check them out. And to keep tabs on  you as you grew up in their home. They are good people, treated you kindly, and truly love you. With that being said, this is my reasoning. I wouldn't have been able to take care of you the way you would need to be.
         Your real father was different just as you were, and up until his dieing day he fought to hold back control the things that happened around him. I had hoped that it would never happen to you. You were born four and half months after me finding out that I was pregnant with you. Apparently you were anxious to be out of my womb.
I knew then, not even four hours old, that I wouldn't be able to take care of you. So I gave you up to an unsuspecting family that had no idea what you were. Giving you the chance to be truly loved with out the reminder of all the pain. I do hope you forgive me for this. I did love you, just not enough to fight through the pain. Grow up, be happy, and learn to control the power that was passed on to you.

                                                                                         Love  Always,
                                                                               Joley Leanne Holmes