Chapter 19: Truth or Lie

He does not leave. He is still there, standing, standing and seeing my pathetic self unable to control my emotions. Is this what a friendship breakup feels like? Will I ever be told the truth? I wonder if my adoptive parents knew about my circumstances. They have always hidden the fact of my birth.

Was my birth a blessing or a curse?

He comes near, and I push him away.

I run.

LIKE A COWARD UNABLE TO FACE IT.

Until… I understood that there was no place for me to run.

My adoptive parents will not tell me the truth even if they knew it. The only person who will is standing right behind me, a bit away. The person I am running away from.

I was escaping the truth because I felt comfort in the lies.

I felt comforted by the lies told by several people. If Chelsea can do this, I bet a lot of people are doing it. They are all acting.

I remember the famous lines of Shakespeare that meant:

The world is a stage, and we are playing our roles.

I wonder how he views the world.

I turn back to Carlen, walking slowly as tear are slowly drooling from my eyes. That is not how I want anyone to see me as. He does not run, he is waiting for me to be comfortable around him. He respects me to the point he does not do anything to make me feel uneasy.

It is as if he was always there looking after me from afar. Whether I have acknowledged him or not it did not matter, he only cares for my well-being. He does not care whether it is with him or among others.

That is the purest kind of love.

I fail to read the expression on his face because my tears have filled my eyes, and made my vision blurry. I fall to the floor, I need to take a break. It is just too much for a single day.

I fall in front of me, and he slowly sits down to meet my face. I look at him in the eyes, he seems worried… worried for me.

"Let's take you home, enough school fo-" he says this or something like this until my vision becomes blurry to dark, and I black-out.

The next moment, I opened my eyes and found myself in a room. There are windows, but they are closed; anyone living here will become upset within a few days. I wonder where I am or if I am kidnapped. There is a soft blue light, it is coming from the candles placed at the desk.

Artificial candles that change light. This is not my place for sure, and it looks way too fancy for a place to be kidnapped at. My hands are not tied, I am sitting in a queen-sized bed, the room is big but a bit old. As if it has stopped in time.

There are cute stuff toys in the corner of the room, and I guess a balcony outside the windows. The artificial lights of candles are the only thing that is from the modern times. Apart from that, it looks like a sweet baby girl's room. There is a cradle right beside the bed I am in. It's all pink.

There are some pictures at the desk beside the bed, they are the pictures of the baby. It is a girl with facial features like mine yet the face-shape is a bit different. You never know how someone would look like from their baby pictures. You can guess, but you cannot guarantee.

Whoever the baby is, she is loved. I can say that by looking at the room all around me, it is filled with natural love.

Something I never had.

I am grateful to live a life the adoptive parents provided me with, but there was always a wall between us that I could never break. They never let me, they were never open towards me. I always indulged myself in books and copies so that I am inclined to learn more about myself. When you work, you have the liberty to take your mind off from the world around you. It is just you and your assignment.

I try to stand up, but my head aches. The last thing I remember is falling to the floor in front of Carlen. How bad was the fall?

There are knocks at the door.

"May I come in?" Says a familiar voice.

It is Carlen.

I am glad.

"Yes," I say softly. He looks at me; we both know that I am confused about it. He explains before I ask him to.

"You are at your original birthplace, this was… is…. will… be your room. It has not been used after you left," he says, and smiles softly.

I never saw him smile like there is some comfort in this room.

"So… the pictures here are mine?" I ask.

He nods. He closes the door and stands inside the room. He does not come closer because he knows I will be uncomfortable with it.

He gives me the space to dwell on my thoughts until I cry it out to him. He waits patiently for me.

"What about my adoptive parents?" I ask, staring at my baby pictures.

"They know who you are and where you are," he says.

-Thanks for reading-