The Magic on the Island #Onceuponnow

Part 1: First Chapter

The Little Mermaid  has always been my favorite story. At least, the Disney version is, mainly because of the fact that Ariel didn't give up her family of give her life for a stranger like in Hans Christian Anderson's version. But that's just me. The one aspect that always reeled me in was how Ariel wasn't human and from a totally different world, yet she still had a curiosity for something different, that being the human world which really sucks. 

Why would she choose this place that sends unfortunate kids and teens like myself into homes with crazy and messed up people like current foster family who claim to do it for "a sense of charity" or "giving back", when all they want is a check? See Ariel, this world isn't as fantastic as you think. All in all, STAY IN ATLANTICA! You don't want to deal with the thieves, racists, criminals, or people in general here.

Basically, I live a miserable existence with Lilith and Jared Moore, my foster parents. Jared is the picture perfect image of drunk people everywhere who likes to fight with his wife, a lot. I really don't know why they got married but Lilith told me when they were dating they took a trip to Vegas and Jared proposed (drunkenly), then they headed to a chapel and got hitched. Their witnesses being a guy in drag and a dancer named Bubbles. Lilith on the other hand, doesn't talk a ton unless she is telling a story or standing up to Jared.

Then again, pretty soon I'll age out of the system (in four years to be exact) and it will no longer be my business. I just try to stay out of their way, I just do a ton of chores (which is code for all of them) and bring Jared his beer, which makes me their personal beer delivering monkey slave. This brings me a year closer to freedom. Then, on that note when I turn fifteen I have a secure job at my favorite bookstore, The Reading Fool. They got sick of me going in there and reading their books without paying for them. I know because the manager told me that when I turn fifteen there will be a spot for me so I can buy my books instead of wearing out all the for sale copies. My weekends consist of walking to The Reading Fool and finding a new young adult release. I love sitting in this little navy blue chair with the plush cushions and armrests by the window. Especially on days when the Kansas sun is shining just right through the window, it makes me feel as if I have a home and a family in just the other room waiting for me to tell them about my latest read.

Books happen to bring out my emotions which are often hidden around my foster parents, so while sitting in that store window passersby can see me laugh, cry, smile profusely, or curl in an upright fetal position when a finish a well loved series. Sometimes I look up to see their expressions and they make me laugh no matter what mood I'm in. But sometimes you just can't hide from reality, and mine is bothersome. It tugs at my mind, making me wonder about questions I know I'll never get the answers to. My reality is that I was put up for adoption when I was one. As a younger child I used to think foster parents were like babysitters, that my parents would come get me any day. They never did, but come on, really? My life isn't some sort of fairytale retelling, I was just a kid with dreams. When I finally realized this I decided that the only one I could ever rely on would be myself.

The day I met my birth father started with rain. It was a calm rain, the type only found in Kansas where the sun would shine just a little but still have fat drops that would soak you in less than five minutes. I always thought this type of weather was like my deep emotions, sunny because of my fun-loving self that I show and rainy because of mixed emotions like sadness or anger that I try to hide. I think that's why this is my favorite type of weather. My raggedy umbrella was broken to the point where it looked like half was a metal skeleton and the other a yellow half moon. I figured what's the point I'm still going to get halfway wet anyway so it's really not worth carrying the extra weight. I love this type of rain anyway, the sun warming my body from above, the rain sliding through my thick curly hair; I always found that relaxing.