"I was sick of letting the world run me so I decided to run the world."
~~~
Isabelle Cane was taken from her family at 6 months old, leaving behind 7 older brothers and a twin sister. In the 12 years she's been away, Izzy has faced hardships no chi...
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I am nothing special. I've been told that all my life. There is nothing about me that is unique or noteworthy, nothing that makes me stick out from anyone else. I was taught from a young age to blend in. To conform. To assimilate. To hide.
I was taught that there was nothing about me worth remembering. And certainly, there was never anything about me worth celebrating. Birthdays have never meant much to me. Other peoples' or my own. My birthday has always been a solemn affair. A yearly reminder of how alone I was in the world. Of how little much life truly mattered.
There had been years where it hadn't been that way, like when Marley and I went to the beach, or the last year my mom and I celebrated together, but mostly, the day I was born has only ever served miserable reminders of the things I couldn't have. And for better or for worse, my distaste for my birthday had never bothered me too much.
Not until now anyway. Before now, everyone I knew had accepted my reluctance to celebrate myself without complaint. Most years, the day had been spent messing around with my friends, doing everything we could to pretend it was just another day, which I guess it was, despite it also being Christmas eve. Brayden used to joke that Christmas meant as much about us as groundhog day; holidays like that didn't matter to kids like us.
They couldn't. Holidays and birthdays alike, all just reminded us of what we didn't have. It may seem sad, and maybe it was, but it was just how things are. Or were. I supposed things here would be different. I jumped out of my skin when a hand waved in front of my eyes, snapping me harshly out of the steady stream of thoughts I'd emerged myself in almost an hour ago when I ventured out onto the screened-in porch in the back of the house.
It was barely 7 in the morning, but I'd woken up an hour and a half ago on the couch since I'd pretended to fall asleep there last night so I wouldn't have to contend with the idea of sharing a bed with Finley. No one had mentioned our sleeping arrangements since yesterday afternoon, but I didn't want to take any chances.-and decided to explore the house while it was quiet since I hadn't had much of a chance during the chaos yesterday.
The house was even more beautiful when it was quiet. It was like a scene from a movie. Clean white walls, with artwork and photographs, fluttery thin drapes covering big, beautiful windows all across the living room and the kitchen, letting the early morning light reflect off the snow outside and casting an angelic glow across the whole lower floor of the house.
It was perfect. In those few minutes, while I wandered around the house basking in the silence and glow, I felt better than I had in a long time. I felt almost normal.
But then, I saw the shadow of one door upstairs opening, and I'd immediately been brought down from my cloud nine and returned into the depths of reality. But only for a moment. Only until I was alone again.
I internally sighed before I forced myself to look up at who was trying to get my attention. When I did, a messy-looking Kasey stood over me, with a small grin on her face and relief in her eyes.
