Finding Home | Finders Keepers #1✔️

Five - Shades

That night, I made sure to finish my painting first before I went to bed. Because I didn't want anyone to ask why I was awake in the middle of the night and making hot cocoa, I also made sure that everyone would be asleep and that the lights are dimmed before I went down to the kitchen to make me some. I thought I was alone but then the bald man decided to sneak up behind me like some ninja.

"Ms. Murdock?"

I jump, the mug that I'm holding almost spilling on me. "Shit!"

"Oh, sorry," the bald man says, a small smile playing on his lips. He seems to be enjoying the entertainment a lot. "Would you like some food to go with your drink, Ms. Murdock?"

Cocking a brow, I shake my head. "No. I thought that no one would actually be here."

"Ah," he nods, giving a short smile. "Well, everyone has gone home and will come back three in the morning. The Hollands are asleep, though the young Mr. Holland might not be supposed he is with his best friend, Kelly."

I shrug, unable to say something more. Grabbing the mug with two of my hands, I move out of the way, going around him and walking straight to the stairs, ready to get out of this awkward silence but before I can place my foot at the stairs, he stops me by talking again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Holland never wanted to give you up, Ms. Murdock, it's just that—"

"—I was always sick and they were drowning in debt so they decided to give me away," I cut him off, continuing the things that I knew he was about to tell me. "I know the story. I read it in their letter when my parents made me aware that I was adopted a long time ago. You know, I seemed to understand why they did it but then, oh, when I started looking for them, I learned a lot of things."

He becomes quiet, as if whatever he wanted to say has already been said; which, it has. So, I do the only thing I can do – I go upstairs to drink everything and decide whether I'm continuing to paint tomorrow after school or get a job.

The answer isn't clear because I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I had headaches and my eyes were red. Incidentally, having to be adjusting has had me forgetting that I should drink three mugs full of hot cocoa drink before going to sleep or I'm going to have nightmares. I'll be crying all night without realizing it.

It sounds weird, but I always put it like this: my hot cocoa drink is a mug full of alcohol and the headache the next day is a sign of having hangover. It's less weird when I think of it like that. I use the cocoa as some sort of agent to help me sleep and not have nightmares.

It's good thing that I packed my shades with me, just to hide the redness of my eyes.

"Honey, why are you wearing shades?" Mom asks, cocking a brow at me.

I shrug. I wasn't too keen on telling my parents the reason why I was like this. They probably will freak out – I mean, no makeup can cover up the redness of anyone's eyes so I'm basically screwed.

"It's sunny," I state, creating that stupid excuse on the spot.

My dad cocks a brow at me. "Inside the house?"

"Hey," I put up my hands in the air. "What do you want me to do? The sun's inside the house—hey! Mom, give it!"

My mother had ripped the sunglasses out of my head and I immediately turn away, not wanting them to see the bruise and redness on my left eye but it was too late – my mother had already seen it and to make things worse, she grabs my chin and makes me face them.