Home Was Never Mine

Synopsis

The day I found out I had leukemia, I didn't cry. Instead, I felt relieved. After all, I wasn't their real daughter. If I died, I wouldn't owe anyone a thing. When I was six, I got into a fight with my sister over a teddy bear. Mom yanked me into the corner and said, "You're not really our daughter. You're not really our daughter. Everything here is charity from us." From that day on, I never asked for anything again. My sister, Emily Foster, got new dresses, while I wore her old school uniforms. She took piano lessons, while I washed dishes in the kitchen to afford breakfast the next day. I lived like baggage in this house, always ready to be taken away at any moment. After my diagnosis, the doctor said a bone marrow transplant would work best if I could find a close relative who was a match. I didn't tell my family. While secretly searching for my real parents, I used the money I'd saved over seven years to pay the deposit for my grave. Last night, I had a fever of 102.2°F and was stumbling to the kitchen for some water when I overheard my parents talking in their bedroom. Mom said, "Did we go too far back then? Claire's starting to feel like a stranger." Dad let out a sigh. "What else could we do? Emily's adopted. If we hadn't told Claire she wasn't our real daughter, would she ever be willing to put Emily first?" The glass slipped from my hand, rolled twice, and stopped at my feet. It turned out I was their real daughter all along. The one they treated like family for nineteen years was actually the adopted kid. I stood outside the door and burst out laughing. But my illness was already in its final stage.