TBT: A story I wrote in highschool

By My Side By mqtpi When I was little, my teenage parents left me. From what I hear from the nuns at the orphanage, I was left on the front porch with only a tattered, used blanket and a letter. Note: I never saw the letter. The only clothes I had were the ones I wore: a newborn’s shirt with a hospital logo on it. I was less than 3 days old, my name is Hope, and I was all alone.

The fact that I was left by my parents did not bother me; in fact, I felt special. The nuns who took care of me are my moms, they loved me and I love them. At school, the other kids would tease me about my many “mommies” but that never bothered me. I knew I could justify my answer in a way that would drown their shallow minds. My quick replies were no match for one question that a certain inconsiderate boy asked, his question twisted my world and destroyed my own happiness.
It all started in third grade on Bring Your Parents to School Day. In order to encourage family bond and love, my school created it’s own version of Bring Your Kids to Work Day. Based on my research and theory, I am betting this is another one of their schemes to raise money. Did I mention that on BYPTSD the school principal gave all the parents and the students a three hours speech on the school’s status? When the assembly was over, all the little kindergarteners were forced to carry donation boxes with the slogan: Mommy and Daddy can help . 
The parents, not wanting to shame their children, were forced to donate through the art of pathos. BYPTSD is a simple process to earn quick, fast, and easy money.
You might assume that I was shamed because I didn’t have any parents. Ha ha you are wrong. Not only did I bring two persons to donate, I brought 20 persons. I actually won an award for the most donations by a single family. 
So how could this great this day affect me? Well on BYPTSD, the top student of each grade level was required to give a speech about their parents in front of the whole school. My bet is that this is another one of the tricks to make the assembly last longer and create more of that “pathos”. Well that year, yours truly was the top student of her class as expected of course. 
I wrote a speech about my many moms, how they contributed to my success, and why I love them, simple right?-not. After our speech we required to answer any possible questions that the audience might ask us. At the end of my speech, the audiences were left speechless, from the corners of my eyes I could see my twenty moms crying with tears of joy and love. Out of nowhere, there was a single hand that shot up from the third grade. Oh look one of my fellow classmates. I was surprised when a foreign voice asked the question. There were sixty kids in the third grade, and I knew all of their names and faces, this voice did not match any of them. Must be an imposer. Nevertheless, I politely asked him for the question. There was silence and a question that was never to be asked left his mouth.
“You didn’t mention a dad, you are smart so you must know that everyone has a mom and a dad. Where is your dad, do you even have a dad?”
I was shocked, I never thought of it that way before. It was always, I have lot of moms, the more the better. Dad? I don’t even know what is a dad, my friends mentioned it once but when they are around me they always make sure to not say it. For all that I know, a dad is a thing that lives with a mom. It could be a nickname for a dog, I don’t know. The audiences were staring at me and so I quickly answer, using the smartest voice I could imitate.
“My greatest apologies, I do not own a dad.”
Within a nanosecond, the whole quiet auditorium burst into laughters and giggles. Embarrassed, I ran down the stage and ran home, without a single bow. That day was also the first day I ditched school. I never went back. 
I ran with all the energy I had to no destination, my legs took me, like always to a tree in the middle of the park. I have always loved that tree for no apparent reason. I had no reason to love it, except for that fact that carved on that tree is a heart, and inside the heart in a much younger carved was a four letter word. Don’t start assuming yet, it is not what you think it is. Let me repeat, carved inside the heart was the word HOPE. The funny thing is that on the third Friday of every month a man and a woman, around the same age, would sit under the same tree for hours doing nothing. They never appear together, but it was always the same man and woman.
I sat under the tree and cried for what seemed like forever. “Why are you crying,” a soft unfamiliar voice asked. Without looking I answered, “I am not going back to this school.” “What school are you from?” “Obviously, the one closest to here.” “My daughter goes to that school.” “So aren’t you supposed to be there?” “I can’t.”
That was when it hit me, there was another person at my school whose dad didn’t show up. “It is okay, you don’t have to be there the audience is mean. They laughed at me when I said, “My greatest apologies, I do not own a dad.” Instead of laughing at me the young man was calm, he looked at me with a tender loving expression.
“You don’t have a dad?” He asked. I smiled and answered, “Yeah I don’t, but that is okay I have a lot of moms.” “And why is that?” “Don’t feel sorry for me, you promise?” “If you don’t want me too.” “I live in an orphanage.” “Oh I see, very interesting. Are you going to school tomorrow?” “No I won’t, it is okay. School is almost over, before I go can I ask you why you always go to this tree? And the lady too, are you guys related in a way?” “Um she is my wife, we are looking for our daughter.” “Ha ha you are too funny, you are too young to have kids. By the way trees don’t kidnap children. Don’t you have any logic?” “Well you are too young to understand, can I ask you your name?” “My name is on the tree.” The man looked at me with a startle wanting look, it was creepy. 
“I guess you better get going, you don’t want your moms to be angry. If you need anything just ask me. Here is my number. So call me maybe.”
“Yeah I need you for something, tomorrow can you come to the orphanage and be my teacher? This school is too embarrassing.”
“Tell you what tomorrow I will bring my wife, and we will take you home with us. You can go to a new school and restart your life. What do you think?”
“Are you a person who trades kids for money?” “No I am actually a Professor and my wife, she is an artist.”
“Okay I don’t believe you. I will believe you if you have proof and evidence. Well see you later future teacher!” 

I quickly ran home without giving him a chance to say goodbye. When I was running for a couple minutes I realized that I forgot my shoes by the tree. 

Yeah I know I am forgetful, it was so nice being shoeless and talking to that man.

- to be continue. yes there is more. just no want to post

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