I was lucky I was wearing the shirt I was. It was the only thing that told the police officers my name: Bianca.
They did some genetic testing on me, but it didn’t work. The machine didn’t work and they couldn’t find my parents. In the meantime, I was adopted. Melinda and Jeff Graph.
We were a happy family, we loved each over and everything.
Until the phone call when I was eleven.
They trusted me with a home phone in my room that I frequently evesdropped with out of curiosity, so I knew what the other side said.
“Hello, is this the residence of Bianca-?” The mans voice on the other side of the phone asked, cutting himself out as if he had been about to say something else but stopped himself.
“Uh, Yes.” Melinda answered, confused.
“This is Green Hills orphanage calling about her genetic testing.”
“So?” My adopted mother asked anxiously.
“Her testing came in, and it’s... interesting.”
“What is it? Who are her parents? Are they taking her back?” My stomach leapt with hope. Could I finally meet my parents ?
“No, they’re dead.” They answered the last question and my stomach plummeted and my eyes filled with tears.
“Oh.” Melinda sounded surprised. “But who are they?”
“Barry and Bethany Brimstone.” Came the shocking reply.
The Brimstones?! I’m a Brimstone?! I can’t be, there has to be a mistake.
Who are the Brimstones, you ask?
The Brimstones, my friend, are the worlds best Olympians. They had the option to compete in every sport in the Olympics. And did, I may add. They broke at least one record in each sport and gained every possible gold medal before their sudden and mysterious deaths.
They never had a kid, did they? I asked myself, confused. I shake it off. They obviously had. A loud beep sounded in my ear, making me jump.
I set the phone down when I realized I had missed the rest of the conversation and they had hung up.
The Brimstones. Wow.
I thought as I fell asleep that night without a thought on how this would change things.
I felt a tiny bit of split loyalties after that.
But it wasn’t till The call of when I was 13 that the family fell apart.
“May I speak to the head of the household?” The voice didn’t wait for her to say hello.
“Speaking.” She replied. Mr. Graph had just had a stroke and couldn’t quite speak.
“I am calling about Bianca.” I perked up at this, holding the phone a little closer to my ear.
“Let me guess, your from GSGL.” She replied dryly, and it wasn’t a question. “I won’t sell her to you. Nothing is worth breaking the family apart.” My eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head. Sell me?! I forced myself to continue listening.
“We’re offering one million.” The voice made their offer.
I could feel my moms eyes getting cold, like they were a winter draft that went through the house.
It doubled with mine as she answered.
“Sold.” She replied confidently.
“Ok, we have a few questions for you. Has she played any sports?”
“She swam for a little when she was twelve, but she was so much better than the others her age we pulled her out.”
“Is she in shape? Is she claustrophobic?”
“Yes, she’s in shape, and no shes not claustrophobic. Why?”
“She’ll be going through some physical testing and will be living in a glass tube for the next ten years. Thank you, the money will show up in your bank account as soon as we pick her up, which will be tomorrow evening.” Then they hung up.
So here I am, packing a few belongings into my black swim bag and plotting a way to get back at my parents, but knowing I never would.
They did some genetic testing on me, but it didn’t work. The machine didn’t work and they couldn’t find my parents. In the meantime, I was adopted. Melinda and Jeff Graph.
We were a happy family, we loved each over and everything.
Until the phone call when I was eleven.
They trusted me with a home phone in my room that I frequently evesdropped with out of curiosity, so I knew what the other side said.
“Hello, is this the residence of Bianca-?” The mans voice on the other side of the phone asked, cutting himself out as if he had been about to say something else but stopped himself.
“Uh, Yes.” Melinda answered, confused.
“This is Green Hills orphanage calling about her genetic testing.”
“So?” My adopted mother asked anxiously.
“Her testing came in, and it’s... interesting.”
“What is it? Who are her parents? Are they taking her back?” My stomach leapt with hope. Could I finally meet my parents ?
“No, they’re dead.” They answered the last question and my stomach plummeted and my eyes filled with tears.
“Oh.” Melinda sounded surprised. “But who are they?”
“Barry and Bethany Brimstone.” Came the shocking reply.
The Brimstones?! I’m a Brimstone?! I can’t be, there has to be a mistake.
Who are the Brimstones, you ask?
The Brimstones, my friend, are the worlds best Olympians. They had the option to compete in every sport in the Olympics. And did, I may add. They broke at least one record in each sport and gained every possible gold medal before their sudden and mysterious deaths.
They never had a kid, did they? I asked myself, confused. I shake it off. They obviously had. A loud beep sounded in my ear, making me jump.
I set the phone down when I realized I had missed the rest of the conversation and they had hung up.
The Brimstones. Wow.
I thought as I fell asleep that night without a thought on how this would change things.
I felt a tiny bit of split loyalties after that.
But it wasn’t till The call of when I was 13 that the family fell apart.
“May I speak to the head of the household?” The voice didn’t wait for her to say hello.
“Speaking.” She replied. Mr. Graph had just had a stroke and couldn’t quite speak.
“I am calling about Bianca.” I perked up at this, holding the phone a little closer to my ear.
“Let me guess, your from GSGL.” She replied dryly, and it wasn’t a question. “I won’t sell her to you. Nothing is worth breaking the family apart.” My eyes felt like they were bulging out of my head. Sell me?! I forced myself to continue listening.
“We’re offering one million.” The voice made their offer.
I could feel my moms eyes getting cold, like they were a winter draft that went through the house.
It doubled with mine as she answered.
“Sold.” She replied confidently.
“Ok, we have a few questions for you. Has she played any sports?”
“She swam for a little when she was twelve, but she was so much better than the others her age we pulled her out.”
“Is she in shape? Is she claustrophobic?”
“Yes, she’s in shape, and no shes not claustrophobic. Why?”
“She’ll be going through some physical testing and will be living in a glass tube for the next ten years. Thank you, the money will show up in your bank account as soon as we pick her up, which will be tomorrow evening.” Then they hung up.
So here I am, packing a few belongings into my black swim bag and plotting a way to get back at my parents, but knowing I never would.
Mon Sep 05, 2016 4:33 pm by SilverFlight
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