’an unfortunate mistake’ — those three words marked your life before you were even able to take your first breath into the world. you were nothing more than the consequence of lust and curiosity, the aftermath of two curious teenagers and one too many cups of spiked punch. your mother had been naive, hopelessly blind by the sweet lies spilling from your father’s lips. it all sounded much too good to be true, which of course, it was. she was nothing more than a damn fool to believe she’d get her happy ever after. but dreaming was the only way she was able to survive. she dreamed of a better tomorrow, a better life, far away from the poverty she was born into. she refused to let destiny repeat itself, refusing to become a single mother at only sixteen like her own mother. she was better than that, she had more promise than that. yet, it was fate that decided otherwise ..
the little pink cross was the first crack in her world, knowing everything was about to change. the second was the reaction of those closest to her. the disappointment in their eyes assuring her that she’d just thrown away her future. her mother cried, screaming at her as she tried to understand how she could have been so reckless; her best friend shook her head, finding it easier to walk away than to stand by her side. still she tried to remain hopeful without knowing the worst was yet to come. but it was your father’s reaction that absolutely shattered her world. he wanted nothing to do with either of you, assuring her that he was not the father, before kindly suggesting that she should ‘get rid of it’.
she did not ‘get rid of it’, at least not in the way he had suggested. because even though your mother tried, the time for you to go your separate ways eventually came. a decision that’ll haunt her till the end of her days and one you’ll never understand. how could she just have left you like that? abandoned you with nothing but a blanket, a stuffed animal, and a letter at the doorsteps of a firehouse? had she no heart? did she not love you? well, the truth is: she did. it was out of love that she decided to leave you that fateful winter night. she had tried for months to give you a life worth living, attempting to start a new life, just the two of you, as she ran from home. ultimately, she failed. you cried so much, you rarely ate, and you never slept. she was way in over her head and she eventually, she had to admit defeat. her mother, your grandmother, would only take her back if you weren’t in the picture. ‘out of sight, out of mind’, she assured, wanting things to go back to how they once were before her unexpected pregnancy. with no other options, she accepted, telling herself that it was for the best and that you’d find a loving home that could actually provide for you.
unconsolable wails were what caught the attention of those inside. you were hungry, after all. it’d been at least a couple of hours since your mother had left you to fend on your own. you were a mystery that needed to be solved but not before you were taken care of. nurses tended to your every cry as police officers tried to track down where you came from. their only lead being a letter your mother wrote to you to read someday. a dead end is what it was and soon enough you became the state’s problem.
at least that’s what they believed would be your worst case scenario. many, if not all, the adults who came across your case were absolutely certain you’d be adopted in no time. after all, who didn’t want a perfectly healthy and happy baby to mold to their liking? well, unfortunately in your case, no one seemed to be the answer. your early years were spent being bounced around from one prospective parent to the next. sure, they were all over you, even then you had a charm about you that was undeniable, but for one reason or another, the adoption always fell through up until you began to fade into the background and stopped being an option.
you were around five when you began to put the pieces together. no matter how much you tried to win their affection, it was never enough. there was someone who was always cuter, always younger, always more adoptable. they didn’t want you, they never would but that never stopped you from trying. you treated every person that would walk through those doors with the uttermost kindness and respect, always flashing them the sweetest of smiles, asking them questions about themselves, trusting them with your hopes and dreams. you’d ask them to play dolls with you, draw them a picture of a possible future together, share your snacks with them — you did anything and everything you could to find a home.
you tried your best, you really did, but you know that calling you the ‘perfect child’ would be an absolute lie. see, you were marked. marked by the words of a father who wanted nothing to do with you, marked by a mother’s action who thought she was doing what was best. it was your deep seeded anger that betrayed you as you grew up. you were like a time bomb, ticking away until at the most unexpected time, you’d finally explode. the tantrums seemed endless — screaming, kicking, crying. you had the face of an angel and the wrath of the devil. sure, it’d take a lot to make you mad but when you were, it was as if all you saw was red and anyone ready to cross you would pay a terrible price.
you were placed in therapy because of this. the source of this innate anger being due to abandonment issues as they called it. you went with it because you had no choice, trying your best to keep your temper in check. it worked, for the most part, as the tantrums became less and less frequent. while the emotions may have been overwhelming at times, you learned how to use your words to express your feelings. and you never did shy away from expressing how much you wanted a family.
you never lost hope but you were also smart enough to divert you attention elsewhere when another bed was left empty reminding you that yours was still warm. you made friends with the rest of the kids at the orphanage, spending your time playing outside with them or inside watching cartoons. as you grew older, your interests changed. you went through a phase where all you wanted to do was play video games, another where you were obsessed fashion and dress up, but perhaps the longest phase wasn’t a phase at all.
five seemed to be the magical age for you, when you started to understand your surroundings a bit better. who you were, where you were, and who were those that surrounded you. just like your mother, you decided to make best of what was thrown at you but unlike her, you also decided you would try to help others make best of their situation as well. so you took on the role as ‘mother hen’ for as long as you could, which wasn’t long at all. while compassionate and warm, you did not hold the patience nor the temper to fill those shoes. but don’t worry, you found your place soon enough.
it was arts and craft time with a group of others your age when you first showed signs of the hero you were destined to become. you watched as one kid ruined another’s artwork in a fit of jealousy, something which you had no tolerance for. you protested against his actions, telling him how it wasn’t very nice. he laughed in your face, ripping apart your artwork too, so you kicked him in the leg. he never bothered you again, too bad it took a little longer for the rest of the bullies to realize their reign of terror was up.
you grew into a vigilante of sorts — a protector to those who couldn’t protect themselves and a nightmare for those who wished to terrorize. you were ready to fight the injustices of the world, even if it meant you’d end up bloodied and bruised. but as you grew older, you grew stronger, and the less unscathed you’d come out from it. however, that didn’t mean you never got in trouble for any of it. often were the times where your tv privileges were taken away and dessert was forfeited in an attempt to lure you from fighting. much to their dismay, it never worked. see, those were superficial things when compared to the safekeeping and tranquility of others. your reward was knowing that there was (somewhat ) peace at the orphanage and that you were keeping others safe. it was a role you were prepared to fulfill up unti you turned eighteen and your time at the orphanage was up. a plan that was cut short by many years.
the professor took you by surprise to say the least. he was just as kind and friendly as you were, though a bit skittish and erratic but he made you laugh, genuinely laugh, and that was something new. you ended up talking to him for hours, up until it was time to get ready for bed. he wished you a good night and promised he’d come back. you were excited, hoping that this was it, that you’d finally found yourself a real family. disappointment hit when a week passed and he was nowhere to be seen. you were almost ready to call it good when he came back, apologizing profusely as he told you about his science experiment gone wrong. days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and you were sure this was it — this was yourparent .. and you were right.
they asked for your opinion, if you’d want them as a parent. then, they told you about how you weren’t the only one they were adopting from the orphanage. blossom and buttercup were coming too, they were going to be your sisters! your heart practically beat out of your chest from all the excitement. finally, a family to call your own! the process seemed to take forever, after all, you’d been waiting for this for forever. soon enough you said goodbye to the place you reluctantly called home for your entire life up to that point, as you were ready to begin a new chapter in your life.
all went well and it wasn’t long before you found your spot in your perfect little unconventional family. you became ‘the baby’ of the three, more so because of your childlike manner rather than your age. you were the one whose head was and still is always up in the clouds, the sensitive one ready to embrace those in need of a hug or shoulder to cry on. though, it felt as if you went from being the protector to the protected, at least at first. with blossom being the one to take charge and buttercup the one to pack a punch before asking any questions, it left you to being the one who was being taken care of.
being part of the girl gang helped you cope with these feelings. knowing that to this day, you still look out for those who are innocent and vulnerable. it makes you feel as strong as you felt back in the orphanage, maybe even stronger knowing you’re fighting crime with your sisters. the three of you work hard to ensure that the streets of hermosa are safe and you take great pride in that. while being looked at as a ‘local superhero’ is a title you wear with great honor, it’s the fact that blossom and buttercup are always at your side that make it worth it. not to mention that you have the world’s most supportive parent. which, just like that, makes everything you’ve been worth it, knowing you wouldn’t change it for the world .. or would you?
