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I stood up, tears streaming down my face
“Why!?” I yelled
My mom simply shook her head,
“Your father said you were mine, I didn’t know until we got home.”
“He is not my father!” I screamed.
My mother had just told me that I wasn’t actually her daughter, she said my father had kidnapped me when her child had died.
“He is the man that stole my life away from me!”
My fake-mother shakes her head, tears silently falling.
“Wasn’t he a good father though? We have taken care of you for years, years!”
“Oh my gosh, you still think that you did the right thing!? You didn’t! All you did was steal an innocent child from her family!”
My mother steps away from me, fear written on her face. It’s probably because my hands had burst into flames.
“I have no idea who I am now!” I cried, anger coursing through my veins.
“My parents, my real parents could have told me why I can do this!” I said, looking down at my burning hands.
“They could have showed me how to control it! What if they were like me!?” I look away from her, wanting to get out of here, wanting to find my real family.
“And, no he wasn’t a good father, when he realized what I could do, he left us!”
I turned away running towards the door.
I didn’t wait though, instead I kept running, my hands still burning with my anger. I wasn’t sure were I was going, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to run away from all the lies that surrounded me, that kept me prisoner. After a while my hands burnt out, my anger turned into sadness, and hatred. Hatred for the people that took me away from my family.
“I’ll find them” I whispered.
After a few blocks I noticed that a white car had been following me. I kept my head down, preparing to ignite my hands if necessary. Suddenly the car stopped, both doors opened.
“Here we go.” I said my hands bursting into flames.