“Honey, we’re not your real parents” Her mother said, her eyes growing tired.
“I’m. .. You’re. .” Was all Melanie could say. So She was kidnapped. . . “So I was kid-”
“-our granddaughter” Her father, or, Gary said.
Melanie felt a moment of shock before she could speak. “You’re my grandparents?”
“Yes” her 'parents' said in unison.
“Wait, then, that means, I’m. . woah. .explain this please” Melanie said, feeling angry suddenly.
“We oughta sit down for this” Julie said, looking at her husband. He nodded. Melanie followed them into the living room, bewildered.
“Ok, I’m ready” Melanie said, sitting across from them on the white leather couch. Her parents, sitting side by side on the matching loveseat looked at each other and held hands.
Slowly the mystery began to unfold. Piece by piece. Julie and Gary Parker had married young, since Julie was already pregnant with her baby, Annibell Julie Marie Parker the Second, named after her mother. They bought a rather large house in the South of France, where Gary Parker, military officer, was stationed. They moved around frequently, and Julie Parker was begining to notice her daughter was having trouble adjusting more and more. Though Annibell Julie Marie, called Ann for short, was gorgeous, she wasn’t making friends with the right crowd, often referred to as ‘the popular crowd’. She got involved with drugs and at the age of 16 ran away from home.
“We didn’t know where she was. We were in the middle of England, and she’s gone” Julie said, her eyes tearing at the memory of her beloved daughter.
“A year later she came home, holding a little girl, you” Gary said. “We then learned that she had used her credit card, flown to the United States, and got pregnant. Two months earlier we had gotten a bill from the airline for a two way flight to the United States.” He choked on his words. Melanie wondered if her mom had brought her here, then where was she? Gary continued “10 months later we came home to find her dead, stabbed to death, and you were laying in the floor beside her, crying.” Gary held his sobbing wife, and turned his head away so Melanie barely glimpsed the tears falling down his cheeks. She stood up quietly and slipped silently out of the room. So her mother was dead, her father unknown. She was parentless.

As Melanie walked upstairs to her room the phone rang, jerking her back into reality “Hello?”
“Melanie?” the voice brought chills to her spine. She knew that voice.
It was her own.

2000 Sparkie

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