They say don't go looking for things if you don't really know the answer. Once I saw the picture and the caption, I should have just let it go.
You see all of my life (as far back as I can remember) I have never felt like I belonged with my family. I can't complain though, it just has always been a constant feeling. I look nothing like my parents or any of my siblings for starters. I mean not even the smallest resemblance to any of them. I've asked time and time again whether I am adopted and the answer is always "no", " of course not", "don't be silly" or the classic " you just look different because you're special. "
Then one day while looking in the garage for things to put out for the yard sale, I came across a box that I had never seen before. On the top of the box was a laminated picture of a newborn, underneath it was a single word "Precious". A small knot was starting to form in my stomach as I ran my fingers across the photo. Why wasn't this box up in the attic with the rest of our baby stuff? I made sure neither of my parents were watching before I picked up the box and went to my room. Once I was inside the safe space of my room I locked the door and placed the box on the foot of my bed. I plopped down next to it and just stared at its side for a moment. Did I really want to open this box or did I want to put it back where I found it?
Who knows when I would have another opportunity like this? I was just going to go with my gut and my gut said to open up the box and find out what's inside. Exhaling, I placed my hands on the box and opened it up slowly, trying not to rip the box. On top of everything was a newspaper article, the title read “missing newborn still not found, parents are starting to lose hope.” As I ran my fingers across the article a slight chill went up my arm. I gently removed the newspaper and set it on the side of the box. A hospital bracelet was the next thing to grab my attention.
The bracelet was so tiny that it was obvious it belonged to a newborn. I gently picked it up and turned it around in my hands to see if the name and date of birth were still visible. The bracelet read “Evelyn Allison Turner born April 4th, 1990 at 3:00am.” I let out a small gasp as I dropped the bracelet back into the box. I was born on April 4th, 1990 at 3:00am, the name on the tag was also somewhat similar to mine. Maybe I was just overthinking the whole thing but I needed to know more. There is no way possible that this missing baby could be me. I need answers but how do I even bring this up to my parents?
A knock on the door pulled me from my thought process. “Evie, are you in there? Come downstairs, we need your help with something.” yelled my mom through my bedroom door.
“Here I come!” I responded as I put everything back in the box and put it in the back of my closet under one of my blankets.
