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“Pick a name.” they said glaring into my eyes to my soul.
The paper was slapped down on the table and I could feel my chair rumble when the officer had put it there. I kept a straight face looking at her with innocent eyes unknowing which name I would choose.
“D, or H.” she repeated.
I bit my lip.
How was I suppose to know which name I should choose? If I picked one I would be torn between the other.
My answer came as a shrug. He face looked flustered now.
“Can’t I just wear both?” he face scrunched in anger.
“Both? Wear? You speak as if you can just put one name around your neck and wear it as a necklace! Well missy that’s not how things work!”
I flinched and then rubbed my arm looking at the two names printed on the paper. My eyes went back and forth to each one and I dug my thumb into the side of my arm nervously pondering which I’d choose…permanently.
“Your father’s name? or your mothers?” she hissed.
I shrugged again with sore eyes.
“You think this is a game?! It’s a simple question!,”
no it wasn’t.
“Mom, or dad!”
I glanced up at her and touched both of the papers and the empty lines where my signature would have to go. My parents had already signed both papers, now I suppose it was up to their desperate kid.
All the pressure of the world was on me, my life would change drastically.
If I chose one side of the family the other would be torn and taken out of my life.
A mother has unconditional love for their child and has been there since birth, but lately she was screaming at me for things I didn’t do.
A father had unconditional love for his little girl and it was rare for kids to go with their dads at divorce’s but, once he got married to a snobby woman I didn’t see him for five years till now.
I was so scared.
Should I go with the croon? Or go with the missing father who just happened to mysteriously come back into my life again.
Which to choose…which to choose…?
I felt like my entire soul and being was breaking, my heart hurt and I felt a heavy burden lay across my shoulders.
The woman was staring at me waiting for my answer.
I had always been a Doetry. In fact, I was the only Doetry in the ‘Haller’ family. It made me sick. I think my uncle hated me because my last name was different from his. There was always feuds between the Doetry’s and Haller’s. How could anyone make their child do this?
My sanity began ripping apart and
I held my head.
I loved my dad.
I loved my mother.
But which one?
I picked up the pen and shakily scribbled my name onto the overly bright paper and sighed my signature.
How could I ever part with the other? My parents made up each side of myself. My right side, my mom, my left my dad, take one away and the body eventually dies.
I sighed and dropped the pen listening to it roll off the table and smash hard into the floor.
The officer nodded and grabbed the paper that I had signed and then back out of the room shutting the door.
I listened to the officers muffled voice outside the room.
The windows and the office were black, everything seemed eerie and gut-wrenching.
I heard both my parents muffled screaming outside the doorway. One was yelling the other was crying tears of joy and being accused of manipulating and brainwashing me.
This lasted three hours.
I heard their voices lower and then feet angrily pad away.
The door unlocked and my mom looked down at my broken self with a smile.
I shook my head at her and placed my head in my hands. I loved my dad, but if he really loved me, he’d let me go. I didn’t like his new wife, she was always mean to me, always forcing me to eat foods I hated or try and push me out of the picture. She hated me. I hated her.
I was now known as Kaylah Haller. I always have been a Doetry, always. Since birth. I sucked in my breath.
I was known as Kaylah Haller…but I’ll always be Kaylah M. Doetry Haller