I had been acting differently, and my parents had finally taken notice. So one day they sat me down, and told me something that I never would have thought to hear, and that’s when my world became more than I ever imagined. I had always gotten comments like, “You don’t look much like your parents!” Or, “Wow, you’re gonna be taller than anyone else in the whole family!” So, I guess in a hypothetical sense it did cross my mind, but to hear it was unfathomable. But, with me sitting on the brown leathered chair across from my straight-faced parents, they told me, on November 3rd, that I was adopted. After hearing those three words, my mind was in a tunnel and I could see them talking with sympathy in their eyes but my ears heard nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat racing.
I found myself in the exact same position I was in almost a year ago,  with my head on my pillow and my mind feeling crowded with emotions and thoughts but at the same time I was drawing a blank when my mouth tried to produce any noise. My parents let me go to my room after their long speech about how they loved me and I said it back, still meaning it. The days went on, and I had accepted that conversation and who I used to be. They would ask if I had questions, I’d say no. They would ask if I wanted to see pictures of my old foster home, I said no. I didn’t want to see anything before them, until I saw the square becoming more and more evident on my skin and the initials “A.M” appearing through the middle like a reversed tattoo.
    It was then I decided I would have to find out what had happened to me, because wherever I was before and whoever I was with has to know about what is going on. So, I spent exactly a week planning every aspect of my escape and saving up enough money for the impending bus rides and motel stays. I had decided to leave on a Sunday. My family always goes to our local Christian Church on Sundays, and I knew if I told them I didn’t feel well I would end up being alone at the house for a few hours the upcoming day, and that was enough time to go without anyone catching me. It was now saturday night, and my plan was already in gear as I started coughing and told my mother I didn’t want dinner, this was going to make tomorrow's sickness much more believable. Sure enough, on Sunday morning when I told her I still wasn’t feeling well and I didn’t think I could go to church, she said it was okay and they headed off around 9am. Okay, “I have three hours to get out of here”, I thought to myself.
Getting all the supplies I thought I needed. Including a flashlight, a waterbottle, and anything else I thought I would use for my grand escape, I was ready. With 120 dollars in my wallet and my keys in my pocket for when I return, I left down the driveway of my childhood home. Looking down at the dusty and dried out driveway, I remembered every car ride to the local fair and every bike race with my brother (some ending in emergency room trips.) The memories were brought with happiness and love but I knew I had a different past I didn’t remember, and I had a feeling it wasn’t full of happy memories. Walking down the driveway I felt as if I was betraying the ones who truly cared about me, but I knew this was something I had to do.
There was a bus stop a mile or so away from my house, and that was my planned form of transportation out of the town, which would take me to yet another bus. The only thing I knew about my past is that I used to live in Seattle. I lived in Portland Oregon now, which I knew was about four hours by various busses (thanks Google Maps.) With that, I made it to the first bus stop, handing the bus driver my $2.50 for an all day pass. I got on the bus, still seeing my home in the distance down the driveway I had walked down and wondered when I would see it again. I guess only time would tell. I had put in my headphones, and put on my mother's favorite album by Fleetwood Mac while I tried to suppress the anxiety and fear bubbling up in my stomach long enough to get to my next stop, and I did. I got on bus after bus, until finally the final bus dropped me off at the Seattle Bus Station.

I got off, and I was immediately overwhelmed by the skyscrapers and fast-paced people not even giving me a second look. I had no plan after this, because I had no memory of Seattle or direction telling me where to begin. But, I did have a old picture of my foster home that my parents asked if I wanted to see. I said no the first time, but before I left I stole it from a box in their closet in hopes to ask someone there if they remembered me or my parents in the foster home. So, with the picture as a reference, I headed out into the city to find the building I had been in as a child before my adoptive parents found me. I must have walked around the city for hours, only exploring a small portion of it because of its enormous size. But, when I was on the verge of giving up I saw the building in the picture. It was much more run-down and not as well kept but I knew it was the one. I walked across the street, practically walking into everyone around me as I was too focused on the answers inside, and walked in to find anything but a foster home.
It had since become a library, filled with thousands of books from floor to ceiling and levels of shelfs. After trying to figure out my next move, I decided I should go to the librarian that had been staring at me since I walked in.
“Excuse me Miss, can you uh- tell me where the foster home that used to be here moved to?” I asked, looking down at my photograph thinking I might have the wrong building and trying not to make eye contact to prohibit myself from seeing her future as I did every bus driver on the way here.
“Well it didn’t move anywhere young lady. After 2004 it got shut down and now it’s the largest library in Seattle! But, if you look in the historical section here you can find a few records and books on the place, that is, if you’re interested in it.” The older woman said with a bit of hesitation due to my lack of eye contact and anxious mannerisms.
“Thank you Ma’am!”     I say, and with that I rushed myself quickly to every section until I came across the historical books and pulled out every one on the foster home. I sat on the floor and read for hours and hours finding nothing useful until I came across these words,
“Children coming to this foster home were all believed to be coming from government-employed parents who had previously had experiments done on their own children and put them in the world to further their research. This led to the closing of the Seattle Children's Foster Home in July 2004 and no reports of such behavior has been reported since. Some children are said to reside in a small building in Seattle by the old cafes and bookstores, telling stories and experiences of their own defects brought on by their parents. Once in awhile a new child will emerge and join them, these are called “Trial Children”.”
It was then I knew what to do, I had to go see those other children if I ever wanted to find out what was wrong with me. So I put away all the books and thanked the librarian on the way out who I'm pretty sure didn’t even know I was still there. The book said it was in the old district, so I hopped on yet another bus. They dropped me off as far as it went which seemed only a few blocks from my destination based on the description. I walked with my backpack hanging off my shoulder and my eyes tired from the hours of reading until I came across a seemingly abandoned building with five or six teenagers standing around it, all looking distraught as they seemed to be watching out for someone.

I walked over to them, seeing one with a walking stick seeming to be blind and one with one too many fingers on each hand, but the rest seemed normal at first glance. I crossed the street and it seemed they immediately knew who I was, as they rushed over to me and the apparent leader looked right into my eyes, showing me his future, I was on the verge of tears seeing the shortness of his young life.
“What did you just see?” He asked, seeming to already know.
“What? Nothing, who are you?” I asked frantically, taking a step back.
“You know who I am, who we are. I know what you saw too. You’re the vision girl, you were the last Trial Child to join us, kid. Youngest one too. Hi, I’m Devon. What’s your real name, vision girl?” He says, almost taunting my shyness.
“Um. I’m Tatiana. How do you know that much about me?”
“We all came from the same place, Tatiana. We just have different defects. I for one have the ability to hear anyones thoughts at any given time, and yes. This is my natural hair color.” Devon jokes, referring to the rambling thoughts in my mind as I examined his bleach blond hair and crystal almost translucent eyes.
That was when I found out everything I ever wondered after that first terrible day on my 14th birthday. They sat me in a circle in a practically empty living room and told me everything they knew and how they had waited for me to find them for years. I felt at home there, and although I loved my parents at home very much there was something different about them. I felt safe, and like my visions did not make me a freak like I felt at home. So, I stayed. I occasionally wrote my family letters telling them I was okay and please do not look for me, and they understood because they knew what I was. When they told me they knew I was angry because they never told me but I also understood why they did it. With the help of the Trial Children, we found a book of extraction methods for the chip in each of us and one by one we helped each other extract the chips from in our wrists.
I have lived here for many years, and I have never felt more at home. I am staring at the scar in a small mirror and I am standing around people with the same scar. We are not bound by our parents and we are not Trials. I am looking at this scar as a memory of my greatest adventure and my family I left behind. I miss my family, my brother and my mother most of all. But I was never alone here, and my family wanted what was best for me. As I stand here looking at this scar, I do not see a wound, I see a story, and I hope one day everyone will know the story of the Trial Children.