Author: DuskLock PM
Didn't take a genius to figure out I was adopted. Finding out my real parents, nothing hard about that either. The hardest thing about all this will be on my 18th brithday when everything comes together. I am the only Daughter of Ipswitch that has ever survived, and I intend to keep surviving, no matter what.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Tyler S. - Chapters: 5 - Words: 8,952 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 25 - Updated: 12-09-12 - Published: 11-28-12 - id: 8746138
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I do not own anything except Renee/Royce and that lot. Enjoy Chapter 1!
My adoptive name is Renee O'Conner; my birth name is Royce Danvers. I was born December 8th, 1989 which makes me sixteen at the current moment. A few days after my sixteenth birthday, my parents decided the time was right to tell me I was adopted from a wealthy family in Ipswitch. Through a bit of hacking I was able to track down the records of my adoption and discovered my real parent's names. It wasn't easy since most things before computers were used got damaged or lost in a move or some kind of freak of nature weather accident.
However, thanks to the internet and Google and a bit of what I call luck, I found out that my birth father is deceased but my birth mother is still alive and lives in "the old homestead" in Ipswitch. From the information and the photos I found online, I can say that I look a lot like my birth mother. Well, I do have my father's blue eyes but, other than that, it looks like I'm just a younger version of Mrs. Danvers. I'm on the short side while both of my birth parents look on the taller side. Kinda weird but oh well, that's genetics for you.
I also discovered I have an older brother, Caleb Danvers, who is an ace in swimming. Ironic, huh? I mean, I hate the water and my older brother seems to really love it. Caleb looks a lot like a younger version or our father. Other than newspaper articles, I wasn't able to dig up much on him. Looks like I have a brother that walks the straight and narrow. How funny is that?
Turns out the that not only the Danvers but also the Garwin, Perry, Simms and Pope families are directly descended from the very ones that were persecuted during the Salem Witch Trials. All of the families live in the original houses, albeit they've had to be remodeled as the times have changed but, get this, they're supposed to have some sort of witchy powers. Or, so the stories go. They're called 'The Sons of Ipswitch.' Records only have one son being born into each family which is yeah, majorly weird right? Some family records that I could find show a couple girls being born but were put down as still born or having died from some sort illness that was going around at that time. Neither is too hard to believe given the condition of the times they were born into but only the girls and never the sons? Suspicious if you ask me. But that leaves the question, if all the daughters born to those families died one way or another, why was I still alive? Maybe they did have some sort of witchy powers that just weren't compatible with girls? (Now I sound like I'm on drugs…) Another thing I would just have to find out from my birth mother. (The thing about only having sons, not the witchy powers thing. Don't need more people thinking I'm loonier than a loony bin!) Maybe I should make a list of what I want to ask her about when I finally meet her? Nah, I would probably just lose it like I do almost everything else I deem important ha ha.
I was able to talk mom and dad into transferring me into Spencer's, saying that since I was planning on going to Princeton in a couple years I would have a better chance at getting in if I went to Spencer's. They didn't put up much of a fuss when I qualified for a full scholarship. I mean, it isn't like we're hard up for money and stuff; we have enough to live comfortably and have some fun every now and then. Only thing is, I'll be a mid-semester transfer. My public school and Spencer's had a small issue with transferring my credits but it worked out in my favor; it's looking like instead of entering as a junior as I would be in public school, I have enough credits to be half way through my junior year at Spencer's. Yay me!
And here comes the drag. My older brother, that is to say the son of my adoptive parents, decided to transfer with me. You know, to keep an eye on his "beloved little sister." Not really; he just wanted to live away from home so he didn't have to answer to our parents when he comes home after our set curfew of eleven. He'll be a senior but his credits all transferred no problemo so he got to start at the beginning of the fall semester. Lucky him.
I just hope that a summer spent researching my biological family and their history doesn't get me in trouble. How many times have I tried to find them and wound up on the receiving end of a lecture from an attorney or the police about hacking and whatnot? Yeah, I know, too many to really keep count of. (Hey now, before you go judging me, it isn't like I'm some sort of problem child or hooligan as my father calls them; I just don't like being told what not to do. It only makes me want to do it more, ya know?) But then, the question of why they adopted me out comes to mind. If they're as wealthy as they seem, they would have been able to take care of a son and a daughter, not just one. What was so wrong with me that they had to give me away? Did it have something to do with the fact that I was a year and some change old when the adoption papers were signed? Were they expecting me to just die of something like the others in the earlier generations had? More questions!
I guess I should quit writing and finish packing up my stuff. I'm due to check in with the Provost and admissions today and, being a typical teenage girl, I have a ton of stuff to take ha ha. I promise I'll write soon and let you know if I see any cute boys on campus wink wink!
I sighed as I closed my journal. My extended summer vacation was going to be over in a couple days and I was so not looking forward to it. I rolled over on my back, reveling in the softness of my mattress one last time before the drive up to Ipswitch. We did not live far from there; an hour's drive if you obeyed the speed limit, which I rarely did.
I had worked it out with the Provost of Spencer's to allow me to move in during the week so I could familiarize myself with the campus and crowds of students, along with the small town and outlying areas. He agreed, eager to have a top marks student in his school. That tomorrow I would be finalizing my schedule and starting classes the following week.
I sighed again and sat up when there was a knock at my door.
"It's open," I said in a sing song voice.
My adoptive mother walked in, sad smile gracing her pretty heart shaped face. "Are you all packed up?" She was always a quiet person; even now her voice was barely above a whisper.
I smiled as I stretched. "Pretty much, I just need to pack my pillows in the car as well as some other things I used last night and today. I'll probably be ready to go in an hour tops. I'll stop by the study and let you know before I take off."
My adoptive mom, Melanie, nodded and told me if I needed help to come grab her. After receiving a nod from me, she exited my room. I hopped off my bed and began gathering some of my knick knacks and placing them in the already half full box at the foot of my bed. Once it was full I closed the top and taped it shut. I pulled a Sharpie from my handbag and wrote "FRAGILE" on three sides of the box.
'Now no one can say they didn't know!' I thought happily as I clicked the cap back on. I then slid the box outside to the hall and reentered my room.
I grabbed the drawstring bag I had set on the night stand and began to fill it with the essentials: hair straightener, brush, mousse, phone charger… Things of that nature. I pulled the strings and tossed the bag over a shoulder. Slipping my phone in my back pocket, I picked up a couple of my pillows and stood in the doorway of my room. I had spent almost my entire life here and now, just a few months shy of turning seventeen, I was leaving.
I looked around at the now bare walls and remembered all the crazy fun I had with my best friend Chelsea McGuire. Tears came to my eyes when I remembered how she had reacted when I told her I was not coming back to school and was going to a private school instead. We had vowed we would pull the best senior prank ever! and would go to our Senior Prom as a doubles date. She reacted almost as badly as my now ex-boyfriend, Marky Alder. He did not want to even try a long distance relationship which made it seem as though he really did not care about me at all. But, at least I was starting a new school available. (Although I'm not entirely sure it's such a good idea.)
I flipped off the lights and closed the door and turned to the box beside me. After a couple failed attempts at picking it up I bounded downstairs into the living room.
"Hey pop?" I asked, leaning over the back of the couch beside my father.
"Yes cracker?" he asked back, muting his law show.
"Um I have a really heavy box upstairs outside my door-"
"And you need me to carry it out to your car, right?" he finished, looking at me. I gave him a sheepish grin and shrugged. Cliff was a solid built man, standing well over six feet tall but he was putty in his darling daughter's hands, or so mom and pops always said. He chuckled and turned off the television.
"All right, I'll go up and get it cracker. Go ahead and take your other stuff out and say bye to your mother."
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and gave his messy red hair a kiss. "Thanks pops! You really are the best!" He reached up and patted my arms, shaking his head.
I walked out to the carport and stuffed my pillows in my open trunk and tossed the drawstring bag in the front seat. On the way back in I directed pops to the trunk, my back seat already stuffed with boxes and a few blankets. Before I walked back in the house I thought I heard him mumble something about silly putty.
In the study I found my mother flipping through pictures of me when I was a toddler.
"Mom?" I asked in a quiet voice from the doorway. She looked up and smiled.
"My little one isn't so little anymore is she? Just promise that when you meet your birth mother that you won't forget about Cliff and I."
I rolled my eyes and leaned against the door jam. "How could I forget about the two amazing people that adopted me and raised me as their own?"
Melanie just shook her head, "You would be surprised Renee, you would be surprised."
I scrunched my nose at her. Always the quiet pessimist but I loved her all the same, "Well, I'm about to head off. Just need to grab a water and a small snack and I'll be on my way."
Melanie nodded and closed the photo album. She stood and walked over to me. With her arm around my shoulders we walked me to the kitchen. While I stopped at the fridge to grab a bottle of water and a couple granola bars, Melanie went on outside. I sighed as I stood and leaned against the fridge and took in the kitchen. Who knew when I would come back here? Yes, I love Mel and Cliff but honestly, they have been way too over protective. Maybe that was what Mel meant in the study.
Shaking my head I walked back outside and met up with Mom and Pops. After a couple tearful hugs and goodbye's, I was in my 2006 Cherry Red Ford Mustang GT, a late birthday present from the three O'Conners, and on my way to Spencer's.