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Whenever people find out that my brother and I are adopted they always ask the same question. “Where are you from?” “How old were you when you were adopted?” “Who are your Real Parents?” After you hear them 9 thousand billion times they start to sound fucking stupid, don’t you agree? I mean, is it so hard to think that we were born a few towns over?? And people call us dumb? At least we can actually imagine that not everyone is from some far off place. Being abandoned isn’t fucking special, it sucks. We aren’t some special kids brought over from candy who will end up having to go on some magical quest to save our estranged parents because they sent us away to save our lives from some evil villain or whatever. I try to look on the bright side of things!! I do...but sometimes you have to look at the reality. We are just 2 kids who got the short end of the stick.
Here is the real story of an adopted kid. I’m from Victoria Grove, don’t remember when or where I was because I was a baby and not a super genius. We don’t know where, why, or how we were adopted. It just happened. We lived with this uber-rich family until we were 9. There is no point in saying their names because they were assholes and don’t deserve to be named here. They basically wanted kids so that they could show off to their friends at parties or whatever. We had to wear these stupid clothes that were so uncomfortable and itchy that you just wanted to burn them. At least they had pockets. We ended up making these parties into a game, whoever could get the most food and jewelry by the end of the night wins. It was so much fun because it was just the two of us. You never know how freeing breaking the rules can be until you actually do it. Of course, they found out and after an argument...we left.
We got into some bad things...I know it is a stereotype that kids who have shitty or absent parents are criminals but what were we supposed to do? Go back into the system that will send us back to the house where we were walking furniture? Or maybe they will take note of how shitty things were for us and send us off into foster care which is a whole other shitshow. We didn’t want to be separated. We were the only family that we had. We aren’t bad. We only lived with...No, worked with him because he was the only one who was willing to take us in without telling the cops. He seemed to care about us, taught us how to steal properly, how to use our similarities to our advantage. We owed him everything. When we were 10, things got worse. There was yelling and just...bad things that I don’t want to talk about…
I met dad first. I was running onto the train and I ended up running into him. It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention, but he apologized and offered me tea. I was already late for a meeting with Him, but I promised to come back. I wasn't planning on keeping my promise, Jer and I met him and mum again by accident. They saw that we were...a bit roughed up and basically made us get tea, but it wasn’t bad in any way. It was one of the best days ever. They barely even knew us but...they were so nice and caring and warm. No one was ever like that before. Jenny and Skimble adopted us by the time we were 12 but you know that. And you know all about what happened with Macavity.
Munk, I know that you asked me and Jerrie to write this, but please don’t show anyone else. I know I was vague but...there are some things I still don’t want everyone to know everything yet, I know they should know but I don’t think I’m ready. But thank you, it was nice to actually tell someone who wasn’t there about everything. -Rumpleteazer (Also, whoever took the nice blankets...it wasn't me)