11Her boyfriend Dameon slipped his hand into hers and began to lead her off the sidewalk and onto the icy road. The four of them stepped off their safety and had barely gone four feet across when Dameon and Tiffany were hurled to the ground. Their friends' painful screams and the banshee-like shrieking of tires were the last things the two heard before everything went black.
And so they start anew.
Tiffany rolled over and groaned. She felt like she had gotten hit in the head by a car. Oh the joys of PMS she thought. From beneath her cuddly blankets she heard the cries of many babies, or maybe it just seemed like that because she was half asleep. She put her hand up to her head in attempt to check her body heat. For some reason her skin felt unusually soft. She decided it was an effect of being tired so she allowed sleep to take her away again.
When she woke up for the second time, she could hear birds chirping along with the song of the crying babies. Deciding it was probably the T.V. she threw off her covers and tried to roll herself out of bed. Something was blocking her path. It was a big wall of plastic. She was surrounded on all sides. This is like one of those moments where you go temporarily insane and think that you are trapped inside a big orb giant Tupperware container. Now I know how leftovers feel. Since she was currently trapped within her own mind, she screamed downstairs to her sisters
"Turn down the T.V.! I'm trying to sleep!"
She gasped when she heard her voice. Actually, she didn't have a voice. She was only somewhat gurgling. She examined her surroundings that were slowly coming into focus only to discover that she was in a maternity ward. She glanced down at herself to discover that she was now, also a newborn baby. This can't be happening. What did I drink last night? What did I eat? Where did I- She began to shake when she remembered the events of last night, the street, the ice, the car, the pain. The searing pain that crawled up her body as she and the vehicle made contact. Now she knew what happened or rather what hadn't. I didn't survive the crash.
Soon, two women came over to her. One was wearing all white and had a kind face; her brown locks enveloped her face. She wore red lipstick and was one of the few people Tiffany had ever seen who were able to pull that off. Mom? She thought. The other woman wasn't as pretty or as kind looking although she wasn't that bad. She had sunshine yellow hair that was obviously died. It was curled into ringlets that made her face look less like that of a rat. She had green eyes and contacts were visible. She did her face up too much for Tiffany's liking. She looks like Cleopatra. She snickered to herself. It was true. With red lipstick (she couldn't pull it off) and black eyeliner that might have even been done up to purposely mirror the Cleopatra image, this woman gave off a not-so-good first impression on her all-too-aware newborn daughter.
The brunette nurse picked up Tiffany gently.
"Well miss, what's the name of your new baby girl?"
HER? NO! Not her! Put me down! Put me down!
"Summer, her name is summer, my little summer accident."
The nurse looked a little uneasy about this comment maybe because it wasn't summer but placed Summer into the lady's arms. Surprisingly enough, the strange woman was gentle as if she had actually wanted a child.
"I will always take care of you" she promised.
Yea, Tiffany thought, eyeing the woman, Right.
One week later, Tiffany was brought to her new home, as Summer. She thought her mother was bad, until she saw her father. The man came stumbling up the stairs and she couldn't tell whether he was drunk or high. As soon as she found out, she wished she hadn't.
"He-o dalin" he muttered as he kissed her mother. In his hand he held a pot of what looked like marijuana. Summer couldn't help herself. She threw up right on her mother. Her mother immediately took her to the kitchen to clean her up and also get herself a bottle of the strongest vodka in the house.
Go figure. Of all families to be born into, I get landed with canned Cleopatra and her drug dealing dude.
Despite her parents, however, the house was very nice. It was a pale yellow in color with a freshly painted white porch wrapping around all four sides. There were white shutters on the windows and the white door was adorned with a festive wreath marking the season of winter. There were three stories and a three car garage that Summer was curious to explore. Inside the house, the floors were of white marble and all of the woodwork was cherry. As she looked at the electronic devices such as the forty-eight inch plasma flat-screen television in the living room, the surround sound and all of the stereos didn't match, she came to the conclusion that they could have been stolen.
Summer liked her room on the third floor. It want too pink but it wasn't that boyish either. The main colors were the same pale yellow as the house and a light mint green. There was a large bay window on one of the walls with a window seat and storage beneath. There was a plush white carpet on the floor and a gorgeous crystal chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling.
And to think, these nuts did it all for me. She began to think. Then she stopped and began to feel guilty. But they didn't do it for me. It was for their child. I stole their child's life for my own. Summer didn't like this idea and on top of guilt she began to feel hatred for her own existence.