The Guardians

I stepped off the subway and started strolling towards the apartment, my brain was already buzzing from the excitement of finally going back home. I stopped at the front door, my clammy hands reaching for my house key in my pocket.

What if they were angry? What if they would yell as I came in?

I pushed the key into the lock anyway. I didn't care if they were angry. I had to see them. As the lock clicked open, I walked inside. My feet dragging me up the stairs I could walk blindfolded. Part of me didn't believe this was happening, that this was a dream and that I would wake up any second now. I knocked on the door and waited but no one answered. I knocked again. And again, but no one was home. Where could they be? After a minute, I let myself in and walked inside the apartment. Inside was different. It was dark and messy. There was no Christmas decoration or the usual candle smell—there was a white board where the tree should be—like the ones from the police station—with my photo on it, a time line and questions I couldn't even answer.

The rest of home was covered in boxes, files, old plates spread around the room, coffee cups everywhere, take out containers toppling the trashcan. They had been trying to find me all this time.

Of course they were, idiot. Your dad is a cop. Why the hell weren't they wasting every last breathe to find you?

I didn't want to answer, instead I grabbed the first file I saw and started shuffling threw it. It was a record of every sex trafficking gang in England. As I saw the first bald tattooed criminal I dropped the file. Imagining my life if that had really happened. I felt my back shiver and my arm raise goosebumps. Quickly, I grabbed the next file I saw. It was an open one next to a half drunken coffee mug.

I closed the file to look at the tittle—Eden Vee. This was my adoption file. There were pictures of me as a baby, my first day with my dads and my foster mum. A piece of paper fell out as I opened it, my hand catching it before it slipped. The words FILE UPDATE were stamped across it in red.

My eyes glazed threw the file to find my name and where the police had found me. The rest was all new. My actual birth date. How much I weighed when I was born and how tall I was. Even the hospital where I was born. Everything was in here. There was even an address of the last house my mum lived, her name, the day she was born and the day she died. The same day my dad died. How could my real dads keep this from me? I ripped the address from the file and stuffed it in my pocket. I had to find that house. When I was about to close the file and look threw the rest of the boxes, I heard the tangling of keys at the door when my dads came in. Their familiar faces looking at the floor, an awkward tension between them.

“What is this?” I ask them as they walk inside, holding the file up for them. Their was this burn in my chest. A clench in my fists I couldn't stop. This desire to hit something. Why hadn't they told me they knew all this?

“Eden...” they said together. Their eyes fixed on me like glue, unable to step forward.

“No!” was all I could shout. Seeing their face of relief as they watched me. My chest was a combination of a flame and an aching heart. “What is this! What is this!”

“That's your adoption file.” Jad said, coming closer. I stepped back.

“I know that!” I screamed again. My voice breaking. “Why did you lie to me? Why tell me you didn't know anything when you knew everything? You knew everything about me?”

“We already know everything about you, honey. A piece of paper doesn't change that.” Jad said again, stepping forward slightly.

“No! No! I always wanted to know this! This right here and you never said anything. You told me they just left me at a church. If they really left me, how could you know all this?” I hated how weak my voice sounded. I hated the tremble in my legs. I hated this file.

“Eden, please calm down. Will explain everything. I promise.”

“Did they come back for me? Did they want me back?” I didn't want to ask. I never ever wanted to ask. Because even if they did come back, I would never go with them. Ever. But why did I them? Why did I have to know so badly? Why did I want a connection with a woman who left me?

They didn't answer. Instead their was heavy silence and stares.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I just..I'm sorry.” Breathing hurt now. The pain in my chest was bad. The burning fire was calming down, instead the ache was worse. The thumping heart in my chest was heavy and slow. A loud rhythm stuck in the silence only I could hear.

“Don't apologize.” Dad finally spoke, stepping forward along side his husband. “We owe you an explanation.” he breathed in for a second, a heavy long breathe, until Jad squeezed his hand in reassurance and Dad went on. “When we got that file you were seven. The adoption agency had found someone claiming to be your grandfather. They had your and his DNA tested and when the results came back positive, we didn't want anything to do with him.”

“Why?”

“Because...we had decided that family wasn't blood. That he didn't get a right to meet you after so many years. That he was too late.”

“But why tell me you didn't know anything?” I could feel my voice crack. I knew they hadn't told me everything a long time ago. I knew by the uneasy looks they gave each other when I asked. The vague answers. I didn't know they knew so much.

“When you started asking questions, we actually didn't know anything. After that, we couldn't tell you anything without telling you about him. So we didn't. We're sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't mean anything!” My voice was in between cracking and screaming. The burn was coming back. I had a grandfather. I had a grandfather. One who knew my mother and my father. One who knew my grandmother. Why would they keep him from me?

“Why did I never have a say in seeing him? Why couldn't I make that decision?” I screamed. Tears falling down my cheeks.

“We wanted to give you that choice later. When you were older.”

“How old? How long did I have to wait until you would stop lying to me?” I didn't want to yell.

“We wanted to tell you on your 12th birthday. Thought at that age you were old enough to decide.” Dad said, not looking at me anymore. My heart kept getting louder and louder in my ears. A constant bonk at the verge of breaking.

“I'm fifteen. My 12th birthday was three years ago. What happened?” I shouted.

“He died.”My heartbeat flat lined at that second because everything collapsed. I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't feel anything. The ache was gone. So was the burn. Instead it felt empty. Hollow. My dads came closer. Slowly stepping towards me. Their mouths were moving but I couldn't hear anything. I didn't want them near me.My back crawling with goosebumps as my body protested. I stepped back as they tried to hug me. 

I couldn't look them in the eyes without feeling lied to. I didn't want to cry in front of them, I couldn't, but my head was fuzzy and confused and the tears were already pouring down as my knees fell to the ground. They lowered down to my level, their warm body felt nice next to mine as they held me. Rubbing my back softly telling me they were sorry. The tears wouldn't stop. I was crying over a man I didn't know. A man I would never know. Slowly, sound came back. Only our breathing. Our heavy rising of our chests echoing threw the whole room. Time stopped as we sat there huddled up crying together. It felt good to feel safe. I hadn't felt that in a while