Love story rough draft 2

Free writing
For as long as I've lived on Angel Island Road, the neighbors across the street have been my safe haven. They've loved me, even when my parents were furious with me, they laughed with me, even when I went through that obnoxious stage, they held me, even when I didn't deserve their comfort. I've always seen them as the exemplary parents. They showed more affection with each other than my own parents. The way Misty hugged Kelli or when they jokingly teased each other, they exuded love. Their relationship was my ideal, except one thing.

In many aspects of my life, they were my surrogate parents. Since I have four brothers and sisters, getting attention or affection in my house was a constant competition. Misty and Kelli listened and talked to me like an adult, in many ways they treated me as their equal. They were missing one thing though. A child. Two years earlier, Misty had to get one of her ovaries removed, and the idea of having a child was a fantasy. Kelli is ten years older than Misty who is now thirty-five, so her having a child was even less likely. Adoption was expensive and took years to happen.

They decided to be foster parents, hoping that they could one day adopt a child. They applied and were accepted quickly and waited months on end to be assigned a foster child. Finally, they called. A six month old, baby girl named Sahara arrived on their doorstep as if she was a present from the Stork. Her mom was neglectful and her father was in jail for murder. Not exactly the best circumstances for a person to grow up in. When Sahara arrived we were all taken back by her personality and the fact that she was one of the most beautiful babies any of us has ever seen. She was small for her age, this being understandable because of her mother. She couldn't crawl or walk, but her laugh.....it was the best thing about her. Misty would throw her up in the air to make her giggle while Kelli would watch and say, "You are gonna break her head open, and then I am gonna have to clean all the blood up."

Sahara loved it though; she loved to dance along to every sound she heard. While Kelli tried to push The Wiggles on her, Misty let her listen to Blue October or The Eagles. Whenever I bathed her, I always turned up the radio really loud and she would shake her shoulder to a Spice Girl's song. She had so much personality and spunk in such a tiny body. She loved to eat, eat, eat. By the time she was a year old, she had a Buddha belly that jiggled as she walked. She loved to give kisses and cuddle on the carpet. Whenever I babysat, Sahara always "helped" me dust the TV or sweep the floor. She was also going to be the next Keith Moon. When we would play Rockband she would run up to me and steal the drumsticks out of my hands and bang hard on the yellow and green. She grew more and more into a wonderful person as the months went on.

In late November, we got some depressing news; Sahara's parents had signed their rights to her away. Her aunt would soon start to file papers to adopt Sahara. My Sahara, the little girl that was now walking, the person I looked forward to see every day, she was leaving. It was like a death, I would never see her brown eyes again. Or her crooked teeth. Or the thumping of her heart. To me, she was terminal.

They estimated that she would leave just after Christmas, and then they said near Valentine's Day, but she never left. I started to hope that the aunt would see how happy Sahara is with Misty and Kelli. Maybe she couldn't handle an eighteen month baby? That's all it was though, hope. A week before Spring break, they heard, she would be leaving the next Friday. I started to sob right there. This wasn't fair, they deserved a baby so much, and to have one just stolen away from them, it just wasn't fair. They had basically raised my brother and kept him off the streets, they were definitely capable. Kelli came over and held me as I cried. "Cry after she's gone, she's here for a week, cry when she's gone," she kept saying over and over.

Every day was a funeral, I dreaded every minute that went by, every breath was a pain that throbbed for hours on end. I tried my best to not cry; I played with her and walked with her. I cherished every smile or piece of "sugar" she gave me. I also let them have their time with her, she was theirs more than anyone else's. The day before she left, I said my goodbye; I wanted Misty and Kelli to be with her tomorrow, just them, no one else. I cried as I held her and played with the flowers in the garden. She was so beautiful, so happy here, why did she have to leave? As I walked across the street after saying goodbye, I stopped and stared at their house. I took a moment to remember her presence there, knowing it would never be their again.

I laid in bed until three in the afternoon the next day; I wanted to wallow in my grief. Having my mother make me take a shower and get up was the only reason I moved. At six I walked over there. They were sitting, watching TV, with tears streaming down their faces. I had never seen them cry before. I sat with them until they could breathe normally. When they didn't get an email telling them about Sahara and how their trip went, Kelli was explosive. She was sobbing and all Misty said was, "We'll find her, even if we have to hire a private detective, we have her social security number, we'll find her." Kelli finally calmed down and we finished watching TV, Sahara in the back of all of our minds.