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Realistic or Modern Baby Mine

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Why is math so difficult?

The girl pouted at the worksheet spread before her on the smooth surface of her desk, tapping the eraser of her favorite green pencil in a consistent beat against the wood. Without her best friend Pari, more or less the most intelligent person the girl had ever met, sitting beside her, her homework seemed more hopeless than ever. The symbols, the nonsensical combination of numbers and letters, none of it made any sense. Numbers and letters were not supposed to go together, that went against every bit of logic the girl had ever heard, and really, why were exponents necessary when one could just write the number? The girl sighed, dropping her pencil and cramming the homework back in her bag, to be done before class with Pari's help. Math had never been her strong point.

However, never let it be said that Eliza Mabe was dumb.

Put her in an English classroom, and Eliza would flourish. She could pick symbolism out of the most complex of texts, read far above the average level for her grade, and write like someone three times her age, whether it be essays or narratives or poems. If it weren't for the superior feeling of the work out that came after, she would despise the bell that signaled the end of an English class. Because nothing, not even the joy of literature, surpassed her love of running. The feeling of the sturdy earth subtly flexing beneath her her feet, the pounding of her heart in her chest, the feeling of being strong and alive--what could be better than that? Track practices always ended with her muscles sore, but warm and reliable, as they always were. She had always been slender, but she did have muscle, wiry yet firm in her limbs, and she could depend on it, whether it be for track, the almost as beloved ballet, or even just tree climbing.

The girl let out a content breath at the though, glancing at the clock and getting to her feet upon realizing it was time for dinner. She turned towards the door, but paused and took a moment to look around her bedroom, the one she'd had her whole life. Beige walls, glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling, a floral quilt on her bed and a pair of worn out pointe shoes dangling from the edge of the mirror that stood on her vanity, the pale pink of the silk a sharp contrast to the blue cloth that held the medals she'd won in track, hanging from the same corner of the mirror. A small smile formed on her lips as she took it in, before she finally walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her and taking the carpeted stairs two at a time. She glided down the hallway and poked her head into the kitchen, smile widening at the sight of the familiar woman standing in the kitchen.

"What're we having, mum?" she asked as she moved to take a seat at the counter, pausing halfway into climbing into the stool at the expression on her mother's face, smile fading fast, "...Are you okay?" Her mother bore a look that Eliza had never seen on her usually soft features, and it was a little bit scary. What on earth could have upset the woman so deeply?
 


Adeline Mae Mabe
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A shaky hand poured the light brown liquid into a tall glass before grasping the glass and bringing it up to the now pale woman's dark sanguine lips. The same thing continued to replay in her mind:

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"This just in, The case of Sally Johanson is being re-opened. It was 8 years ago tomorrow when little Sally was taken from her mother while visiting Eisenhower Park. Sally was a year and a half when she, her mother Janet, and her older brother Kellin were all at the park. Janet had let Kellin run off to play on the swing and Sally play in the sandbox as she took a seat on the bench beside the sandbox to watch both of her children. After about 15 minutes of being at the park, Kellin's scream pierced the air and Janet ran over to tend to her son who had just fallen off the swings, leaving her daughter in the sandbox and her purse on the bench. She had quickly picked up her son and tried to calm him, and once his cries subsided a bit she glanced back over towards the sandbox where she had left her daughter only to see the young redheaded girl was no longer there. With her son still in her arms, she rushed over to the sandbox and frantically looked around to see if the girl had toddled away. To her disbelief, it was as though the child had simply vanished into thin air. The woman had run over to several others in the park to ask if any of them had seen Sally, but unfortunately, no one had seen the child. The woman began to scream and cry hysterically as others pulled out their phones to call law enforcement.

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The search for Sally had gone on for several months and an amber alert had been sent throughout all 50 states within a matter of 2 weeks, but the child had disappeared without a single trace. So tonight after Janet's persistent efforts of 8 years, trying to find her youngest child, she has finally received the second chance she hoped for. Authorities have re-opened the case and will begin to search for the missing child once more.

Sally should be around 9 years old now. She was born with red hair that could've possibly darkened into a deep auburn color now, dark brown eyes , and a rather large circular birthmark near her left collarbone.

If anyone notices anything suspicious or knows a child who matches this description, please contact local authorities or call Crime Stoppers at (XXX) - XXX -XXX

Now to you Pam for tomorrow's weather forecast.

Her hand tilted the glass further back as the bitterness of the beer washed into the back of her throat, burning on its journey down the woman's esophagus. A sigh escaped from her painted lips as the liquor began to blur her memory ever so slightly, helping her numb her poisonous thoughts. She took another sip of the liquor before setting the glass on the counter beside her. It took some effect but she wished it would work faster because her emotions of guilt simply disappearing because the memory of the day she instinctively took young Eliza home with her. She didn't even realize that her 'daughter' had entered the room until her little voice asked "Are you ok?"

'No..'

She automatically thought before she snapped herself out of her daze and smiled at the girl,

"I'm ok, don't worry about me Eli. I was just...thinking."

She chirped before turning around towards the sink and beginning to wash the dishes she had left in the sink.

"Now what were you asking me? Did you need help with your homework?"




(Sorry for the delayed response! Also I just typed in a family name and stuff for now, but we can discuss the biological mothers name, Eliza's actual name, and her brothers name later if you'd like)

 
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Eliza frowned a little bit at her Adeline's response, able to tell with ease that it was a lie. She may have been young, but she was very perceptive, and though her mother was rather difficult to read, Eliza could still tell that her mother was not alright, no matter what she said. However, she'd long since learned that it wasn't wise to ask after her mother's strange moods. For as long as she could remember, there had been times where she had caught Adeline with a distant expression, mind elsewhere and gaze clouded over. The harder she pressed for answers, the more clammed up and annoyed Adeline would become, and eventually, Eliza had just learned not to ask, and leave the "mother in the mist" in the mist. She had not, however, seen her mother quite like that before. After a split second evaluation of the situation, Eliza decided that it wasn't worth trying to get a proper response when she knew her mother wouldn't give her one.

"No--well, yes, but that's not what I was asking," Eliza responded with a small laugh, boosting herself the rest of the way into the seat and getting comfortable, "I was wondering what we were having for dinner?" Eliza wasn't a girl with a particularly ravenous appetite, preferring to eat small snacks such as apples or granola bars and be on the go again because she disliked being idle, but meals with her mother were an exception. They were both busy people, Adeline with work and Eliza juggling school and the variety of extra-curricular activities she took part in, so meals were the only real time during the week that they had to simply sit and talk with each other. Week ends, of course, were another story, but even then, Eliza had ballet rehearsals over the weekend, as well as the occasional track meet, and she enjoyed visiting Pari whenever she got the chance. So meals were a treasured, if not mundane, time for the two of them.

"Though a little help with my math would be appreciated once we're done," Eliza admitted with a sheepish giggle, swinging her legs under the table. Though a little long for her body and very spindly, they still didn't quite reach the ground if she sat with her back against the chair, "I don't really get fractions. I mean, I kinda do, but not really." She pushed a loose lock of copper hair behind her ear, the thought that she'd need a haircut soon passing through her mind before leaving just as fast as it came. "Pari would probably get it, she's super smart," she mentioned absently, face lighting up and a rosy tinge rising to her cheeks as it often did when she talked about the other girl. Pari had been her best friend for as long as Eliza could remember, and many an evening had been spent sharing an air mattress in the living room, whether in Pari's house or Eliza's own. She could almost conjure the feeling of Pari's thick, raven black hair on her fingertips just from how often she'd toyed with it, could see the girl's stormy, dark blue eyes glimmering with mirth from all the times she'd made Pari laugh. She really liked when she made Pari laugh.
 

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