In My Mother's Footsteps: Chapter One

Disclaimer.

I do not own Disney, and therefore do not own any of these characters.

Miley.

"One more push," dad told me. "Hang in there baby girl, just one more." I clutched his hand, grasping for support, praying that he was right. That this torture - this nightmare - would soon be over. He took the warm towel off my head and replaced it with a new cool one that was a shock to my system. It jolted me to reality, to the moment.

"Come on," Jackson whispered in my other ear, squeezing my hand. "You can do it Miles."

The pain burned, bringing me to tears and hysterics. In the past minutes I had cried, screamed, and cursed. I had said I would stop, that I couldn't go any further, but they had pressured me into pushing again. And now, here was the moment. The final second that this baby was all mine, and no one else's.

"Ready?" The doctor asked. I nodded. "And go. Ten." The pain was more intesnse then before. "Nine." I felt like I was being split into two. "Eight." Please, God, let it stop. "Seven." I screamed, shrieked, moaned. "Six." Something loosened, uncoiling within. "Five." Again the pain. "Four." Her voice was higher pitch. "And . . ." the pain disappeared. "Here's your baby." As the pain released a weight warm weight was dropped on top of my stomach. I heard a cry.

"Girl or boy?" I panted, clutching the small body.

"See for yourself." The doctor told me as she clamped something on to the baby's cord. I couldn't lift up the body – it was too fragile. Surely I would break him or her. Dad carefully lifted it up, announcing to the room that it was a little girl.

"Charlotte," whispered a voice to my right. "Charlotte Rose." A woman stepped into my view, wearing loose jeans and a touristy Malibu, CA sweatshirt. Her eyes were locked on the baby as she extended a hand, placing it on the small body. "She's beautiful."

The man behind her nodded, "she's perfect," he agreed. "And you were great," he told me, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Thank you so much."

I jolted awake, the dream – so real – fresh in my mind. Immediately I grabbed my cell off the end table and called Jessica. Less then a minute later her voice came through the speaker, groggy from sleep. "What?" she asked.

"The dream, it came back. Again. It has to be a sign Jess, it has to mean something."

"You're loopy." She accused.

"Jess," I begged, "come on, it can't be a coincidence that we're less then thirty minutes away from them when I get these dreams. Its fate, God, whatever - telling me that I have to find her. That she wants me to find her."

"Miley. Take a breath. In. Out." I breathed in and out. "Now listen to me. It's just a dream."

"But Jess-"

"A dream. That's it. Now, it's only three in the morning and you really need your beauty sleep, as do I. Turn off your phone, go to bed, and we'll discuss this in the morning if you even remember it."

"Fine." I sighed, slinking back under the covers.

Good night Miley." Jess chorused.

" 'night Jess." I chanted, slamming the phone shut. Before I nodded off to sleep, however, I pulled over the hotel-provided stationary and pen, jotting down Charlotte Rose Morgan on the paper so that I wouldn't forget.

Charlie

English Assignment: Write about your family. Explain each person's personality, hobbies, and relationship to others. Who gets along, and who doesn't? What are each person's responsibilities? You may use first person. Include pets. Due: First class after Spring Break.

I never met my biological parents. All I know is from what my adoptive parents told me in a letter that I received after their death in a car crash. I know that my parents lived in Malibu, California, although my mother moved to Tennessee shortly after she began to show. She had family there and finished out her high school career in Tennessee before giving birth, signing the adoption papers, and moving back to Malibu. She gave me her brown, curly hair and round face, but not her ability to sing, although they told me she had a beautiful voice. My father, whom they never met but knew of from her, gave me his brown eyes and shy nature, but again did not grant me his musical ability, which in his case was rapping. I do not know much else about them, except that they were friends, but never dated. I wish I knew more about them.

My adoptive parents were hand-chosen for me by my biological mother. Their names were Marcus and Natalie Morgan, and they lived in Northern Virginia. My father was a lawyer, while my mother owned a small used bookstore that I loved to play in. They were just about to adopt another child when they got into a car accident. Orphaned at the age of six, I was thrust into the foster care system. Since then I have been moved to four different families until, three years ago, the Nathans took me in and officially adopted me.

Today I live with the Nathans in Maryland, their two biological children and three others who they have also adopted, and all of whom I consider my family . . .

I put my pen down and took a deep breath. Did I really want to recount this right now? No. No, it was painful and it always would be. Thinking of my real mother made me curious as to who she was, and what led her to give me up. But I would never know her, because it had been a closed adoption. Remembering my adopted parents was painful. My memories of that time were fairytales. I had loved the tiny bookstore. When an old too-tattered book came in mom would let me rip it to shreds. I learned to read using an old donated set of "Bob Books" she found, and spent hours lying in the children's corner alphabet rug, trying to sound out the clear, round letters that confused me. It had taken a year for me to be fully convinced that they weren't coming back for me. I insisted that they had only left to pick up my new brother, and were delayed in returning.

The memories of my many foster families were the most painful. I had little memory of the first one. I stayed there for a year and a half, and they had so many little kids that all of it seemed like kindergarten to me. The second family, the Johnson's, were a kind family living in D.C. They began fostering just after their last kid moved out for college, and I was their first. They doted on me, buying new toys and trying to help me fit in. But after the last family I had hidden in my own little shell and despite their best efforts was not to be pulled out. I was moved to the Carter's just after my ninth birthday. They had many foster kids and one, an older girl named Clair, took me under her wing. She sheltered me from what I knew then to be the random shouting and moans of pain that came across the thin bedroom walls. While the other girls developed bruises I learned to care for myself from Clair, who gave me fake bruises with dark make up so that no one suspected a thing. My only other friend there was Naomi, an eight year old I roomed with that Clair could not save. Where I was just another kid to the Carters, Naomi could not be hidden because of her distinctive coppery curls and bright green eyes. By the time the state shut the Carter's down Naomi was deep into the third trimester of her second pregnancy at Mr. Carter's hands but otherwise deathly thin.

She was moved to a home for teenage mothers outside of Baltimore, while I was introduced to the Nathan's. Thinking of her and all the other kids at that house who suffered brings tears to my eyes. Why was I saved? I know for a fact that she was not the only one sent to that home. That three of the older girls, including Clair, are struggling to make it outside in the real world, having aged out of the system. Many of the younger kids moved on to better homes, but not as good as the one I was sent to. I'm always asking myself why. Why was I saved from the Carters? Why did my mom give me up? Why didn't my dad know about me? Why was I put in a great foster home and not the others? And why did I waste the promising future they were setting out for me in exchange for one night at a party that I was too drunk to remember?

Author's Note.

Hope I caught your attention. Lots of mystery and figuring things out to come! Keeps a lookout for a new chapter coming your way!

BTW- Who should Miley date? Any suggestions!?