As soon as she was born, I knew Anita was not my daughter. I could tell in that same strange way that mothers always seem when their child is in danger, that this girl wasn't mind. Even if I hadn't known, I would have suspected. After all, she looked nothing like anyone on mine or Clive's side of the family. Anita was born with lovely red hair, a heart shaped face, and smoky green eyes. When I concentrated, I could almost see gold in her eyes. She was beautiful, but nothing like us, and somehow not my daughter. But I did give birth to her, and I loved her all the same.
Growing up, Anita had been full of surprises. She's often have nightmares as a child. One night, I heard her muttering in her sleep, "It is such a strange, dreadful feeling as the life drains from me. I have some terrible, terrible disease… I'M DYING!" She was shouting by then and woke up. When I asked her about her dream, she said she could only remember that it was scary, that something horrible happened. I'd comforted her, and she'd returned to sleep without trouble. Anita had also had many imaginary friends. I'd kept close track of all of them, as Anita would become horribly offended if I forgot one. She had six imaginary sisters, Eden, Hopie, Sancha, Cordelia, Rathina, and Zara. She also enforced that she had a pet unicorn named Percival. All the books said imaginary friends were normal, especially for only children, so I never worried.
The most surprising incident was when Anita was five. I'd taken her to the park, and was setting up a picnic for when she stopped playing. As I was pulling out the peanut butter and chocolate sandwiches Anita had requested, I heard her crying. I found her on the ground near the jungle gym, clutching her arm and sobbing.
"Mommy!" she cried, "What happened to my wings?"
"Honey, you don't have wings." I replied as I carried her to the car.
"Yes I do." She said stubbornly, forgetting about her arm.
"Honey, you don't have wings. You're a human, not a bird. Birds have wings. Not humans."
"I do too have wings. Zara, Rathina, and I play hide and seek in the maze, and they complain about me cheating and flying up to look over the hedge."
"We don't have a maze, Anita, and you don't have wings. You can't go jumping off things thinking that you'll be able to fly. You can't fly, because you don't have wings." I hated to stifle her imagination, but I didn't want her jumping off structures higher than the jungle gym, trying to fly.
"But Mommy! I know I have wings. They're like a dragonfly's, only bigger, and they go right here," she tried to reach her shoulder blades, "I was telling one of the girls at the park about them, and she didn't believe me, so I had to prove it, so I jumped off the jungle gym to show her, only my wings are gone and I can't fly and I don't know what happened to them!" she cried as I carried her into the hospital. I could tell I wasn't getting through to her, so I tried a different approach.
"Well, since your wings didn't help you fly, then you can't jump off things, otherwise you'll get hurt like this again. Can you promise me that you won't jump off things anymore?"
Anita sniffled. "You still don't believe me." I looked at her. "Fine. I promise not to jump off things, even though I really do have wings." The next day, I asked her how her wings were, to prove to her that I was trying to listen to her, even if she was only five. But her reply startled me.
"Silly Mommy. People don't have wings. Only birds do." I'd been shocked. After she'd been so adamant in her belief about her wings yesterday. I figured I must have gotten through to her, but deep inside, I knew it was just another oddity to my daughter who was not mine.