Disclaimer- I don't own KND. Siobhan and Damien copyright to me.
A Night To Remember
I don't want this night to end. I want it to last forever. I want to sit here and remember, I don't want the dawn to come. I like the darkness. It hides my impurities. My faults. I can hear my boyfriend in the next room. He knows nothing of my being here. I wish to keep it this way. This is my night. My night to remember.
I was born eight years ago in Cloncurry, Queensland, Australia. I was named Siobhan Kiera Zabeham. When I was little more than one year old, my parents abandoned me at an orphanage in Melbourne. I don't remember my parents. To be honest, I don't want to. I grew up in Melbourne. I made several close friends, who became my family in one way. My sisters were: Maria, Abi, Ashley, Hannah and Sarah. My brothers: Sam, And, Kyle and Luke. They were my family, and I loved them dearly.
I remember very clearly, when couple visited the home, looking at all of us, deciding who to take home. I was never chosen. I remember one day, lots of people came to the home. All of my friends were chosen. I never got a chance to say goodbye before they were whisked away from me. They did not think me capable of any emotions. I had been extremely withdrawn around the staff, only showing my true self to my friends.
That was the longest night I've ever known, the beds around me were empty, no one was there to hear me cry. When the morning finally came, the staff made me get up and get dressed, ignoring my tears. The other kids tried to comfort me, but they could not. I was barely five years old, and my heart was already broken.
By the age of six, I was attending school. It was alright; I made a few friends. I didn't really enjoy it. Two months later, I was adopted. The couple who adopted me lived in the outskirts of Melbourne. I still went to the same school, but apart from my home, one thing had changed. My clothes. No longer was I permitted to wear black, I was dressed everyday in pink. My adopted family made sure I was up to date with the latest fashions, and that I mixed with the right people. I was constantly dragged out to parties where I just had to stand, smile and look good. It was like I was a fashion accessory.
The couple made sure I was 'in' with the most popular girls in my school, so I spent my lunchtimes with them, talking about clothes and other things I really didn't care about. When I was older, I went with them to a café a little way from the school. It was at this café all the fashionable girls and sporty boys hung out. It was there I first saw him, across a crowded room. A boy no older than myself, with an Australian flag as a bandana, dressed in a white sports kit. The last thing I saw was his crucifix. When I saw his, I wrapped my fingers around my own. He lifted his gaze then, looking straight at me. I felt as if his gaze pierced straight through me, brushing away my outer shell, seeing me for who I truly was. He smiled at me, making my cheeks redden, then he returned to his conversation. I returned home that evening genuinely happy, only to have my 'family' scold me for being late, and send me to my room. It was that moment rebellion built up in my seven year old heart. I dug deep beneath my bed, and dug out the chest that was there. Inside it were my most precious memories. The memories that my parents had banned. There was a picture of me when I was at the orphanage with the others, and beneath it, were all my old clothes. My black hoodies, etc. How I'd missed them…
The next morning, I left for school early, so as not to encounter my adoptees wrath. I got to school nearly half an hour early, so I decided to go to the café. Hopefully no one would be there. I was right, no one was there. I settled in a corner, and ordered myself a drink. I sat there running over everything in my mind, and didn't notice a figure approach me.
"Can I sit here?"