My life was horrible. And, no, I don't mean a "I got a 'C' on my math test" or even "My dog died," kind of horrible. My life was more in the "I'm a blind orphan who lives with a group of misfit kids and an abusive foster-mother" kind of horrible. Yes, I do hope you are rethinking your standards.

I had been raised, until I six, by a homeless man in San Francisco. He had found me in a pile of garbage in an empty alley as a baby. Once, he told me that it would have been better if he had just left me there to die. Maybe he should've; I wouldn't have had to beg on street corners for money, or, constantly have to rely solely on my hearing wherever I went so I didn't run into anything. But I know he never would have done it and I knew he was glad he had saved me. He had been lonely.

I never knew much about his past, not even his real name. He called himself Iggy, but never told me why. Though he did tell me that when he decided to name me James Griffith, it was for his brother, who had died when he was ten.

Everyday, I wished that he hadn't died, that the janitor hadn't found me sleeping in the public library, that the police hadn't thrown me in a poor bitch's house. But of course, it had all happened.

But I was glad that I had found somewhere that I could fit in. being blind, it was hard to find friends. It seemed that my sightlessness was contagious and whomever I met could only see me as a helpless child. Though somehow, misfits understood each other. The only upside of my foster-home was my "siblings."

I was one of the last additions to the flock, as we liked to call ourselves. We were like birds pushed out of the nest too early in life. It fit. Maximum Ride was our leader. Her parents had died of heroin overdoses when she was two. She always said they must've been floating when they named her, but when given the choice to change her name, she refused. Nick Evans had come along just a few months after Max. She had renamed him Fang because of his caustic attitude when she was little. The two had always seemed to be in love and when they started holding hands and kissing, it seemed so normal that no one questioned it. Angel and The Gasman were the youngest of the flock and the only biological siblings. Angel was just a baby when she first came to us and Max tended to treat her like her own daughter. It was heartwarming to see Max hold Angel while she cried after scraping her knee on the sidewalk. Their parents have given them up after Angel was born, and she had started out without a name. Gazzy was on document as Zephyr Smith but earned his name due to his digestion issues. Monique was our foster-mother's biological daughter and it was a good thing that she didn't share any character traits with her mother. Her horrible habit of babbling for way too long had dubbed her as Nudge.

When I was first put into foster-care, they asked me what my name was. Without a moment of hesitation I had said Iggy. They didn't question it, obviously not caring enough to ask. No one knew where I had gotten my name, nor did they know that my "real" name was James. They didn't have to.

And even after all the shit we went through, we grew up just fine.

Brenda Jackson was our foster-mother, but Max had been more like a mom to all of us. Brenda was a thirty-year-old single mother who, for the past fourteen years, had been trying to take off in her acting career. Of course, having a daughter at seventeen and having to take care of group of orphans just to pay her rent put a damper on things. The first time I met Brenda, I thought she would take care of me. Her voice was so soft and flowing, and she had taken my hand and led me to her car so gently. Fang told me that she was incredibly beautiful, even though she was a bitch. Apparently, she had curly dark brown hair that was the same color as her big eyes. She was covered in perfect mocha skin and had a petite frame. Obviously I really didn't know. Her appearance had no relation to her character. She was constantly out of the house and came home after midnight usually drunk. If she was home during the day, she would yell at us and lock us in our rooms. Every once in awhile, she would hurt us. She had broken my arm once dragging me to my room and had cut the side of my face with a kitchen knife when I accidentally spilled a glass of milk.

And on top of being blind, an orphan, and living with an abusive bitch, I was in love with someone I had never met.

It had been a regular Tuesday afternoon. The flock and I had walked Nudge, Gazzy, and Angel to their school and then carried on to Aviva High School. I had went through the day as I usually did, sleeping in second period and reading along in class with my Braille textbooks. As I headed towards the front of the school where I planned to meet Max and Fang, I passed by the band room and stopped dead in my tracks. Cemented to the linoleum, I had heard her. She played in a tone so hollow and graceful. The music coming from the oboe was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. "Hurry up, I 'wanna go home," I had heard someone in the room say impatiently. The music stopped.

"Don't rush me." Her voice was like a carbon copy of the wind instrument, it resonated around me as if there was echo in the hallway. Still mesmerized by the sounds she had created, I didn't hear her get up and walk through the door. "Sorry," she called brushing by shoulder.

Love is horrible. it keeps you up in the middle of the night, wishing with everything in you that the person you have fallen for loves you back or that one day they will or that one day you can just forget about them. That was probably the only upside of love. The night I fell in love, I didn't think about the man who had raised me. Love replaced itself.

And being blind and falling in love with a stranger is probably the worst thing you can do. Because when you hear them, you know it's them. You know that it couldn't possibly be anyone else. Which is exactly what happened to me, Iggy "James" Griffith, when I heard that beautiful voice being dragged into our kitchen by my horrible stepmother on May 11th. And when I pinched myself to wake up from an impossible dream, I was still foster-siblings with Melanie Bea Wasurick.

AN: Woot woot! MrsPartyMarty is back! X) You don't know how sorry I am about totally dying. Okay, I'll start this off by saying that I have DISCONTINUED "With a Family." It was starting to suck. Same with "Embracing Insanity" thanks to my sister who is too lazy to write. :) I just started the Maximum Ride series and I LOVE it. X) I'm on book two and trying to read fast. I do not have a beta, if you want to help me out, PLEASE DO. I will love you forever.

I plan to get the next chapter up by… next Thursday? I'm hesitant. Don't kill me if it's not finished by then. It's just an estimate. ALSO, the OC's are based off of meeeee and some of my buddies. If you think we are weird… we totally are. Okay, thanks for reading! DON'T FROGET TO REVIEW! X)

Love,

MrsMartinJohnson

PS

This is really short, but the next chapter will indeed be longer.