My name is Cora Josephine Hockley, and I am a rich girl.

My father, who was named Caledon Hockley, told me that I was adopted about a month after I was born. He never told me the names of my parents, because he did not have the slightest idea who they were. However, he did tell me that I do look a lot like someone he loved (and still loves), and that that was the reason why he adopted me. I would often ask about her, and he would tell me that she was an elegant young women turned into a whore to a "gutter rat," and that she had died right before he adopted me. Anyway, I honestly did not see why father would call poor people gutter rats. I thought that gutter rats were rodents, not people.

My father would always take me on long bike-rides, unlike what he did for other women because he was too afraid of me running away to someone he would never approve of. He let me live my life to the fullest, which I had trully appreciated. Whenever I was depressed, he would hold me. Whenever I was happy, he would compliment me and praise me. Whenever I wanted something, he would (usually) give me that something. My presents from him for my birthdays and Christmases were phenominal, although nothing that was too out of the ordinary. Once, he bought me a diamond necklace, which reminded him of what he had given the one he loved many years before. One year, he even bought me a white stallion after several years of riding lessons.

This man took up a very big piece of my heart, just as how daughters should feel about their fathers. I'd only get mad at him when he was arrogant, although he tried not to be most of the time. He was not arrogant, however, when sent me to school, which I was ecstatic about. After all, he threatened the school board if they did not let me in, and he paid the people about a thousand dollars to get me in there. The school was mostly made up of boys, so I learned to spit, talk, and eat like men. Ofcourse, the fun would always start whenever I would bring my friends home. He would often check on us to see if we were doing anything "crazy" about, say, every three seconds? Infact, he never wanted to go to work whenever a boy was around, which had shown how concerned he was about me. I was pretty angry about it at the time, but now I see why he would be, since I am now sixteen. Young men had, however, become much nicer to me over the years, after being weirded out about me in the first place.

Sadly, my father shot himself right in front of someone who looked almost exactly like me, telling her, "I would kill myself for you." The same hair, the same eyes, the same lips; the only differences were some of the features on our faces. I had never been more amazed in my life, come to think of it. I figured that she was the woman he had loved, so I asked her who she was. Then all the fun started...

"Rose, you cannot do this to me anymore," said my father, wailing his eyes out. I had never heard my father cry through these thin walls in my lifetime, as I just stood out there trying to make out the scene. I figured that this Rose was someone he had known before, and maybe she had something to do with his interests hitting rock-bottom. For all I could care, this "Rose" wasn't so keen on my father, although she never bothered to yell or get angry at him. "I cannot help myself any longer."

"Maybe you will finally understand what it is like to be me, Cal," the woman said with her soft, angelic voice. My father always told me that my voice sounded like that. "You will finally understand how the whole world was crashing down on me once you asked me to marry you. You will finally comprehend with the fact that I never loved you, and that you deserve to be like this."

"Rose, please don't say that," my father responded, blowing his nose on his old handkerchief. I then had realized that he was talking to his old lover of whom he would always talk to me about. "You've ruined me, Rose. Look at me, I've lost all of my money. I cannot possibly go on like this."

"Cal, don't be so stupid," she replied. I did not like anyone who called my father stupid! "I've had to live with this, and you can too. I can help you."

"You can't help me any more than I can help myself," my father then said. I looked through the creak of the door, and saw that he was holding a gun to his mouth. "I would kill myself for you, Rose."

And then, I heard the shot. BANG, it went. I stormed through the door screaming, running so fast that I could even beat a cheetah in a race. "Daddy!" I shouted, hugging his now bloody body. As a father, I had loved him. I treasured him more than I could ever appreciate someone in my life. "Daddy... you've died on me."

I turned around to face the woman with plenty of eye contact. I wanted to hate her, but there was so much hope I had seen in this woman that I even liked her. The woman had begun to stare at me in a peculiar, but fond way. She looked as though she wanted to embrace me tightly, as though I was someone she had not seen for a long time. The way I reacted was pretty much the same, wanting to hug her so badly, as though I had known her in a past life. Our eyes met, and we just kept gazing at eachother in awe.

She's so beautiful, the woman thought, as she continued to stare at me. I never knew she would look so much like him. She has my eyes, too! Oh God, she even reminds me of him... she just looks as though she has so much good in her.

I can't believe it, I thought, still staring back at her, she could not possible be my mother! She looks a little young, though. She would have had to be a teenager when she had me, so it would be almost impossible!

"Cora?" she said, walking up to me to hold my cheeks. She ran her fingers through my hair, and felt my forehead. Her eyes widened, and she then closed her eyes to kiss me above my eyes. I did not flinch, nor was I even scared. She hugged me snug, and in response, I even put my arms around her. However, I had not even a bit of an idea of how she could possibly know who I am. Sure, she sure looked like me, but there was no proof that she was related to me.

"Um, I-I'm sorry, but h-how to you know my name?" I stuttered nervously, holding my hands up to my chest as she pulled out of our warm embrace. "Why did you just kiss me? Why are you holding me? Infact, the real question is, who are you?"

"Cora... listen," she replied, the name "Cora" ringing in my eyes as she spoke. "There is only one answer I can possibly tell you in response to those four questions."

"And that is?" I asked, not knowing what else to say. What came out of her lips was completely unexpected...

"I'm your mother."