Anthony's Point of View
I groaned at my watch. 12:19 pm; We had only been here for two hours and we've only finished four out of ten shoots done. This was going to be a LONG day...
"I know," my best friend Ian came up behind me and sighed. "I'm already done, too. This is the sketchiest place we've shot at. I just want to finish and go home, but it seems like we'll be here forever."
It was. Our crew drove out of our small and safe suburban neighborhood outside of Sacramento to south side of LA. Dogs barked constantly, yelling and cursing came from every alley way, and every building looked unoccupied, and I guessed that was the plan. I knew people were in there, but something told me (maybe the broken windows and deserted streets) these people wanted it to look abandoned.
Perfect for our shot. Not for me.
"Let's just get this done," I motioned, finishing off the water bottle. At the sound of another dog barking, followed by a chorus of twenty, I added, "And fast."
Ian nodded and patted me n the back as we walked back to the rest of the crew in our Zelda and Link costumes, me being Zelda. I hope no one sees me in this, I prayed, I don't even want to know how many guys want to kick my ass for wearing this.
But as I walked away from the concessions' table, my iPhone rang. I went back to see an unknown number pop onto the phone. I simply ignored it, thinking it was probably a wrong number. But a few moments after I clicked 'ignore', it called again. This time I picked up. "Um, hello?" I said, awkwardly.
"Hello!" a peppy, and almost annoying, voice called through the speaker. "Is this Anthony Padilla?"
So I guess they were trying to reach me. "Yes?" It came out as more of a question. I cleared out my throat. "Can I help you?"
"I sure hope so!" the women jeered. Wow she's getting annoying fast..."I'm calling from the East Coast Missing and Exploited Children service."
What the hell? "Oh," I mumbled after getting over the confusion. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"
"Well, over here in the big Apple we have a little girl named Abigail who-"
Were these people really asking me to adopt? Really, are you that desperate? I suppressed a laugh. "Um, no thank you. I'm not interested in adoption."
She laughed, which was more of a high pitched scream. I pulled the phone away from my ear in pain. "No, silly! Due to recent tests and matching, we've found a blood relation between you and Ms. Abigail. You're siblings!"
My face scrunched in co fusion. What? Ok this women's crazy…
Then the epiphany came. Well, this was the worst prank ever.
"Alright, who is this?" I asked with a cooperative laugh. "Michelle? Yeah, this is probably this worst prank in the entire world. Bye, Michelle."
But as I pulled the phone away from my ear, I heard, "Wait, wait!"
"What? I get the joke, I get the joke. Great job, whatever!"
"My name isn't Michelle," the women claimed. Her cheery voice disappeared. "It's Emily, and I do work with East Coast Missing and Exploited Children service."
The smile slowly fell from my face. "Wait, what?" I glanced around to see Ian motioning me to come over to the shot, but I waved him off. He scrunched his eyes and raised his hands questioningly. I ignored him and turned back around.
"Abigail Brooke is a fifteen year old at St. Mary's Orphanage. Due to recent blood tests, one's compared to hers and yours, we found a match between you both."
I couldn't find words.
She sighed, like she hears this every day. "When you gave a blood sample to the cop the day your house was robbed, your sample was kept for future references in the system. On the same day here in New York, all orphanages were required to send in blood relation test. The two samples were compared and a relationship was found. Although the chances were a million to one, it happened."
"No." I denied, flabbergasted. "No, it's not possible. How could we possible be related?"
"Do you know who your mother was?"
This caught me by surprise. "Well no, not really." I said. "She left my dad and me when I was ten."
"What we can deduce is when she left, she was..." The lady cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. "Pregnant. With another man's child."
Immediately, my throat dried. I've hated her my whole life for leaving me and my dad, but now? Knowing she cheated (not just cheated, had sex with another man!) made me want to…just want to~!
"~We can infer that the mother left baby Abigail on the footsteps of St. Mary's Orphanage as a new born baby. What we've learned is a mother who gives up a child is either one of three things: unable to care for the child, which is rarely the case, mentally ill, or involved in a business including crack cocaine or something. Effects on the child could trace back to the mother, getting her in trouble for usage. It's usually the third one, which is most likely this case. Unfortunately, we can also infer that her mother, who was been missing since 15 years ago, is...not with us anymore. Her name was~"
"~Cheyenne Wess." I'd heard the drug stories from my dad when I was a kid. He would be on the phone with the NYPD all night because she had gotten into some sort of trouble. My dad didn't think I could hear the conversations.
It must be true.
I dropped my phone right out of my hand. It fell to the ground with a thump. It took me a while to realize what I had done. Quickly, I picked the phone back up. As I stood up, Ian was there, asking me what was going on. I shushed him and went back to the phone. He rolled his eyes. If only he knew…
"What...what happens now?" I breathed.
"Well, now the family counselors here at WCMEC set a meeting. We see what we can work out between you two. When a child is put into an orphanage an infant, the first blood relation found is automatically made the legal guardian."
"Wait, what?" Now, I was yelling and Ian was about to pull the phone from my hands. I slapped him away, but he kept trying to get it away from me.
"Yes, sir. We will contact you in a couple of days for a meeting." Her operator voice was complete gone. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Padilla." The last thing I heard was a blank dial tone.
Slowly, I brought the phone from my ear. I felt light headed and floaty feeling. As Ian spun me around, I found he had been yelling at me, but I hadn't heard a word.
"Anthony!" he cried in my face. I couldn't tell if he was mad or worried. "Tell me right now! What is going on?"
My face felt numb and my feet slipped from under me. My hands flew to Ian's shoulders and he grabbed my forearms to steady me. "I...I have a sister." For the final time, my knees gave out and I tumbled toward Ian's torso. I could barely hear him yell, "Whoa-whoa-whoa! Hey, I need some help over here! Anthony, can you-?"
But that's all I heard as my lights went out.
