Chapter 8 - Michaela's Story
September 21st, 1997 - Los Angeles, California

Adopted. I guess it explained a lot. Grandma always told me that I looked like my mother, but whenever I'd asked for evidence she'd always changed the subject. And Grandma had never had a husband. I know people can have children out of wedlock, but in those days.........
Anyway, I now had thirty days to find my birth family and move in with them, and I didn't have a clue how to go about it. I caught the bus to the LA centre of Births, Deaths and Marriages, hoping that this might be a good place to start off. When I finally arrived, I approached the surly secretary who was typing into her computer.
"Uh...... excuse me?" I said.
"Yes."
"Well, I've uh, just discovered that I was adopted and I was wondering if this was the place where I could find out who and where my birth family are."
"Right. How old are you girly?" The secretary sneered at me above her glasses.
"I'm fourteen and a half."
"Let's see, is fourteen and a half older or younger than eighteen.....'
I could see where she was heading. "Younger but -"
"No one under the age of eighteen is permitted to find out who their birth family are."
"But if I were over eighteen, this would be where I could find out about my heritage?"
The secretary was thoughtful. "Well, yes. But you're not. Goodbye."
I wasn't going to give up that easily. "Please, if I can't find a place to live within thirty days I'll become a ward of the state....... I really need to find my birth family. My adopted grandma is dead and I have no place to live............"
The secretary sneered. "Oh, poor little pretty, blond, rich girl. Quite frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. If you ask me, I think it would do you good to get away from those mansions and designer labels for a few years."
How could this woman be so rude! Obviously she had no sympathy for abandoned orphans. "Look, I have $100 in my pocket right now. If you would only show me my file......"
The secretary's face brightened up immediately. "Of course my dear! And your name is?"
"Michaela Morgan."
She typed my name into the database. "Date of birth?"
"March 14, 1983."
"Good, you're file number 746375364496." The secretary returned a few minutes later with a folder. She held out her hand and I exchanged the money for the folder. "Read away girlie."
I walked over to a sofa and sat down. My file read:

Adopted Name - Michaela Morgan
Given Name - Michaela Manson
D.O.B. - 03.14.1983
Birthplace - Tulsa, Oklahoma
Sex - Female
Mother's Name - Fergie Manson
Father's Name - Skipper Manson
Siblings upon birth -
Neuton Manson - Male
Tweedle-Tay Manson - Male (twin)

I nearly died. These boys, whom I hated and resented so much, were actually my brothers. Not only that, but Tweedle-Tay was my twin brother. No wonder we looked and sounded so exactly alike! No wonder we shared the same birthday. We were twins! My shock quickly turned into excitement. Sure, Manson's music sucked, but I was about to become a member of the most perfect family in the world. They were as quintessential as the Brady Bunch. Now all I had to do was find out where they were.
*********************
I stood in the middle of the newsagency, hoping that no one would notice me leafing through Manson fan mags. I had to find some way of figuring out where they were. Then I saw a list of shows. Manson were due to perform at a charity concert on Staten Island in New York on the 25th of September. I decided that I would catch a bus to New York, suss out the situation and then introduce myself to my mother, father, brothers and sisters. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to see their reactions when they saw me.