“My dear child,
I know you had your doubts about your birth. I couldn't tell you while I was alive so I left you this letter.
Your real parents live in...”
I stared at the unfinished letter in shock. How was I supposed to find my true identity? The contents of the letter were not surprising to me but my father had left me a puzzle to solve without any piece already solved. I ha tried to discover who my biological parents were when he was still alive but whenever I asked questions about them, my father gave evasive answers to my questions.
I started my findings immediately. I checked his chest of
drawers and shelves but nothing helpful was there. My father had a younger brother so I went to ask about my biological parents but he was not helpful either. My father had not confided in anyone about where he got me from. Although my mother had died seven years ago, I had to ask her relatives too. That was not helpful either. She equally did not confide in any of her siblings.
At that point, I knew discovering my real parents would be difficult.
I turned to my only close friend for advice. He seemed more exposed to the world than I was. He thought over it and suggested I re-check my parents' belongings for anything that I did not know, be it a name, an address or a picture. I had many of them – names I did not know, pictures of people I had never seen and adresses of places I've never been to. We did background check on the names and pictures but none helped. We visited the places on the addresses but they did not help too.
However, one sunny day, I was heading to work so I was
at the bus stop nearest to my house, waiting for a taxi. When I got one, I hopped in and the ride started. Everything seemed right till the driver swerved into a light forest which had a dusty track. My heart immediately flew into my mouth. I had a seatmate who ended up being the driver's cohort. He had a revolver and I just had to act calm.
The car halted far in the forest and I was dragged out. I was made to sit on the dusty ground and the two had their guns pointed at me.
“Who are you? What have I done?” I asked.
“Just keep your lips shut!”
The other guy brought out his phone and made a video call.
“We got him. He's here with us.”
“Let me see his face.”
He turned the phone to me and I rested my gaze on a face I had seen somewhere before. I finally recalled how I met him. He attended to me at one of the houses I visited from the addresses I got in my dad's safe.
“Seems you already recall how we met. You're the bastard who wants to steal my place. Guys, finish him off.”
I shut my eyes and shuddered with fear. I heard two gunshots but only one bullet hit my arm. Two gunshots followed but no shot hit me. When I opened my eyes, I saw the two hired killers writhing in pain and a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties, standing over them with his gun. He was dressed in a police uniform.
The young man returned his revolver into his pocket.
“Good morning, sir.”
I slowly stood up, still holding my arm. “Good-good morning, sir.”
“It's obvious you fell a victim. Fortunately, I and my colleagues were here on another mission but I was deliberately left behind in case any of the culprits try to escape.”
“Th-thank you, sir,” I groaned.
Rather than just feel pain, I felt weak and slowly slumped to the ground.
I woke up on a hospital bed and my friend was sitting beside me. He smiled briefly at me.
“It's a relief to have you back.”
“Wh-what happened? Where's the officer?” I asked after recollecting all I could recollect.
“He's gone back to work. He'll be back though.”
A doctor walked in and helped me to sit up. I could still feel pain in my arm although it had been taken care of.
“What about those guys that attacked me?”
My friend sighed. “They're at the police station. The officers had also arrested your brother who sent them.”
“My brother?”
He nodded. “He's your half brother. You have same dad but different mums.”
I sighed. It was then clear to me.
“Your dad will soon be here. He took the next flight.”
“I don't understand.”
“He was in the United States. He had to rush down here.”
“But why on earth did he leave me with my late parents?”
“That's a question you'll have to ask him yourself.”
I nodded.
Hours later, I was at the police station. I wrote a statement and my dad had to reveal why he had to let me live out of home.
My step mother was a strict woman and would have divorced my dad if she had known that he impregnated another woman before she could have her first pregnancy. He revealed that my mum used to be his maid whom he loved but she died few months after giving birth to me.
My dad had to keep me with my late foster parents. The revelation satisfied my curiosity but I did not think I had a chance with the family. My step mother was ready to take me as her child but I did not think that would work.
I turned to Malik, my friend, for advice and he suggested that I live out of the home. He could not see any sincerity in my step mother or her three children. I took to his advice and got an apartment but seldom visited them. Over time, there grew a kind of bond and I could see it myself. The children finally saw me as one of them.
Even after the death of our parents, I grew up to be loved most especially by Lawrence who had once tried to get rid of me.
Here's one of the stories I wrote from one of the story prompts on Writco, a writers' app.