Miochondri A Short Story

In sixteen years of life I’ve learned a number of things: don’t eat yellow snow, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell, and perfect families are a thing of fiction. The latter is quite possibly one of the most defining, and painful, lessons I’ve had to accept. Every family has their ups and downs, their love and hate for one another, their secrets. In truth, my family, now essentially only consisting of my parents, myself, and my dog, could be far worse. Yet it could be so much more than a three person unit.
I know little about Jessica Vick. The majority of my knowledge comes from stories I begged my mom to tell me or piecing together her little-used Facebook page. Thirty-some years ago, before I was even a fleeting thought in my …show more content…
When I was a toddler I saw a picture on his desk of a blonde haired child that most certainly was not me; upon asking my mother, she blanched and stuttered out an unconvincing excuse that only a child could accept as truth. A few years later, when I could read, I asked about the small town newspaper clipping on the same desk that contained my grandfather and the unfamiliar curly haired girl named Jessica. Again, it was my mother who explained, although this time she told me the truth. To this day I have no idea why I smiled, accepted the fact my father had another child, and went on my merry way. As an only child I begged my parents to give me a sibling; according to my mom it was my Christmas wish one year. I fantasized about having an older sister who could give me life advice and be my confidante. Perhaps I didn’t know of half-siblings at that point or I was still at the age where if I couldn’t see it, it didn’t exist. Either way, I thought nothing of my half sister for years. My next memory of hearing about her comes from my middle school years. The story behind what happened to bring my dad to such anger to mention her is a long one; I could write another essay about that entirely. In short, it was another instance of him becoming extremely enraged over familial matters and later cutting off more ties. He sat me down one day and calmly but sternly explained that he …show more content…
Perhaps I finally hit the age where my parents excuses weren’t valid; I needed my own truth. It was before class that spring and I decided to see if she existed outside of hushed photographs and my father’s denial. It wasn’t necessarily the easiest hunt, but after searching a few hyphenated last names I came across a profile with a picture that held striking resemblance. The little I knew about her proved it was my half-sister’s profile, complete with a husband, children, and a family that did not include me. It hit me far harder than I expected it would and I spent the remainder of the day stunned by the realization. Never before had I considered her a real person; I hadn’t seen a picture of her beyond the early years. All of a sudden, I was a sister as well as an aunt although I had never met them. Rather than sating my curiosity, there was nothing I wanted more than to contact her. I was angry and depressed and, to a degree, I still am. Not much has changed since I first discovered her profile. I periodically check her Facebook now and again to see if I can find any new information; in the past year she had a second child. My emotions have been all over the place since then. Some days I accept the fact and move on with my life as anyone would. Others, however, aren’t nearly so smooth. There are times of anger and resentment, especially when I see others interacting with their siblings. Some days it’s