Half of our actions and decisions in life are based on what others think and say about us. We sometimes act out of the box just to be accepted by the people around us, and we sometimes forget who we are; a behavior that detours us from where we are in this world.

Little did we know that people's judgments are the ties on our wings hindering us to soar up high, clasping us to achieve our aims, and blinding us to look at higher perspectives in life.

I've always done my best, pushing myself to the limit just to be accepted by my foster father. I'd spent my entire life seeking his approval... his acceptance.

Yet I never did. And seems like I will never do.

I was adopted as a baby. How did I know? They don't want to keep the truth from me, and because I crave my father's approval, I always feel unwelcome.

He was cold to me, and he became even colder after the horrifying incident that occurred in our lives.

Since Lucia, my best friend, my consoler, my little cheerleader, and their true daughter died, everything become worse on my behalf.

Lucia was the perfect. I always remember her as a gaily girl, sweet, a good girl and all suggestive adjectives that can describe her pretty personality.

She was always been the favorite. The apple of the eyes of everyone. She was dad's lovely girl, whereas I am nothing more than an intruder in their home. An eyesore.

I am nothing compared to her.

"I'm sorry." I stammered, tears falling down my cheeks. "It's my entire fault. If it wasn't for me she must be still alive, sitting here with you. If it wasn't because of me—" I hiccupped. My heart constricted in my chest; my hands balled into a fist.

"Enough." Dad snapped.

I can't look them straight in the eyes not feeling shameful. I was the reason why their only daughter wasn't in their arms now.

"No one is blaming you, Anna." Mom tries to soothe me.

But dad did.

Mom's eyes were sad, and I knew she yearned for Lucia. She may not admit it, but I know she was hurt. No one can describe her pain and grief at losing her. No one can fathom her pain as she bears her baby for nine months and endures excruciating pain for the sake of her child's birth. And in the face of such adversity, all those sacrifices were thrown off the bay because of the accident.

I'm sure mom was upset, especially since everything is still fresh in our minds. It hurt me so much to see her so dole. And I know that no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to replace Lucia.

--------

"Where did I put it?" I cursed.

I rummaged through my tables, drawers, and cabinets, and under my pillows. I crouched under my bed to look for my phone in case it fell off. I went so far as to look in the bathroom, but there was none.

Ghaaad. Where did I put it?

I pulled my hair up and puffed in exasperation. I'd been looking for my phone almost half an hour now. I scanned my room once again and my eyes landed on the telephone. A small smile crept onto my lips. Maybe Mia has my phone?

I dialed Mia's number, but it was out of range. I called their house number but no one answered, so I tried to call Luvelle and Zonia but realized I didn't have their phone numbers. Instead, I dialed my phone number, and luckily, it rang, but no one answered. "Please pick it up," I muttered.

I dialed again and was about to hang up after the third ring, thinking she was still sleeping, when an unfamiliar voice echoed at the other end of the line.

'Hello?'

"Who are you?" I asked. "Where's Mia? What have you done to her?" I added, my voice lacing with worry and accusation.

I let out a gasp when I realized I had practically left them at the party without saying anything. What if they had been looking for me the entire time? What if they got themselves into trouble at the party? My mind was clouded with negative thoughts, and I felt a pang of guilt for leaving my friends without saying anything.

"Answer me!" I demanded. I pursed my lips and paced back and forth in my room. My Shih Tzu, Scooty, barked and wiggled his tail. My face softened and a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I kneeled down and scooped her up her feet.

"What are you talking about?" he said. The unknown receiver sounded amused but annoyed.

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Who are you? Why'd you have my phone? Did you open it? Did you see or read some—"I couldn't finish my sentence when I heard a short click and the line cut off. I looked at the phone, perplexed.

Did he... Did he hang up on me?

I dialed my number with enough force and heaved a sigh of relief when he answered because if he didn't, he'll see what he hoped he hadn't seen.

'Nay, you can't hurt a fly.' My mind objected.

"How dare you hang up on me?! Who do you think you are, huh? The President's son? The Prince of England? A god falling from Olympus?" I chided.

'I prefer the latter.' he chuckled lowly. I scoffed at his cockiness.

'By the way, Ashton is the name.' I could practically sense the smirk on his face.