I bend my knees then launch off from the ground, my fingers just grasping the basket handle and pulling it down. Of course, because the universe is a vengeful thing and I'm in a rush, the whole basket topples over instead of sliding off the shelf and into my waiting arms as planned.
"Ugh!" I shout, a few more unintelligible foul words coming to mind as the baskets contents hit the shelf and scatter around me. On the positive side, the trainers shoe box does at least clatter nearby to me...on the negative side, so does a box of papers which then bangs on the shelf and spills it's documents like a rain of confetti around me.
Pulling the sneakers to me, I shove my feet into them then hurriedly tie the laces. I begin to pick up the mish mash of papers strewn about the floor, trying to tidy them up in time. I'm picking up the last few and beginning to think I'll make it when a certain piece of paper catches my eye, reading 'Adoption Certificate'.
I place the other papers back in their allocated box without taking my eyes off of the four in front of me, paper-clipped together. With shaky hands, I pick up the bundle of papers and begin to scan the one on top uncertainly. Half of me wants to pack it in the box and not dare to learn of its contents, while the other half of me wants to dissect and criticize every single word standing black and ominous against the white background.
I read the first, satisfying my curious nature. It states that I was adopted by my current parents on a date which would have made me two years old at the time, although I feel as if I'm reading it through a third-person perspective and not as the now grown up child stated on the document. My mind feels separate, as if the trauma of finding this made it remove itself from my body and so is now floating around the room as an independent entity
I feel my stomach constrict, my hands shaking as I remove the paper clip from the stack. My head is spinning as if I'm on a teacup ride at the fun fair, going around and around and around out of control until I feel ready to be sick.
No freaking ways. Aidan was right.
I vaguely hear a car pull into my driveway, the car hooting cheerily as it stops near the house. A car door slams, but I'm not even aware of the sound as I turn my attention to the second piece of paper. This one is a birth certificate, listing my name and the name of my supposedly real parents.
I feel my mind barely acknowledge the names of the listed mother and father, and so I force myself to read it a second time round to reabsorb the information in my state of shock.
Mother: Laurie Walton
Father: Calub Josdo