“Well, that’s a step up from being left on a doorstep by hobos. Aliens probably sent you down from a UFO or something. Trust me, honey, it wasn’t the stork.” another one of them commented. Then they all laughed, whether it was at me, or just in the midst of me. “Well, you must remember that things work differently in the good young U.S. of A. Orphan children need compassion,” she emphasized gleefully, her beady eyes gleaming. She gave me a look of fake sympathy, as if to say, you odd creature. I gritted my teeth. “My father loves me very much. I am the center of his world,” I shot back. I could already feel the tears stinging my face. “In what universe is that?” one of them laughed. “He probably wanted to get rid of you for the summer. Weirdo.” At this point, I was streamed. I bolted up from my seat and stomped my foot. “Who the hell do you think you all are? You don’t know me, and you don’t know my father, so shut up! I’ve had enough of this!” Then I called them a word that my father told me never to use.