Finding My Lost Love | Teen Ink

Finding My Lost Love

November 16, 2007
By Anonymous

As I walk down the cold, busy New York streets, I think to myself, “I hope she recognizes me,” as I turn the corner towards the fashion district. It’s mid November, and it’s freezing cold. As the snow falls down from the gloomy gray sky, I stop to give a homeless man some change, then, go inside a very tall penthouse building; this is where my story begins.
My name is Nefertiti Young and I am an eighteen years old 5’7’’ African/Indian American. I was born on January 1 in Chicago, Illinois to my biological mother, Lady Cee Young, an aspiring actress. At one she gave me up because she lost all her money to gambling, and she used me as collateral. At that point the man she gave me to put me in Happy Trails Foster Home. That is where Ms. Ann Louise Urfrateys and husband Mr. Steven Joseph Washington adopted me. Mr. Steven was a Wall Street powerhouse and lived in New York City with Ms. Ann, a candy maker. They were very rich and famous in New York, and the news that they had adopted was all over television. As I grew up, I was always in the lime light at the extravagant parties they always held in the penthouse apartment. The guest use to say, “When she grows up she going to be a fine young lady,” and “How sweet she is,” or “She is going to change the world with her beauty.” Now I’m eighteen and look like I could be a Victoria’s Secret model. Wow, things change quickly.
“Ding,” went the elevator as it stopped on the fifteenth floor. As I walked out the elevator into my foster mother and father’s penthouse apartment, I stopped at the mirror and looked at myself for a few minutes. As I stood there and said out loud to myself, “I wonder if I look like her. Maybe she dressed me up in cloths that looked just like hers.” As she said that, Ms. Ann walked in the front door with three shopping bags in one hand and a bag with paper work in the other.
“How was your walk,” she said.
“It was fine. A little cold and snowy, but it was nice.”
“I have some things to tell you, come and sit down next to me on the couch.”

As the words came out of her mouth, she chuckled a little inside. She had finally set up the perfect plan to get rid of Nefertiti, and it was perfect. She hated Nefertiti since she was a child. She use to be the lime light of the parties, and when Nefertiti came, she stole it from her, and as she grew up, she became more and more beautiful everyday, and her intelligence shinned through her radiant smile and sweet considerate personality. She use to yell at her and talk bad about her to all her friends until she lost all her friends because they liked Nefertiti. She was so jealous that she drove her husband to divorce her. Nefertiti never knew, because she kept it to herself. And now that she knows something that would get rid of her, she is going to do everything in her power, even if it hurts her, to get her out of her life.

As we sat on the couch, she told me that my mother was alive in Chicago and was looking for me. The fact that my mother was still alive made me so happy that I weep with tears of joy. I immediately asked Ms. Ann if I have permission to go find my mother. With that statement Ms. Ann screamed on the inside, because finally she would be rid of that horrid girl and could live her life in the spotlight once again, all because she lied and told me that my mother was alive, knowing that she had died twelve years ago.
I was on a flight to Chicago within two hours of finding out that my mother was alive. As I was about to take my seat in business class, I found out I had to move to coach because first and business were being occupied by Beyonce and all her entourage. I was then seated by a Yale student who was going to Chicago for an interview with a CEO of a business that I can’t remember. The students’ name was Trevor Haman, and he was from New York, New York - That was kind of weird because we both live in New York. He is 6’0’’, Caucasian, African American, and Indian. He loves the environment (just like I do), is nice, considerate, loving, and the sweetest boy I’ve every met. His father works for Microsoft and set him up with the interview for an internship at the firm. As we conversed about art, music, the future, and our lives, I thought to myself, “He is really cute; I wish he could come with me on my search, so I could have someone to talk to.”
Three hours later, we arrived at the airport in Chicago. As we walked out together, I thanked Trevor for listening and said good bye. I barely found my luggage, and when I did find it, I almost got stuck in the hole where the luggage goes back in. If it wasn’t for a nice man and his son, my luggage and I would have been stuck on the conveyer belt going around and around.
I was about to walk outside when I stopped to think about Trevor. He was so cute and nice. He was the best listener, and I think he really cared about me finding my mother. I stepped outside and a gust of wind brought me back to reality as the November winds hailed at me. I quickly put on my jacket and started towards the street to call a taxi. As I waved, not one taxi stopped until I finally gave up.
“Giving up quickly I see. To think I thought you were the person to never give up,” a deep voice says.

When I spin around to see who said that, I fell right into Trevor’s arms.
“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in a taxi to the city by now,” I replied.
“Well, as I was walking out I was thinking about you and thought that I might help you look for you mother.”
“I don’t need any assistance, “I am a big girl,” and I can take care of myself,” I said swiftly.

As Trevor stepped back to walk away I thought to myself, “If he came back to help me, then I should accept his offer to help.”
“Wait. I’m sorry, that was very rude of me. You can come and help me search, but why,” I wondered.
“Because the way you spoke so strongly about finding her, I thought that I could help you out, and it’s always good to have a friend to talk too.”

When he called me his friend, I think I cried on the inside. I thought he liked me, but I guess he just thinks I’m only friend potential. Even though my heart is broken, I still have a friend to talk to on my journey, and that’s what’s important.
“WeeOhhWee,” Trevor went as he whistled us a cab. When the cab stopped, the cabby popped the trunk, so we could put our things in there, and he unlocked the doors. Being such a gentleman, Trevor opened the door and let me slide in, watching me as I blushed and got in the car after I did. I thought, “Oh that was so nice! He is cute and sweet,” as I tried not to show my face knowing how red it was.
Our first stop was at the hotel. We got two rooms, right next to each other at the Hilton. Then, we took a cab to Happy Trails Foster Home to get my papers and find something out about who brought me there and why.
When we first arrived at Happy Trails I knew that I had been here before. I could feel my essence all over the place and I knew for a fact that this was the correct place. I told Trevor, “I have been here before. I can remember now. It’s all coming back to me.”
Trevor said, “So you’re positive that this is the right place?”
“Okay. I believe you.”

We walked inside and were swarmed by children. That is when a Ms. Robinson, the foster home manager, asked, “Are you two here to adopt?”
We replied in unison, “No.”
“Well, then, why are you two here?”
I stepped forward and said, “I use to live here. I was brought here when I was one, my name is Nefertiti Young. My mother used me as collateral and gave me away to a man because she lost all her money to gambling. A Ms. Ann Louise Urfrateys and Mr. Steven Joseph Washington adopted me when I was two.”

As I told my story, I glanced over at Trevor. He had his head low and was very quiet. When I looked a little harder, I could see a tear fall out the corner of his eye. Ms. Robinson was stunned and kept on asking if I was okay. When I finished, she said to come with her. Trevor was in front, and I was a few steps behind him observing all the children, reminiscing about when I lived here.

We entered an office where she told us to have a seat. Then, she walked to a big file cabinet and pulled a draw containing the names of children whose last name ends with the letters X-Z. She pulled a large manila folder with the name Nefertiti Young on it and placed it in my lap. When I opened the folder, it had all my information before I got to the foster home and when I was here.
“We were given your birth certificate, social security, and other information when a Mr. Onex Jones brought you here,” said Ms. Robinson.
“Who is this Mr. Onex Jones that you speak of,” I wondered.
“He said your mother gave you to him for some money, like you said, because she could not afford to take care of you and her at the same time. Plus, she lost all her money gambling. After that she had roamed the streets stripping and standing on corners hustling for money.”

When she said that, I broke out in tears. Trevor had taken me in his arms and was holding me tightly as I got more hysterical every minute. I finally calmed down and asked if Mr. Onex had an address or phone number for me to contact him. Ms. Robinson said yes, gave me the number and address, and put the file away.
“You think Mr. Onex knows where my mom is,” I asked Trevor as we walked through the foster homes doors.
“I think he does. What if he doesn’t know? What you going to do?” Trevor asked.
“Just keep on searching, I guess.”

We got into the cab and went to 964 Butugly Street. I used Trevor’s cell to call Mr. Onex as we pulled up in front of a raggedy apartment building in the ghetto with graffiti on the walls and crack heads standing in front begging for change. As we got out of the car, Mr. Onex walked out the front doors of the building.
“Are you Nefertiti Young,” he asked.
“Yes. Are you Mr. Onex Jones,” I said.
“Yes. Oh look how you have grown. When your mother gave you to me, I thought how I was going to raise a child in the ghetto. That is why I put you in a foster home.”
“So my mother did give me up.”
“Yes she did.”

Mr. Onex asks us if we would like to go inside. We say, yes, as he leads us into the building and up four flights of stairs into a small one room apartment. He tells us to take a seat while he goes and gets us some bottled water. As he walks back, he picks up a photo album and hands it to me and Trevor. I opened it, and there were pictures of a little girl in front of the building we are in now.
“Who is the little girl,” I asked, “is that me?”
“That’s you,” Mr. Onex said.
“Really, you look so innocent. What happened?” Trevor said, trying to be funny.
“I still am innocent.”
“So did you come to find your mother’s burial site,” Mr. Onex said interrupting the conversation.
“What,” I say, looking very surprised.
“Yeah, your mother died twelve years ago. I called your foster mother and told her. Didn’t she tell you? That’s what I thought you were here for”, a confused Mr. Onex said.

When those words come out of his mouth, I began to cry more than I did when I was at the foster home. I always thought that I would one day be reunited with my mother, and to find out that she is dead, I felt like someone stabbed me in my chest. I had traveled all this way to find out that she is dead, when Ms. Ann…Ms. Ann she knew, she is the reason why I’m here. She always was jealous of me, and this was a way to get back at me. I am going to give her a piece of my mind.
“Can you tell me where her grave is,” I said.
“Sure,” Mr. Onex says.
As he writes down the address of the cemetery, Trevor asks me if I was ok. I said yes, knowing that I was truly alone in the world. We leave Mr. Onex’s apartment and stand outside to wait for the cab.
“Are you sure you’re okay,” Trevor says.
“Yes,” I say.
“You know what. I’m not okay. I have no one now. I always thought that I have my momma out there looking for me, but it was all a lie”
“You’re not alone. You have me, and I’m always going to be here for you. I’m always going to be your friend.”
“But that’s just it, you’re always going to be my friend, but I want something more. I want someone to hold me at night, and to help me get well when I get sick. I wanted you to be that somebody, but you just want to be friends.”
At that moment a light clicked in Trevor’s head. He finally figured out what he was looking for in life in that moment in time. He wanted to be with me, and he now knows that I want to be with him too. While I’m still crying Trevor grabs my hands and kisses me. As his lips touch mine, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, as I feel like I’m floating in the clouds. When I open my eyes, I see Trevor smiling. I feel certain happiness flow through my body when the cab pulls up in front of us.
We take a flight back to New York, so I can confront Ms. Ann and tell her off. When we pulled up to my apartment building, we got out quickly and ran to the elevator. When we got to the fifteenth floor, I got my key out to open the door, but the door did not budge.
“She must have changed the locks,” I say.
“Why,” Trevor asks.
“I guess she thought I might come back.”

I told Trevor to ring on the door bell and say that he has a package to give her. So Trevor did what I told him to do, and Ms. Ann opened the door just like I predicted.
“What is it? I have things to do,” Ms. Ann said.
“I have a package for you,” Trevor says.
“And the package Is me,” I say.

When I walk inside Ms. Ann is shocked to see me. I tell her that I went to Chicago only to see my mother’s grave. Ms. Ann acts all surprised and concerned, not knowing that I know she lied to me just to get me to leave. When I tell her that I know that she knew my mother died twelve years ago and that she lied just to get me out of the house. Ms. Ann says that I was always beautiful, and everyone loved me when they were supposed to love her. I told her that I am beautiful on the inside and the outside, and you will always, always be ugly.

After this Trevor and I moved into a one bedroom apartment and have been dating for three months. We are now setting up a place where we can help foster children find their biological parents. I have been through the experience of trying to find my mother, and I don’t want other children to have to go through the same thing that I had to go through. My story will be told to children all over the world of my brave journey and me finding my lost love.

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