The sunset was a deep orange canvas that mushroomed the partial blue sky, birds chirping their way down the horizon heading back to the comfort of their homes.

The mangrove branches swaying back and forth from the the whooshing of the ocean winds as moms picked their kids off the beach, some being reluctant because of the sand castles still standing while others were still looking for their missing Lego pieces which as nature dictates, will eventually be collected by someone's foot later as they strolled along the beach. Finally, the crowd began to grow smaller as nightfall approached.

Still on the sandy beach, my legs stretched and soaked in the sand, I calmly enjoyed the dead silence that remained after the shouting from the children,honking from the minivans and annoying background music from the family picnics. Charmingly watching the tides and their ebbs, I couldn't help but admire how magnificently the ocean stood, just like life, it can be calm or still, rough or rigid but in the end it will always be beautiful. How can I let go of these; the sunset, the ocean, the silence: it's too early for me to walk away from this picturesqueness.

I stretched my body on the sand calmly resting my head down and feeling the chilliness on my backside from the damp sand. I let out a faint sigh for I was finally at peace.

Eleven years ago I couldn't dictate precisely where I would have posed in life, will I be dead? Forgotten? Stripped from the memories of the ones I loved and hold dear? Will I have achieved all my goals (if I had any during the time).

How could I be this despondent? Dejected and down-casting my own life? I wished I could travel back in time and remind the old me of Alexandre Dumas for there is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what is to die, that we may appreciate the enjoyment of life. Live, then and be happy beloved children of my heart and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and hope'.

Twelve years old Harvey couldn't possibly know all these at once, my mental state was still evolving and bombarded at the same time with more than I could handle. I was short sighted to despair. Never believed in felicity and constantly drowned by what ifs. Someone might say that being an orphan was a burden that ripped off my childhood, but I felt that it was more than what I could put to words. The feeling of being neglected, abandonment, rejected by your own very blood was hard for little Harvey to live with. Yes, I had a mother.

My mother was a woman of choices. I never blamed her for the choices she made. The choice of not bringing up her flesh and blood. The choice of disregarding my very existence and many others. She did what she had to do during the time , and as I will never apprehend the actions she made, she surely knew how to FML. At the age of seventeen, she gave birth to me, a healthy infant, but due to reasons known to herself, she handed me over to the Greenfield Orphanage when I turned two. Since then, the women from the orphanage have been like a family to me and they will forever be held deep inside the ventricles of my heart.

So you see, I never had my mother's love nor my father's protection. I was alone and empty. The love I received from Greenfield was never enough to fill the void left behind by my biological parents. As they say, children shouldn't have to sacrifice so that you can have the life you want. You make sacrifices so your children can have the life they deserve, but this was a land of wilderness to Esther, my mother.

mi padre? I never knew anything about my father, not even his name. The orphanage told me that my mother mentioned nothing about him during the time she signed off my custody. Miss Elizabeth told me that he surely was a handsome fellow telling from my facial appearance. That was a flattering gesture from her that made me feel embarrassed and shy that one might clearly describe it as blushing. She was one hell of an angel, Aunt Liz - that's what I grew up calling her.

So enough about my folks, I feel trapped and suffocating each time one chooses to ask me about the pair.

How could I possibly tell someone outside the orphanage about all these and expect them to understand?

After all the only thing I chose to become of myself was to accept the fate that was already placed upon my fatal soul. It was inevitable.

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If life were predictable it would cease to be life, and be without flavor." -Eleanor Roosevelt

Don't forget the drill Spartans! like, drop a star and comment.