Welcome to Gaia! ::

I never knew my father. Knowing my mother was only fifteen when she had me, unmarried and without prospect, I had always imagined him as an irresponsible young man who had bailed out when he learned his girlfriend was pregnant. I had never thought that the truth was a bit different. Yes, he had bailed on my mother, but it was because of responsibility.

My mother explained it to me on my sixteenth birthday. That day, her second day in the hospital, she had propped herself on her pillows and explained. She was simply too young when she had me, and her health had never been the same. She was fifteen when she gave birth, though she had been fourteen when she became pregnant.

I really didn’t want to hear it. I fidgeted in my hard plastic chair, glancing at the dim shadows cast by the fluorescent lighting and the heart monitor.

“It was back when we lived in Alaska, and his name was Andrew Elke.”

That caught my attention. I looked up immediately. “You mean…”

My mother blushed.

My stomach dropped out. I felt horrible, ill. “You mean that’s how you came up with my name?” I wasn’t opposed to the thought of being named after my father, but then again it wasn’t a common thing. And my father had bailed, hadn’t he? Why would my mother want to be reminded of that every time she said my name? And why on Earth hadn’t she had the sense to name me—

Suddenly she shoved a picture toward me, and I stared at it. A man stared back at me, obviously in his thirties. He was smiling kindly, with a scruffy beard and wrinkles at the edges of his eyes. On his shirt was a little name plate that read ‘Andrew Elke’.

“So this is him?” I said weakly. As was my habit, I tucked a loose strand of my long hair behind my ear.

My mother looked uncomfortable. “Was.”

That alarmed me. “Was…?” I repeated it slowly.

Her cheeks turned pink. “That picture was taken a year before you were born.”

My mind went blank. My mouth went dry. I managed to make a startled gurgle of surprise before she hurriedly spoke.

“Now, please don’t think badly of him,” she pleaded. “I’m as guilty has he was, perhaps even more so. Though I was nothing more than a girl then, I pushed him, and he gave in. He was guilty about it, then, you know, his daughter was my age when it started…”

“What?” My voice broke shrilly.

“I loved him!” My mother proclaimed it hotly. “I didn’t care if he was married!”

“What!” This time it was a shriek. “Mom!” Suddenly I felt sick, nauseous, and I wanted to run and throw up. I got to my feet and rushed out into the hall, my mother calling after me. I still had the picture tightly clasped in my hand. I was shaking visibly. Maybe that was my blood sugar acting up again. I ducked into the public restrooms and hid myself in a stall, tucking my head between my knees like I was told to in health class. I took a few deep breaths and went to wash my hands once I felt better, feeling just like I was covered in dirt. So I was the product of an affair. Admitting it to myself made my heart skip a beat, and made all the butterflies in my stomach become stones struggling to rise from a dark pit, on wings made of lead. I ended up washing my hands twice.

I stared into the bathroom mirror, contemplating my dark eyes, which my mother had always said were the same as my father’s. It made me wonder just what my father was like, if he was low enough to have an affair with a little girl.

Oh god! My father was Michael Jackson!

And she had named me after him!

“Elke? Elke Jones?” A nurse poked her head through the door. I stared at her as she repeated herself. Reluctantly I stepped forward. I had to, considering I was the only one in the restroom at that time.

“Your mother wants to talk to you,” the nurse said. She smiled warmly. “Elke. Isn’t that a strange name? You must hear that all the time.”

“Yeah,” I said dryly.

My mother was still propped up on her pillows when I reentered the room. She seemed a bit paler than she had before.

“Honey,” she said. “I understand. But I can’t change anything, you know… What’s done is done.”

“I get it,” I said irritably.



We lost our house about a month later. I hadn’t known we were so poor until that point. Rightly, it came as a shock. We had never been well-to-do, but I had never thought we were in debt to the point of repossession.

As a side note, I also learned that I had no friends. The people I had called my friends did not want to be friends with the homeless girl. I abandoned them, quickly getting a job to get some sort of income for myself. Mother was too weak to work, and her unemployment checks were not enough. I paid for my own food, and a mangy hotel room not far from the hospital. Soon I was struggling in school, pulling two jobs, lying to my mother every time I saw her, telling her I was living with a friend, well-off in school, with a well-paying job. I tried as hard as I could in class, however, because I had learned from my mother’s lack of schooling that it was important to have as much of it as you could.



I met Sage three months before my seventeenth birthday, in April. It was a wonder I survived the winter, but somehow I did, and that day was a rare one, where I had the day off for both jobs. I was walking ‘home’, and had just visited mother in the hospital when I saw it.

It was a mansion, and I was confused, having walked down this street almost every day for the past year. How come I had never noticed it before? Across the street, I could see the large hedges and the gate, and the far away mansion roof. And standing outside of the gate, staring at me, was a boy.

He was young, with dark hair and bright blue-green eyes, eyes that studied me with wisdom beyond his years. He seemed inquisitive, curious, but not toward the suddenly appearing mansion. He was definitely looking at me, totally ignoring the gates he stood in front of. I thought for a second that I was the only one seeing the house and the gates, and the tall hedges that lined the other side of the street. Conveniently, two women walked by at that moment.

“Well, I never noticed that big house before,” one said.

“Neither have I,” the other said, shocked. “Well. These days, we all just move too fast, don’t we? We’ve got to pay more attention to our surroundings, you know?”

Well, that confirmed the existence of the mansion. I turned and continued toward my hotel. I was tired, and it was best to just get back, wasn’t it?

“Excuse me.”

I turned, surprised to find the boy right behind me. I glanced at the now devoid gates. He had moved awfully fast—

“I’m looking for a housekeeper,” he said. “Someone to clean and cook, you know? Must be durable, not for a girl with heart problems or back problems, or anything of that sort. You seem to fit the bill. Care to apply?”

I’m sure my face twisted with surprised disgust. “Uh, I’m sorry, I… I’m not interested…”

“It’s got benefits,” the boy said. He must have been, what, a full seven years younger than me? “Free lodging and meals, along with spending money as payment. Insurance covered. It’s really a no-lose situation…”

I brushed him off. “I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to walk home.”

“Since when have you had one of those, Elke?” he said.

I whirled around, my stomach becoming an empty pit. “Wait, what?”

He acted as if he hadn’t said anything. “Come on, you’ll be the housekeeper, won’t you? As much free time as you want, so long as the job gets done.”

I was feeling confused. Maybe he hadn’t said my name after all; maybe I had just heard it. He kept talking, like a salesman, advertising the position. Finally, I interrupted, frustrated.

“Housekeeper for who?” I gasped.

“Whom,” he corrected. “And a housekeeper for me, of course!”

I tried to walk away, then, but he was in front of me again. I was getting frustrated. “Listen,” I huffed. “Please just leave me alone!”

“I can’t do that!” he said. “You need me and I need you! We need each other!”

“Just go ask your mom for a nanny,” I gasped, trying to move around him. He was too quick however, and suddenly I was staring into a pair of whining puppy dog eyes, of oceanic color, trained into mine.

“Mom and Dad are gone,” he said. “And I don’t need a nanny!”

“Please just let me leave,” I whined, knowing I could barely stand against his cuteness. It was just illogical to follow this crazy little kid.

“I can’t,” he said. “Come on, I’ll take you in tonight. You can cook dinner!”

“Dinner?” The thought was appealing. I hadn’t had a true meal in a long while… As if on cue, my hunger began gnawing at my stomach, and the boy grinned.

“Come on! You can start it now! I’m sure there’s enough in the pantry for a good meal.” He tugged on my hand. “Come on! Come on!”

Against my better judgment, I let him lead me through the tall mansion gates.