Real If you really knew me, you would hate me And if you hate me I would know you know me I must pretend to be one that you love But if you are not the real you, would the real us be perfect?

Morning Greasy bacon, buttery toast, and bottles of jam cluttered the table. Sitting on the table sides was Mya, Mya's mom, Jen, and Mya's dad, Stephen. Outside, gold finches, chickadees, morning doves and bluejays sung their jumbling songs, sounding like a chorus of out-of-toon, screeching kids. Stephen started the conversation, first taking a mouthful of crisp toast before he spoke. "It's a great day to go hiking, Mya," he took another bite of toast then continued, "We'll both go with you if you want," he nodded towards Jen, who had picked up a piece of bacon and was slowly chewing on it. Jen smiled, "We would love to go with you, Hun." Mya stared at her empty plate and shook her head. Why do they try? Mya thought. Ever since the adoption, Mya didn't want to talk to anyone, she had pretty much become mute. Stephen and Jen weren't her real parents,they had adopted her yesterday, hopeful of a real family, one that could only be whole with a child. Author's note: let me know if I should write more.