Family History

The building had one story, but even so, it towered over me, like an elephant towering over a mouse. In all my years of living, I'd never seen anything like it.

Is Angelina going to give me away?! I thought worriedly.

I'd seen a lot of things. I saw the foolish teenage sisters who decided to buy me - their names were Maeve and Mabel - grow up to be young, successful women with children. I was there at their funerals, sitting peacefully on their graves. The sisters were very stubborn and demanded to be buried right next to each other. So that's how they were. In their will - which they also did together - they handed me over to one of their nephews.

With the nephew of my previous owners, I went all around the world; Cuba, San Juan, California, Santiago, Germany, Singapore, and more. It didn't matter where we went, the nephew always picked the loveliest flowers from those places and planted them inside of me, with some water. His wife, who absolutely hated the gold flower design I had, tried to persuade him to throw me out and buy another vase, but the nephew never did. I found that very surprising, especially because anyone could convince him into trading $1,000.00 for a water bottle. The nephew, once he'd grown up and felt as though he was about to disappear from the face of the earth, gave me to his daughter.

The daughter - whose name was Verona - was a rather careless girl, however, she was one of the people I felt particularly attached to. The one time she dropped me left a tiny crack in my rim, though it didn't prevent her from tickling me with water and flowers like all my former owners had. Beautiful, blooming, orange hybrids, white tulips, and pink roses. I was Verona's most important vase, and she put all of her great projects in me. She worked day and night, with me next to her the whole time, combining different types of flowers. That was her job.

I watched calmly, resting on Verona's tall, mahogany wood desk, as she divorced her abusive (first) husband and filed a restraining order against him. She died early, and rather than waiting to discuss her mother's will, Verona's daughter took me far away.

With her, I learned more about the English language and its origins. Verona's daughter was a librarian, but her library was barely visited by people, so all she did was sit in between the piles of books she had made for herself and read about grammar, punctuation, and figurative language. Sometimes, Verona's daughter looked so sorrowful and lonely that I was desperate to jump off of the checkout desk she'd put me on and accompany her. Verona's daughter constantly read to me. She would tell me things that she never told anybody else, her deepest secrets. I listened closely, my attentiveness to her soft, fruity voice never wavering in the slightest. She wanted a child, but not a partner. She wanted to adopt, but for a child that looked like she did. Every night, she would cry herself to sleep, and I was only able to sit comfortably on her desk and think about how much I wanted to help her. One day, as Verona's daughter was walking down the street, she spotted a baby boy in a box. She began to believe that Verona was sending her a blessing, and every time she talked to me, she would feel happy again.

Verona's daughter's son, who she had legally adopted, took me away from her because he believed that she was getting extremely exploitative. His name was Benjamin, and he was one of the most selfless people I've ever seen. He was a billionaire because of his job as a physician, however, he donated money to shelters for the homeless and hospitals for children. Unfortunately, after he had a daughter with a parsimonious woman, he died peacefully in his sleep.

His daughter was bulimic, but her mother was negligent, and either way, she didn't worry about her daughter's mental and physical health at all. Morgan talked to me about her life, just like Verona used to. She became skinnier and skinnier, always saying that nobody would care about her anyways.

Why did I have to be a vase? Why couldn't I just be human? I would support her. We would be best friends, always together, and she could tell me all of her problems without worrying about people not responding.

Though Morgan felt like she was the only person on earth with her types of problems; she was too fat, she didn't think she looked good at all, she HATED her glasses and braces, even though she looked nice in them. One of her best friends finally recognized that she was bringing herself down with her self-hate, told her family, and then they got her a therapist. After a week of resisting and refusing the therapist's advice and help, she finally opened up about the demons in her head, and eventually got better. She grew up to be a dog trainer, and she loved her job. She also discovered that she was lesbian, but because lesbian marriages weren't legal at the time, she kept it a secret, dating a girl named Amanda and adopting a baby girl.

This girl's name was Angelina, and as I watched her grow up, I automatically fell in love with her stubborn personality and the way her curly blonde hair bounced in the wind. She acted heartless and aloof, saying that she would punch or slap anyone who touched her, but honestly, she was sweet at heart. She told me about all the crushes she had while putting roses - some of which she had helped her mother plant - in me and adding water. She wasn't very open to anyone else, and so, because I was there for her whenever she needed it, she told me everything.

Now here she was, holding me in her soft hands while she stood in front of the scary building that had only two windows. Angelina had a faint smile on her face, and her eyes were filled with tears.

What is she doing?! Is she throwing me out?! I have a history, her family's history! I'm an important heirloom! She can't be giving me away, right?! I wondered, staring at Angelina.

As if she could read my thoughts, she reassured me, 'No, I'm not giving you away. I'm just giving you to someone very important to me. My son. You'll have a new owner soon.' Angelina whispered to me in her soft voice, stroking the crack in my rim. 'I'm sure he'll take care of you and keep you safe.'