Isaac was the only person who even knew that I'd been in New York. When I'd finally come home I refused to tell anyone where I'd been. I was too afraid that they'd find out the truth.

I never imagined to the truth would come and find me, as cliche'd as that sounds.

You've already heard how perfect my little sister is. Frankly, its hard to live in a family where one sibling is so perfect your parents can't help comparing you. My dad was the worst. He used to use those words that every teenager hates the most, why can't you be more like your sister.

I never understood what made her so special. What made her better than me? It was like they created her in a lab to be exactly what they wanted in a daughter. Obviously I was a huge failure. They didn't want anyone who was original, or someone like me who tends to not make sense anymore.

So, when my dad left, I went a little crazy. I just really wanted someone to like me for who I was, anyone, even some random guy who flirted with me at the convenience store.

I started dating a guy from school who told me I was special. Deep down I knew he didn't care about me, but it was easier to pretend he did. Or at least it was then. When I saw the pink dot on that little white plastic strip, I knew just how big of a mess I'd gotten myself into.

I bought a New York paper and read over the adoptions section, making a few phone calls from a pay phone outside Wal-Mart. I know your not supposed to make hasty decisions when its about something as big as this, but I just knew when I'd found the right couple. I never even asked them and they told me how important they thought it was to let a child be themselves, to never try and make them be something they weren't.

I knew I was doing the right thing. I'd only baby-sat once in my life and it had been a total disaster. The four year old had locked me and the seven year old out of the house and when the parents came home they were so mad they refused to pay me.

Mom thought I was just getting fat. I ate lots of candy bars in front of her to keep up that assumption. When baggy clothes weren't cutting it anymore I left in the middle of the night for a bus station with a couple hundred dollars in my wallet.

I didn't steal it. I'd emptied my bank account the week before. The Smith's were going to pay for an apartment for me until the baby came. I tried not to think about it being a real baby. That was too hard. I couldn't even comprehend what I'd done.

By eight months I waddled everywhere. I felt like a duck, sure that if I could have seen my feet over my belly they would have been webbed.

I was waddling down the street one day when I spotted a woman with long blond hair playing with a little girl who looked about four. That was the first time it hit me. I would never see my baby grow up. Never play a game with him or her. Suddenly everything was painfully real to me.

I'd slept with a guy who didn't care about me and we'd made a baby. A real live baby. I could feel it moving around in my stomach. Sure I looked more like there was a basketball in there, but I knew it was a baby.

Usually I could make jokes about anything but I couldn't joke about this. I managed to make it a few blocks down and collapsed on a bench with tears streaming down my face.

Kylie never would get herself in a mess like this.

She was smarter than me, even at ten.

A guy with dirty blond hair sat down beside me. His hair was all frizzy and fluffy and all I could think was how poofy it was."What's the matter?"he asked.

I sniffled."I got knocked up,"I told him, giggling a little at how stupid it sounded. As long as I could joke about it again I knew I was going to be all right.

His eyes intensely stared at me."But that's not why your crying, is it?"

I shook my head."I can't keep it,"I began, and found myself sitting in the middle of New York City telling a perfect stranger everything. No one else in the world had heard my whole story but somehow I felt compelled to let him know.

He said all the right things, and when they were all said he walked me back to my apartment. I was so weak from crying that I could barely walk, so he put his arm around my waist to help me along.

Not that I had a waist anymore. Instead his hand was resting on the side of my stomach. The baby kept kicking right at that spot and he smiled every time he felt it. I wasn't scared anymore and I knew that everything would be all right. I would give my baby to a family that would give him or her everything that I couldn't, and I'd go home and be with my family, no matter how bad things got.

He never even told me his name. Just walked me right up to my door and kissed me on the forehead before walking away.

Its amazing how a stranger can change your life.