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Lamentation
Another story by Elyse. Read it up...
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Desiree Renee Vaughn. It wasn’t there. She didn’t exist. No birth certificates held a record of her. She had grown up Desiree Renee Durand. Adopted daughter of Eve and Christophe Durand. She was born in Los Angeles, California, United States of America. And she had lived there until she was three months old.
She couldn’t remember the day her parents never returned. From the tiny rumors, overheard conversations, she had been able to piece together that they had died in Russia, their bodies never found.
She couldn’t remember the funeral. The two stones, each marked with a cross, engraved with their names, the dates of their lives, side by side in Arlington Cemetery. She didn’t remember moving in with the Durands’, she didn’t remember them adopting her, she didn’t remember having her name changed, all traces of her past wiped away.
She had grown up unaware of her history. She didn’t know that the loving mother and father that made her cookies and took her to the Eiffel Tower weren’t her parents. They didn’t have the same blood flowing through them. It was an unspoken knowledge, they didn’t say anything, and neither did she.
She remembers the day she got the letter in English. A trip to Washington DC, to learn the language better, to learn about their culture and lifestyle. It wasn’t a question in Desiree’s mind. She was going.
She remembers the way Eve’s eyes misted up when she brought home the letter. That night at dinner, the truth was told. Desiree finally learned her parent’s names, what had happened to them. Michael and Sydney Vaughn were agents in the CIA. They got called out on a mission in Russia, to take down the Alliance. While there, they disappeared. When their wills were read it was Michael’s cousin who ended up with their child.
Her name was changed for the sake of protection, and Desiree Vaughn ceased to exist. When Michael and Sydney had disappeared the Alliance grew stronger. If they found out that Desiree was alive, her life would be in great danger.
And now she is here, with friends in tow. Half of the class had come to Washington, but only a few knew why Desiree was holding two white roses. Searching the graves, their feet lightly crunching the leaves below them, they scanned the numbers. 0012547 and 0012548. That was all that remained of her parents. Two numbers.
Suddenly, she felt her breath leave her lungs. There they were. Sydney and Michael Vaughn. Her parents were beneath her. All resolve left her, and she fell to the ground sobbing. The white roses, once innocent, were covered in tears. The wails reached the lord above, and the threatening clouds opened up, and let out their salty tears.
Placing the flowers beside the graves, she lightly traced the outline of her parents’ names. Slowly gathering strength in her body from the love that flowed from the grave like the rain that flowed from the sky, she pulled herself up. The girls around her had wet faces, not from the rain, but from the anguish that streamed outward.
A black car drove up to the curb, and a man walked slowly up to the graves, to Desiree. His face, a mixture of anguish and an unrecognizable emotion, was set.
“Are you Desiree Vaughn?” he asked when he reached the markers.
Desiree’s head spun. How could this man know who she was, and more importantly, how did he know that she wasn’t Desiree Durand? She slowly nodded her head, too surprised to speak.
“I’m Jack Bristow. I work with the CIA. I think I have someone who might want to meet you if you’ll follow me to the car.”
Desiree felt nervous, and she glanced at the chaperone. After the chaperone gave her the go-ahead, she felt her feet move forward. She was confused and excited all at once. Stepping up to the side of the car, she felt her stomach do a flip. What if he wanted to kidnap her?
Her puzzlement only grew when the door opened. Sitting inside were two people, a man with dark blonde hair and a woman with light brown hair. She turned to Jack and gave him a quizzical glance. He nodded, understanding her confusion. Even though she got a better look at them when they stepped out of the car, she was stilled lost. Who were these people?
The woman gave her a loving smile and then held out her hand to shake. “I’m Sydney. Sydney Vaughn. Your mother.”
Desiree’s jaw dropped. What the hell kind of prank were they trying to play. She smacked the hand away yelling, “Get the hell away from me. Don’t you ever say that. My parents are dead; the graves are right over there. You are sick. Demented. You should rot in hell forever saying that.”
The hurt look on the woman’s face was hard to miss, her eyes glistening from tears that were susceptible to falling at any minute. The man stepped in for her. “Desiree, we’re not lying to you. We have your birth certificate, the pictures, the documents, anything you need to prove it. We didn’t die.”
“Shut the hell up. Anyone can fake that crap. You are sick, twisted, screwed up liars. Lying son of bitches,” She screamed before she began to rave in French. She was stopped short when the man started yelling back at her. Pulling out his wallet, he showed her his driver’s license. Michael Vaughn it read in bold print. She looked at the year and was shocked to find it had expired almost fifteen years ago. A year after they died.
Putting his head back into the car for a second, he pulled out a file. Labeled on the top with loopy handwriting with Desiree, it was filled with records about her life up until she was three months old. Filled with doctor visits and footprints, locks of hair and baby shower invitations, it was proof that these people were her parents.
Looking up at them with shiny, red eyes, she stared in wonderment at them. “Where have you been? You just left me. Didn’t you love me? Was I not good enough?”
The look on their faces, so pained and agonized, was enough to break her heart. “No… you were perfect. We loved you, we still love you, so much. We left to protect you. We escaped in Russia so that you could lead a life away from us, away from the CIA and the Alliance. We just wanted what was best for you,” her father said, looking into her eyes.
That was all it took. Desiree burst in to wracking sobs, flying into their arms. She knew they weren’t lying; they loved her.
And for the first time in fourteen years, Desiree Vaughn had a place in the world.
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