I wrapped my jacket as tight as I possibly could around me in an attempt to shield myself from the freezing New York air that whipped around me. I picked up my pace as I weaved through the crowded sidewalk, making my way to the subway. I despised this walk every morning but it was the quickest way and since I had a habit of sleeping until the last possible minute every morning I didn't have time to take the scenic route when I had to be at work by eight a.m. I shuddered as I caught a glimpse of my childhood home out of the corner of my eye. The home that gave me nightmares ever since I can remember. The home that makes my stomach turn at the simple thought of it. In actuality it was an orphanage, but much to my dismay its where i grew up. And of course it was right smack dab on the corner right before the subway station, so I got the pleasure of seeing it everyday. I still couldn't believe that place wasn't condemned yet. All the windows had a grey smoggy film and the sign looked like it was ready come crashing to the ground. Even when the sun was shinning at its brightest it was like a looming black cloud hung over that building.The fall leaves danced around on the front stairs. The very stairs where I was dumped as an infant by my parents on Christmas Day twenty eight years ago. So to say I wasn't a big fan of Christmas was a tad bit of an understatement. Other than going to work I pretty much stayed home and kept to myself. I like it better that way. I didn't have a ton of faith in humanity. Spending my whole childhood being bounced from foster home to foster home and not finding one single family that wanted me. So at the ripe age of eighteen I was no longer the states responsibility so they gave me a swift kick onto the cold streets of New York to find my own way. I've tried to find my real family but when you don't have a ton of money not a lot of people are willing to help. So in time Ive just come to terms with it and live my life, if that's what you want to call it. A couple of days ago I had a voicemail from a private investigator in California saying they believe I'm the child of a family there. I always thought I would jump at the chance of meeting my family, especially since I tried to find them myself. Sometimes i would ask myself why i would possibly want to find the people who just dumped me like a piece of trash on an orphanage door step. but i guess curiosity always got the better of me. As a kid I would day dream of having the picture perfect family and what it would feel like to be loved. But as I have gotten older I don't know what I want. I've picked up the phone many times since I've gotten that message wanting to call back but It always ends with me hanging up when I hear the first ring. But I think I might just finally bite the bullet and see where it takes me.