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They tell me I'm the result of a botched abortion. "That's why you're not quite right, honey," they say as wrinkles emerge between their eyebrows and chin.

I'm not sure I buy the 'botched' part. I've been told lots of colorful things in my seventeen years and most of it simply gets filed in a general holding area. But retrieving information from that place is a bit like removing the lid from a blender. Would be nice if someone really knew, I think to myself. But there's no finding most of it. Lost n found is for lone mittens, worn out shoes and helicopter moms. As for my past, a great number of trees have been killed simply trying to capture "Jane" on paper for the next caseworker or foster family.

This book has not yet been reviewed.