A mother's love should be unconditional. A father should be there to protect you, never hit you. We all can't get what we want, though. My mother didn't want me, so she left me with my father and his wife. Neither of them wanted me, but they took me in anyway. They made sure that I knew that though others called me an Overland, I would never be part of the family; I'm a Frost and I was not welcome.

They died my hair because it was unnatural. They gave me contacts because no one in the family had blue eyes. I soon looked just like them.

I was to call Father's wife Mrs. Overland when we were at home and Mother in front of company. It was the same with Father. I am not their family.

As the years passed, I excelled in all my school subjects and I was also the captain of our hockey team. They still weren't proud of me. Be faster Jack. You hit like a girl, Jack. You call that a good grade? You're losing your touch, Jack. There was always something to fix.

When my sister was born, I had just turned thirteen. She was perfect. She had the natural brown hair and the family's brown eyes. I was determined to make sure she was loved, and she was. She walked and talked sooner than I had and built her vocabulary fast for a toddler.

She was five and I was eighteen when I woke up on the iced-over lake behind our house. I was of age and I should be able to take care of myself. For the rest of the year, I walked to school and pretended that nothing was wrong. I graduated in the top five; my sister and the Overlands weren't there. I walked back to the lake that was no longer frozen and found a note. They told me to leave town and never come back. They said that I should have known I was not welcome.

I left the lake with only the clothes on my back and the walking stick I stole from Father.