The doctor told my mother then that I was a miracle child. I, myself, have no belief in miracles; no belief in a God; no belief in anything other than life is what you make of it.

After my family passed away, my eldest brothers wife being the last, my secret began. No one but my family and some town folk knew of me. Those who spoke of me were said to be “not right” and put away in homes for the elderly, or for the mentally insane. I inherited my fathers estate, claiming to be the offspring of my younger sister. Her picture still hangs on the wall of the furriery. Along with the house, I gained both my brothers wealth, my sisters’ husbands wealth, and my fathers wealth. All together, I had enough money to live one hundred lifetimes, without working a day.

I have, now, acquired seven houses along the east coast; nine in the mid-west; two in Alaska and Hawaii; and six on the west coast. I change my name every time I move to a new town, living like a nomad so no one figures out my secret. I change homes every five years, so by the time I make it back to the same house, all the neighbors have either left or died. My face is never remembered.

For now, I am living in Redmond, Washington- my little house in the woods. Its quiet, and the closest neighbors live two miles away in every direction. I have few friends who know me by Emilee Baxton; and due to circumstances, even fewer suitors. To say I am content would be a lie; but to say I’d rather be lonely and unhappy, than locked up in a medical lab, would also be a lie.

My life is simple. Living it is simple. Ending it is a whole other story. But what if there were someone like me out there? Wouldn’t that be a hoot?