I open my window to allow the night's cool air to enter my room. It's a beautiful October night and the moon is just out of my line of sight as always. I stick my right leg out of my window and place it firmly on the roof, then follow with my left. The fresh breeze brushes my cheeks as I slowly step to the edge of the roof.

I always tell myself not to look down, but every night, I go against my own word. The fall from the second story of my house wouldn't kill me, but it's high enough to cause some serious damage. I look across to the neighboring house's roof. It's no more than four feet away. You would think that when this neighborhood was first built, the contractors wanted to see how many houses they could fit in a limited amount of space.

I take a step back and then jump forward onto the next roof. The jump used to scare me when I was younger, but now it's just so natural. I walk to the bedroom window which is directly across from mine and open it. It's actually quite scary how clearly you can see into this house's room from my own and vice versa. But since this house has been for sale for a while, I've been able to enjoy the night's sky without a damn curtain hovering over the window.

Without looking, I stick my hand into the house and pull out a blanket. I keep it here for this purpose: to lay out on the roof. I set the blanket flat on the roof and lay down facing the sky. The view of the moon more perfect than anywhere else I've ever been.

I would lay on my own roof if it wasn't for the ginormous tree in my backyard blocking my view. I stare up at the moon and soak in every minute I have. I never take my time up here for granted because once a new family moves into this house, I'm S.O.L of a good view. The average family never stays in this house for more than a year. I think it's a curse, and I'm grateful for it.

Ever since the big sign appeared on the sign in this front yard, I've spent at least an hour on this roof every night. It's my getaway, my place I come to when I'm upset or have a lot to think about. I can feel my eyes getting heavy when I hear my mom calling my name, "Camryn!"

"Shit," I say to myself, standing up. I grab my blanket since this is my last night being able to lay here and jump back onto my roof. I climb through my window and land on my bed which is right in front of it. I made it just in time as my mom opens my door.

"Cam, I've been calling you, I washed and folded your clothes for you" she says, placing a basket full of my clothes next to me. Right on top I see my bra and my underwear folded neatly.

"Mom, I told you, I can do it myself," I say and she frowns. "What I meant was, I'm sixteen and I'm capable of doing my own laundry."

"I know, I just like doing things for you sweetie, now get to bed, it's late," she says, placing a kiss on my forehead. Once she leaves my room I start putting my clothes away. I really need her to stop handling my underwear, it's kind of weird now. But I can't help the fact that she wants to baby me, I'm an only child.

My parents always call me their little blessing, their perfect gift from an angel above. I was adopted by them a few days after I was born, and even though I'm completely, one hundred percent theirs, they still tell me their fear of losing me.

When I was about six they explained everything to me because that's when the tormenting started. According to first graders, there's something wrong with you if you're adopted, you're some type of freak. Kids in my class started calling me names and throwing their juice boxes at me. I went home crying and my mom and dad both sat me down and started talking.

They told me how mommy wasn't able to have her own children and how badly they wanted some. Apparently the adoption process isn't as easy as it may seem. My parents were on a waiting list for a year before they finally got a call that there was a baby on the way for them, but at the very last moment, that mommy changed her mind and kept her child.

It broke my parents' hearts and that's why when they were finally able to adopt me, another year later, they never let me leave their sight. I was their pride and joy, their everything. When they told me this, I asked about my real parents, but they just sort of shook off my question with a little story about them. I was young enough to be content with their story.

As for the kids at school, they made sure I never had one good day. But my parents always made up for it when I got home by taking me out or letting me watch my favorite shows on tv. They're my best friends since no one at school would talk to me. They told me elementary school and middle school would be hard since everyone is still immature. They were right, but they didn't know it would follow me to high school.

Here I am, three months into my junior year and I only have one friend. But I'm not complaining, I'm not to fond of anyone at my school really. I always thought I wanted to fit in with everyone, so I even started wearing clothes from Forever 21 and Pacsun, and did my makeup everyday but that didn't help. I was still the adopted freak.

I've never even had a boyfriend, except for one that was a joke in the third grade, how sad is that. I actually find myself quite attractive too. I'm about 5'7, slim build, long black hair and pale skin. But apparently my background overrides my looks when it comes to dating.

There's one thing I'm sure of though: college will be different. I'd be going to college long ways from California, but the problem with that is money. I've been working at the same diner for almost two years now, trying to save up. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get out of this small town who's houses are too damn close to each other.

Two years.

Two years is all I have to get through to get out of here.