Ripped From My Gene Pool Forced To Live In Another Dimension

I'm the maid's daughter. Raised in a house, with four other children, went to school with them, college afterwards. Other that the tincture of my skin and my appearance, I'm in every other way like them. When speaking of the home I grew up in, we were five brothers and sisters. My mother and my stepmother. And my 'father'.

My birth father was some policeman in Mexico who shared my mother with other policemen. No names, my mother and her friend were left naked in a field miles from where they were taken. Only as an 'adult' did I learn where I came from.

Now, to my feelings. My mother is the maid. My mother and father are my home parents, as my brothers and sisters. I look in the mirror, cursed by an accident of birth. I'm from a gene pool of 'indigenous' Indians. Ugly is another word. My appearance in the mirror does not fit my internal image.

There is no medical procedure to hide my Indian appearance.

I was told by a religious person, God punished me. Another well meaning idiot professor told me I wasn't different. I am a victim of well meaning home parents, I would be better off if the maid stayed where she belonged, the woman of a policeman.