Everyone calls her mother. She isn't really their mother. None of them have the same blood running through their veins. None of them share the same DNA. I on the other hand do. I am treated no different than any of them. She treats me like just another number. It is not as though I mind. Sometimes I even prefer not to be treated special or different from the rest. As it is, I have a hard enough time fitting in with everyone.
She is beautiful and commanding. When she enters the room everyone stops and waits to see what she'll say or do. They all aim to please, which is probably why I don't quite fit in. I am not entranced by her; I'm not in awe; my world does not revolve around making sure that she notices me or is greatful for my existance. I learned long ago it was fuitile. Eventually I am sure they will learn too.