"No, please! It's me, really!" I cried at the departing family. My family. My mom and siblings hopped into our minivan, which was waiting at the curb of the mall. My father stopped and turned around.

"No, you are not my daughter. My daughters are right there in the van, and you are nothing like us. You don't look like us, and Emily Cooper, who you are claiming to be, is in my car, waiting to go home. You are not my Emily Cooper. You are not my daughter." He spoke those dreadful words with finality and walked to the car, shutting the driver's side door. The fake Emily Cooper, who was taking my place--and looked exactly like I had months ago--sneered at me, with a delighted, evil smile.

The van drove away. I was alone.

But how can this be? My family! Why won't they believe me?  I sat down with my arms curled around my legs and my head down, and nearly cried. I tried, I tried! I worked as hard as I could, but it wasn't hard enough! Why, oh why, on earth did this have to happen? I thought despairingly in my head, tears streaming silently down my cheeks. But suddenly they stopped. I looked up. No. This is not my fault. I will not stop trying. I will get my family back, no matter what happens. I will go after her. Snarling at the mention of the fake me, I stood up, determined. I will do more than anyone has ever done before. I will finish this. And so my journey began.