The Bench

Escape

"You're up early Cecilia." Said Mrs. Woodfield as she passed by her bedroom door carrying a basket of clothes on her hip.

"Yeah, I figured I'd get all my graduation paperwork out of the way." She replied, closing her laptop and sliding it into her backpack. "I actually need your signature for a couple of things."

Cecilia grabbed and handful of papers off of her desk, and slung the backpack over her shoulder.

"Graduation?" Her foster mom stopped. "Already?"

"Yeah, it's on May 15th." Cecilia reminded her.

"Oh." Mrs. Woodfield placed her basket on the couch and smoothed back her hair. "I guess I just lost track of the time." She looked at the teen.

"How old are you again?"

Cecilia slightly raised on eye brow as she followed her mom to the living room. "I turn 18 on July 20th." She responded, trying not to sound patronized. She handed her foster mother the papers to sign.

"Wow, time really has flown by." Mrs. Woodfield tried to joke. She took the papers and put them on the kitchen counter. "I promise I'll have them all finished by the time you get home from school."

"Thanks Mrs. Woodfield." Cecilia smiled. One thing was for certain, her foster mother was a people pleaser.

"How did you like the new club?" She asked while rummaging through the refrigerator.

"Oh," Cecilia grimaced. "I, uh, didn't go."

Mrs. Woodfield stood up and frowned. "How are you supposed to find your niche in life if you don't expand your horizons?" She scolded.

The teen swallowed. "Well I'm kind of hoping the Holy Spirit guides me there."

"No religion Cecilia." Mrs. Woodfield made eye contact with her as she set the milk on the counter. "Remember what I said.."

"Right..." Choking on the thick atmosphere, Cecilia strained to find something else to talk about. Anything else.

"I... um... was thinking of ways I can get my community service hours in." Cecilia started. She perched on the edge of the couch with her backpack at her feet. "You know, with all the graduation paperwork..." She trailed off, eyes tracing the patterned carpet.

"Oh good! That's a great way to expand your horizons!" Her foster mother said approvingly, and immediately set off on a lecture about the future of a high school student and its grave importance on your life. (gag) At least she was blessed with an easily distracted foster parent.

"You know, I have some contacts with planned parenthood. I betcha I can get you a great volunteer opportunity!" Mrs. Woodfield exclaimed excitedly.

A nauseousness came over Cecilia. She shook her head and crossed her arms. "No.." she said indifferently, "Um, How about the women's resource center? They're pretty good too. And besides, I was thinking of a homeless shelter in particular."

"Oh, yeah." Mrs. Woodfield didn't seem to notice, (or care about) the redirection of the conversation as she glanced at the oven clock. "Hey, have you had breakfast yet? It's almost time for you to go to school."

Cecilia nodded. "Yeah, I was actually just about to take off." she said, scooping her bag up and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'll see you tonight."

As soon as the door shut, she leaned against it, closed her eyes and let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.

Only two more months till she could escape.