Finding Home || bxb

1

"Are you ready?"

"Not particularly no," I responded.

"I know it's scary. Especially as you haven't met them before, but they're good people. They've been vetted and they do this often. They specifically only take in teenagers and their last foster just grew out of the system and moved out. This is a great opportunity for you Alden. I won't let you throw it away," Allison said.

I sighed. "I'm not throwing it away. I just need a moment."

"Okay."

"Do they know about..."

She nodded almost pityingly. "They have to be aware of your history. You know that."

I looked out the window toward the house we were parked outside. It looked ordinary, more affluent than anywhere I'd been in the past in terms of foster care. It seemed like it was two storeys but with a loft extension judging by the slant of one of the windows I could see at the very top. The front garden was kept neatly mowed and a fairly new looking Ford Fiesta sat in the driveway next to the house. They managed to get an end terrace. I had a house like this when I was really little, if I remember correctly.

"They have a couple kids of their own too," Allison said. "One's around your age. Maybe you two could be friends."

"Were they told about my past too?" I asked. I could see my reflection in the mirror. My skin was pale, lips a little chapped, unruly red hair sat atop my head in the form of messy ringlets that needed a wash.

"No. Cassandra and Michael may have told them though, I can't be sure. Anyhow, once they see you, you know they'll have questions even if they don't out right ask you to your face right away."

I looked at my neck through the glass where my reflection still shone. Half of it covered in a long nasty scar cutting across horizontally. It still stung sometimes when I looked at it too hard. The knife would slice my memories now. My hands would tremble. I'd close my eyes and think of those moments where I was bleeding out, sure that my short life was over, only to open my eyes again and be shocked that I was still here five years later. Too bad the same couldn't be said for my parents.

"That doesn't mean you have to tell them everything Alden," Allison continued. "Just as a reminder. The curiosity of others doesn't entitle them to know everything about you if you don't want to share."

I nodded. I was used to this anyway. People always stared and some were brave enough to ask. Sometimes I'd tell them the truth. Other times I liked to make up stories and see how much of it they'd believe. Sometimes I'd straight up tell them it was none of their business because it wasn't. And sometimes they'd act like I was rude for not telling them.

"Yeah, I know."

"Ready to go in now?"

"I suppose."

We left my things in the car for now and Allison kept reassuring me that if anything went wrong then I could always contact her. That was actually quite reassuring even though I'd probably never admit it. I hadn't been in a foster home for at least seven months now and all my previous homes had been pretty awful. Most of them only fostered to get more money and soon grew tired of me causing them too much trouble and would send me back. I shuddered at the memory of one particular home in which the foster dad's older sister had come to visit over Christmas and tried to touch me up. I was out of there the next day and left them with a lamp they'd have to replace after I smashed it into the woman's head.

Allison rang the doorbell and we waited patiently for someone to come open the door. I felt a little hesitant and nervous for some reason. No matter how much they'd been vetted, a nasty truth about them could surface at any time. What if they were pure evil hiding behind a fake smile? When they opened the door, I was greeted with smiles that maybe didn't look quite as fake as I was expecting though.