Chapter 3: News

38.5K 803 199
                                    

"As long as you're still alive, you always have the chance to start again." -Emily Acker

I'm sitting in my third class of the day which is English. Which also happens to be my second favorite subject. As soon as I'm about to pull my book out to read the intercom comes on. 

"Isabella Romano, you're needed in the front office immediately. I repeat Isabella Romano, you're needed in the front office immediately." Everyone in the class turns their heads my way as I slowly get up from my desk. As I walk out of the classroom people are whispering to each other.

As I slowly walk down the hallway to the front office, I contemplate in my head what I did wrong. I walk into the front office to be greeted by the sorrowful look of the secretary. 

"Go ahead sweetie, Mr. Carter is waiting for you." the secretary, Mrs. Morgan, says with a look of pity in her eyes. Now I'm really curious as to why I was called down here. I open the principal office door. I open the door only to see a nice-looking lady, with blond hair and brown eyes, standing in the corner with a smile plastered on her face. I look towards the principal.

"Y-you w-wanted to see m-m-me sir." I stutter nervously.

"Yes, Isabella I have some bad news for you, please sit down." Mr. Carter says with a look of pity and worry very evident in his eyes. He pauses a second before continuing. "I'm so very sorry to have to tell you this but." He makes a quick glance towards the woman in the room before continuing. "Unfortunately, your foster parent's car was found in a wreck in a ditch. In the car was your foster mother's body. There is evidence that your foster father was also in the car."

I felt my breath hitch as well as my eyes widen. Tears threatened to fall. I didn't know how to feel. Happy? Sad? Angry? Sure, I wanted them to disappear, but I didn't want them to die. They were awful people, but they didn't deserve death. I honestly don't know how to feel a part of me is upset that they died. 

But the other half is jumping for joy. For that I won't have to smell their awful breath. I won't have to stay in the cold basement of their home anymore. I won't have to step foot inside the punishment room. I don't have to hear their awful words. Or their disgusting hands on my body anymore. I don't know how I feel. I was lost in thought when all of a sudden, the woman spoke.

"Hi, Isabella, I know this must be hard for you. But my name is Kacy, I will be your new social worker." She gave me a kind smile and I tried my best to return it. She looked at me for permission to continue speaking. I simply nodded my head at her, and she took that as her sign to continue. 

"We have gone through your records, and we have tracked down your birth parent. We gave them a call and they seemed overjoyed to be able to have you back. From what they told me you were kidnapped when you were only 15 months old (a year and three months)." As the words left her mouth, I willed myself not to cry. Why are they just discovering this now, after 12 years! I could have had a happy childhood instead of the crappy one I have.

I was still trying to keep my composure when Kacy continued. "Your family lives in New York and has arranged for you to fly home. They will have a driver pick you up in the airport to take you home." Woah. We live in California, that would be at least a five-hour flight.

Kacy decided that she would drive me to the house so that I could get my things. I went inside the house that I have lived in for nearly 2 years now. The stench of alcohol still lingers in the house. I look at the kitchen to see that the breakfast I made this morning still sat there. I walked down to the basement where all my things are laid out in the corner. I don't have much, so this won't take long.

 I decided to change into more comfortable clothes. I put on a black leggings and an old worn-out gray hoodie that I have had for a while. After I change, I put my 2 pairs of jeans, my other pair of leggings, and my sweatpants that I sleep in into my duffel bag. Along with my 3 t-shirts, 2 long sleeve shirts, and my 2 other pairs of hoodies. Also, some concealer so I can cover my bruises. I come across my locket and decide to put it on. I walk over to my old worn-out mattress and grab what sits on it.

SavedWhere stories live. Discover now