Burrying the Past

Prologue

The social worker knocks on the door. I tightly grip my suitcase and press my lips closed, feeling as nervous as ever. And other things too, like angry, sad, depressed, confused, and somehow, a little hopefull. Not sure for what am I feeling hopefull, though.
I momentarely close my eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing headache I feel, caused by that concussion that doesn't seem to heal.
I hear the sound of someone's heavy steps getting closer to the door, followed by the sound of the doorknob cracking. I look up from my feet to see a beared middle-aged man struggling to stay on his feet. Anyone can see he is drunk, very drunk.
"May I help?" He slurs. The strong smell of alchool brings tears to my eyes.
Before even someone can respond his question he speaks up again "Ahh. You're that boy who is staying here, right?"
Obviously the question is directed to me, there's nobody else here besides the social worker, whose name is Portia, I believe.
"Yes, Peeta, this is Haymitch Abernathy. He is your new foster father, you'll be living with him until your legally an adult." she says.
I don't have the energy or mood for actually speaking so I just nod.
"Come in." Haymitch says, going inside, me and Portia follow.
The house is a complete mess, and stinks like hell. How am I supposed to live here for the next two years of my life? Well, I guess it's still better than before, I think.
Haymitch leads us to the living room, pointing towards a dusty sofa in the middle of the room. "Sit" he says, plopping down an armchair. I do as he says. Portia stands by the door frame, holding her clipboard close to her chest.
"Well, I guess that's it. Peeta, don't forget to take your medications. If something is wrong don't hesitate in calling me. Here in two weeks I'll come by to check on everything." she says. I nod again in response. "Oh, and Haymitch, cut on the drinks." she adds, turning around and walking away.
"Yes, ma'am!" Haymitch says, with a salute.
"Have a nice day." Portia says, disappering to the street.
When I listen to the door colarinho I go back to staring at my feet, a thick silence installed in the room.
"You want to see your bedroom?" Haymitch says, sounding a little more sober.
I shrugg.
We both stand up and he leads me upstairs. I have to say this house is kind of big, only for one person, well two, now that I live here.
He opens a door and gesture me to come in.
"Your bedroom." he slurs, then he mumbles something like 'I'll give you some time and stomps away, closing the door behind him.
I look around, a simple bedroom, blue walls, a bed on the corner, a desk, a wardrobe with a mirror beside. A dark blue and white stripped rug covers the wooden floor. I set the suitcase on the ground and go look through the window. I can see the next house's window, which belongs to a bedroom. It's actually weird how the two house's are so close to each other, I could easily reach the other window.
I stay there staring when I see the most beautiful girl ever coming in the bedroom across from mine. She has dark coal colored hair, huge shining silver eyes and pale olive skin. Her hair is tied in a braid that falls down her back flawlessly.
She looks at the window smiles and waves at me. I wave back. She gives me what seems to be the most beautiful, perfect smile I've ever seen. I can feel myself blush, for no reason. Before I do anything stupid I turn around, take my shoes off, go to bed and pull the covers up to my head, eventhough it's just 5 in the afternoon.
I truthfully just want to sleep and nothing more.
I allow myself drift off, with this last thought on my mind: This is it, it's time to burry the past and start fresh, or try.