Temporary Home

Chapter Six

I walked out of school after I grabbed my book bag from my locker. I did not want to deal with anyone else, I was so frustrated. Why would someone find the need to look in my folder?

It was none of their business.

Walking to my aunt's house, I made it there in about twenty minutes. Her car was not there, thankfully, so I just walked in and went to my room.

I sat on my mattress on the floor and just looked around, deciding on just getting some rest I laid on my mattress and closed my eyes.

Falling asleep within minutes of me closing my eyes.

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"DILLON!" I woke up to my aunt screaming and her barging into my room.

Startled, I sat up and looked over at her. She looked extremely angry.

"Why the fuck did I get a call from your school?" She asked crossing her arms as she stood in the middle of my room.

"I couldn't take it anymore." I answered to which she laughed.

"Couldn't take what child?" She asked, "oh the fact someone snuck into the principal's office? Stole your folder? Told everyone in the school?" She laughed harder. "You're so childish, it was five years ago. You are still going on about that?" She asked rolling her eyes.

I looked down.

"Because of you, CPS got called again and they're coming to do a check-in. So, get up and do something with your face. They will be here in a few. Do not fuck shit up." She said, angrily and left.

Check ins. I had a love/hate relationship with the check ins. I loved them because the people who came through seemed like they cared for me, they always asked me questions that nobody has asked before. They seem like they really care about my wellbeing, but I know that it is just because it is their jobs. But I enjoy the hour every month that we have a check in. It is my favorite time. The part I am not too particular about liking is that Aunt Rita is there for the whole hour. So, I cannot answer any of the questions the people ask honestly without having some type of look thrown at me and a punishment after they leave.

Maybe today will be different? Probably not, that's just wishful thinking.

Getting off my mattress, I went over to my dresser and grabbed a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, I walked into the bathroom and changed clothes after putting more antibiotic ointment and burn cream on my injuries. Discarding my old clothes in the basket, I walked back into my room.

"Dillon!" I heard my aunt yell, "they're here."

Putting on a pair of socks and some tennis shoes, I walked out of my room and through the garage to meet them in the kitchen.

Walking into the room, I noticed two new people who I have not met before with clipboards in their hands and Aunt Rita who looked insanely nervous.

"You must be Dillon." The guy said, holding out his hand to shake. "I am Dr. Jordan." I shook his hand.

"And I am Dr. Riley." The lady said, also shaking my hand. "Your case workers couldn't make it out today with us, but we are a part of the doctor's program at the adoption center. We have had a few calls that we were very concerned over, so we as a part of our job, we have to do a house and person check in." I nodded, still confused.

"So, what exactly does that mean?" Aunt Rita asked, hands trembling just a little bit.

"We do an inspection of the house, more so your living area, to make sure the client is being treated correctly. Such as, has a bed to sleep on, a bathroom, clothes, personal necessities, food to eat, stuff like that." Dr. Jordan said.