That night it was hard to sleep.
Millions of thoughts were rushing through my head constantly but they all had the one same thing in common.
Amber.
How could she do this to me? What kind of sister is she? Leaving me all alone... She knew I hated the foster carers! She knew I would've said yes to running away from there. I turn over to face the window. There is one good thing about my (so called..) room, I have a window. I have a window which I can look out of whenever I feel down. It may not be very big but it's all I need. I just need a glimpse of the moon before I fall asleep, the stars if I wake up during the night and the sun shining bright on an early morning. Nothing makes me feel more warm and secure than the creations of the heavens above. God, now I sound like the Bible.
I look out through my window. The moon is in the middle of millions of beautiful stars. The big bright moon is shining as bright as ever and the stars are doing just as well. It's my only friend. The moon. Well, and the stars and the sun. But apart from that it's my only friend. The moon just gives me this sense of happiness. I feel secure and safe. Every night I watch the moon. Watch it glisten across the dark sky, brightening the stars. It's so beautiful. The way it sparkles and gleams. It watches over me, through all the rough times. Whenever I have a tough day the moon is always there to support me. It listens. I tell it everything. From moving to another foster carer to getting the whip from Mr Tripper. It listens so deeply. I stay like that for a while, resting my head on my pillow and gazing up at the moon. Then suddenly my eye lids start to droop and droop and droop, until all is black.
When I wake the next morning I can hear the loud honks of the trucks outside and the toots in response from the cars. I check the time. 6:36. Oh god. Mr Tripper will be up soon and I still haven't made him breakfast. Crap!
I race around my room getting changed and in the process trying not to wake Mr Tripper.
Once I finished getting changed I charged downstairs and started making a bowl of oatmeal for the old hag.
It took me 10 minutes but I got it. I had finally mastered the art of making oatmeal. If Mr Tripper doesn't like it, God...I'm gonna... URGH! Speaking of Mr Tripper...
"OAKWOOD! IS MY BREAKFAST READY YET?!" He yelled.
"Almost Sir!" I called in response.
I put the final touches on my new creation as I heard big loud footsteps coming down the stairs. I quickly raced around the kitchen crashing into pots and pans.
BANG! CRASH! BANG!
"WHATS GOING ON DOWN THERE?!" Mr Tripper screamed.
"Nothing Sir!" I called yet again.
The footsteps were growing louder until Mr Tripper was standing in the middle of the door frame. He came and sat himself down to eat the oatmeal I had served. I stood like a soldier ready to salute my captain as I waited for his response. He slowly reached for the spoon and took a large mouthful.
Chew, chew, chew.
He cautiously swallowed the mouthful with a look of disgust. I was starting to breath very heavily. This didn't look good.
"WHAT IS THIS?!" He shouted.
"O..Oat..Oatmeal..." I spluttered.
"THIS IS DISGRACEFUL!" He shouted once again.
He came and stood right in front of my face so I could see the bulging veins in his neck and the crinkles around his forehead. God, he did not look like a friendly old man.
"Your getting the whip, Missy." He spat.
I gulped as he lead me into his room. He walked over to his special draw and excitedly pulled out the whip. I stood as still as a tree trying not to look like I was on the verge of tears.
"Turn around." He growled.
I reluctantly turned around and bent over.
WHOOSH, SMACK!
I whimpered as I felt the pain sprint up my back side. It was excruciating pain. Nothing compares. I listened as he pulled back the whip to go again.
WHOOSH, SMACK!
I cried out as I felt the pain sprint up my back side yet again.
"Your done. Get out." He grumbled.
I limped out of his room straight up into mine. I cried and cried and cried. I may be 19 but no age will make a difference to the pain I just felt. I cried for what seemed like forever until I had a thought.
That was the last straw. I couldn't take it anymore. He treated me awful and I know I didn't deserve it. I had been given a chance to leave so I am going to take it. I am going to find Amber.
Hope u guys liked part 3!
It was really fun to write!
Bellz xoxo
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Search For Paradise
ChickLitEver had that moment when you know exactly what to do? Well, that's what happened to Foster Child Brooklyn. Brooklyn has never known her sister Amber because she ran away when Brooklyn was 6 and Brooklyn has always assumed Amber was dead. But on Bro...
