Fates Entwined

The Weight of New Beginnings

The sky outside my window had started to dim by the time there was a soft knock on the door.

"Charlie?" Rachel's voice came through, light and hesitant. "Dinner's ready. You can come down when you're ready."

I didn't move right away, waiting until I heard her footsteps retreat before sitting up. My stomach twisted, not from hunger, but from the thought of sitting at a table with strangers, making conversation I didn't want to have.

Still, skipping dinner wasn't an option. Foster parents always took that as a sign of something deeper, some problem they felt the need to solve. It was easier to show up, eat quietly, and go back to the room.

I trudged downstairs, the smell of spaghetti growing stronger with each step. When I entered the dining room, Rachel and Derek were already seated, bowls of steaming pasta in front of them.

"There you are!" Rachel beamed, gesturing to an empty chair. "Come, sit! Aaron should be down in a minute."

I slid into the seat without a word, keeping my eyes on the plate Rachel set in front of me. The food looked good—better than most of the meals I'd had in the past—but I barely tasted it as I ate.

"So, how was your room?" Rachel asked after a moment, her voice gentle but probing.

"It's fine," I replied, keeping my answers short.

"And school? You'll be starting tomorrow. Do you know your schedule yet?"

I nodded, glancing up briefly. "Biology first. Then math, I think."

Rachel smiled, clearly pleased that I'd answered at all. Derek, sitting beside her, had yet to say a word, his focus fixed on his plate.

Before Rachel could ask another question, the sound of footsteps thundered down the stairs, and a boy with messy brown hair and a hoodie rounded the corner.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. His eyes flicked to me briefly before he turned to Rachel. "Hi. I'm Aaron."

I nodded slightly, mumbling a quiet, "Charlie."

"Welcome," Aaron said simply before digging into his food. He didn't seem overly interested in me, which was a relief.

The rest of the meal passed in relative quiet, save for Rachel's occasional attempts at conversation. When it was over, I excused myself quickly, retreating to the safety of the upstairs room.

I closed the door behind me, the quiet pressing in again as I sank onto the bed. Tomorrow loomed ahead like a storm cloud, and I wasn't sure if I had the energy to face it.

Still, I'd survived worse. One day at a time—that was all I could do.

The night stretched on in a thick, uncomfortable silence. After the awkward dinner, I tried to settle back into the bed, hoping sleep would come easily. But the ceiling above felt too bare, the walls too empty, and the unfamiliar creaks of the house grated on my nerves.

I scrolled through my phone aimlessly, flipping between apps, not really engaging with anything. A notification popped up—something about a group chat from the group home I'd left. The name lit up on the screen like a taunt. I swiped it away without opening it. No point. Those connections always disappeared after the next move.

Somewhere in the house, I heard faint laughter. Rachel and Derek, maybe. The sound should've been comforting, but it only made the space around me feel colder.

Eventually, I turned off the light and buried myself under the blankets. Sleep came in fits and starts, shallow and restless.

The alarm I'd set for the next morning jolted me awake at six. For a moment, I forgot where I was, the unfamiliar room throwing me off. Then it hit me, and the knot in my stomach tightened.

First days were always the worst.

I dragged myself out of bed and into the tiny bathroom attached to the room. The cold water on my face helped a little, though the mirror wasn't as kind. Dark circles framed my eyes, and my hair stuck up in wild angles from a night of tossing and turning.

By the time I'd forced myself into jeans and a hoodie, the smell of breakfast wafted up from downstairs. Pancakes this time, though I couldn't imagine eating.

When I came downstairs, Rachel was already bustling around the kitchen, humming softly as she flipped a pancake. Aaron sat at the table, his head down over his phone.

"Good morning!" Rachel greeted me with her ever-present smile.

"Morning," I muttered, sliding into a chair across from Aaron.

"Pancakes?" she offered, placing a plate in front of me without waiting for an answer.

I nodded faintly, picking up my fork and stabbing at the stack.

Aaron glanced up from his phone. "You're starting at my school, right?"

"Yeah," I replied, not looking up.

He nodded once and went back to his phone.

"Do you need a ride?" Rachel asked, her tone still overly cheerful.

"No, I can walk," I said quickly.

"It's not far," Aaron chimed in. "But I can show you the way if you want."

I hesitated, not sure if I wanted company or just wanted to get through the day unnoticed. "I'll be fine," I said finally, forcing a small, polite smile.

"Alright," Rachel said, though I could see a flicker of concern cross her face.

After breakfast, I grabbed my bag and slipped out the door before anyone could stop me. The morning air was crisp, the sun just starting to rise over the rooftops.

Phoenix Drop was quieter than I'd expected. A few cars passed as I walked down the street, and the occasional neighbor waved as they stepped out to grab a newspaper or water their lawns.

The school loomed ahead, its brick exterior imposing against the pale morning sky. A steady stream of students filed through the front doors, their voices blending into a low hum of chatter and laughter.