the tragic tale of Dekota McGarthy

part 2

At the bottom of the close there was a black taxi waiting for us, the helpful driver jumped out and lifted my one small bag into the car of me, we all clambered into the car

"can you tell me where were going now?" i asked staring dejectedly into the usual rain

"not far" was my only reply, My mind wondered...

Where was i going i asked myself, i began to imagine... A foster home somewhere in London maybe... i imagined myself in a large 4 bedroom house, with a garden, i had parents, good ones who loved me, a brother and a sister, and an old grandpa who like to amaze the kids with magic tricks i'd figured out the day he showed me, there was a dog, a golden Labrador that jumped all over you when you walked in the door, then i imagined my room, turquoise and white, with a king sized bed and twinkly chandelier with a big wardrobe filled with Paul's boutique jumpers and expensive clothes with converse, lacoste trainers and a truck load of beautiful classy heels...I knew my life would never be that amazing, but a girl can dream... eventually we pulled up at a giant school type building, with red bricks and a great big memorial painted across one wall, a large sign read, "McKenzie Board school and children's home"

A shrill bell rang loud and piercing, a mass of Boys and girls of all ages came pouring through the school doors...

"this is drum chapel." the woman announced "you'll be living here, until we find you suitable foster parents, but first you must meet the head, she'll ask you some questions and, well, get to know you better. will you like that?" i shot her a dirty look

"yeah i'd really like that" i said in a poor imitation of her voice, she looked at me sternly

"i caution you Dekota...things like that wont be taken lightly.." the said. i waited until she'd turned around before pulling a face at her and before sneakily exposing my middle finger.

Minutes later we were in the waiting room to the head's office, we were standing outside the door. my bag slung over my shoulder along with my thin leather jacket, i stuck a strip of bubblegum in my mouth as the Secretary beconed for us to go in.

"em, excuse me ma'am. the head doent like people chewing..." she said in a nervous disposition, i looked at her demeaningly and growled

"so. what." the poor woman twitched nervously and twirled her hair, i grunted at her, while feeling slight guilt for taking advantage of her wimpy-ness.

unwillingly, i dragged my feet across the floor and groaned as i was forced through the big oak doors of hells very own office...