I woke up again, at 3am. I just couldn't seem to go back to sleep.
Thoughts, worries, fears, where all turning in my head. Over and over again. Making my mind feel like a hurricane.
That's when I decided to take out my book. It's not just any book.
It's a book filled with my poems, stories, my songs. It's a diary, where I write everything in. I already have 10 of them, filled with my thoughts and imagination.
Early mornings when I write best.
So I took it out, trying to find a clean sheet. I put my pen down on the paper, and ink started filling the page. Full of song lyrics influenced by my thoughts. I kept writing until I had finished the song.
I read through it a few times. Trying to come up with a melody for it. I grabbed my guitar and stripped it out of its cover which I had put it in to take with me tomorrow, and started playing.
I didn't care if my foster parents woke up, I didn't care if it was too loud or to early , they were giving me up anyway.
I tried out a few chords to see what worked best, and I played around with the song.
Happy with what I accomplished that night, I thought I would put my guitar back and maybe sleep a little longer, I can finish the song another time.
"Isabelle,"
"Isabelle, time to wake up sweetie," I heard my foster mother say.
I got up and asked her to leave the room so I could change.
I took a quick shower and put on a gray fluffy sweater, with black tights and my boots and went downstairs with all my stuff.
My foster dad tried to talk to me a few times, but I completely just blocked him out like he wasn't even standing there.
Why should I talk to him hm? He promised he would keep me.
And he broke his promise.
If you can't keep a promise never make it, for you will brake someone down.
He broke me.
I made myself a strong cup of coffee to last me the ride, and slowly grabbed my things one by one and put them in the car.
When I was done putting all my things in I sat down in the back seat waiting for them to aboard themselves.
The whole ride I had my earphones in.
I didn't want to hear what they had to say.
I didn't care what they had to say.
They didn't want me. they don't care about me.
So why should I care?
The ride felt like forever.
Following the same old familiar loads.
Except this time it felt different,
Different in a good way or bad way? I really don't know.
But it felt different.
