Foster

Chapter Two

Hello people who may or may not be enjoying this story. Let's play a game called Spot The Word. So everytime I write a new chapter, I'm building my vocabulary by learning a new word. First person to guess correctly what that is will get a fan! May the odds be ever in your favor!

"I need you to have an open mind."

Reese and Dr. Sutton were sitting across from eachother outside on the patio. It's been almost a week since their last discussion. Reese had refused to go to a "stupid session where no one will believe" her. But she was convinced.  

Reese's hair was wild and you could tell from the dark circles under her eyes she hadn't slept or showered since she began to tell her story. It's been hard for her, being accused of murder. It's a good thing it's winter break, because she wouldn't be able to handle school - it'd be too much for her.

"My mind is open," Emily said. She smiled, to put Reese at ease. It didn't work.

"Mrs. Sutton, what I'm asking you, is to brush aside everything you have ever believed in. To throw away what you thought was true. Because it's not. None of it is."

Emily nodded. "I can do that."

Reese was skeptical but there wasn't more she could do besides begin her story, but first there was another story to tell. "Last week, I told you about Foster. And I know you only got a name. I'll tell you his story in a bit, but there's something I want you to acknowledge first.

This all started before I was born. No, no interruptions. I'll tell you what you need to know. This all started before I was born. Over the past thousand years, there have been stories of a young man. A young man who will appear at your door step - bloody, muddy, and no idea who he is. He's called a Signum. It's latin for a sign."

"Kind of like an omen." Dr. Sutton said, chewing at the ends of her pen in thought.

"Not kind of - is." Reese reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. She opened it and pulled out a ton of horrifying pictures and articles. "I've been doing a lot of research. Did you know the star of Bethlehem was a omen for the birth of Jesus?"

"Well no."

"Omens have been all over history, Emily. Many writers have included it in their work, even Shakespeare. And they're not all good, Emily. Some are very very bad. I don't want to end up like Julius Ceasar." Reese stopped shuffling through papers to look up at Emily. Reese's eyes held passion and belief, but behind that was a frightened little girl. "You have to believe me."

"How about you finish your story, then we'll see if this adds up." Emily put her hand over Reese's gently. Reese let out a sigh and closed the folder.

"I thought it was the pizza man. I told you that. I didn't hesitate to open the door. I just went right ahead and opened it and my heart dropped to my stomach.  

There was a boy about my age lying on my front porch, beat up and broken. I wanted to slam the door and never open it again. I wanted to close my eyes, count to three, and hope that once I opened them.. he'd be gone. But I didn't. I stayed strong.

I shook him, even slapped him, trying to wake him up. If his chest wasn't moving up and down, I would've thought him dead."

"And why didn't you call the police? Why didn't you let the adults handle it?"

Reese shrugged, shaking her head. "I-I dunno. I didn't think to call anyone. It never crossed my mind. I was thinking, 'Get it together, Reese. This boy is going to die if you don't help him. This poor, bloody guy is probably freezing, Reese. Get him a blanket.'

"And did you?"

Reese nodded her head repeatedly. "I did. Of course. I managed to haul him inside, lay him on my mom's thousand dollar couch - god she's going to kill me -, and cover him up."