Wrecked

Chapter 11

<B> Carly's P.O.V. </B>

Michaela didn't make it through the night. I think out of envy one Olivia have been taking it the hardest.

She was losing to much blood way to fast. She was struggling to keep consciousness and was losing quickly. Worst of all she was struggling to breathe each breath getting harder to take then the last.

Somehow the person who took her had done something to her lungs to make her breathing labored. I couldn't figure out what and I think that's what bothered me the most.

Finally at 1 a.m., her lungs collapsed simultaneously and with one last sharp intake she said, "I'm so sorry." Her voice was raspy and she sounded like she had been a smoker her whole life.

As soon as we lost her pulse, Olivia let out such an awful noise of sorrow, despair and most of all abandonment, I thought my heart would break for her.

Michaela helped me realize something very important when she left us. These people who I've only known about a week now, are the family I've never had.

<B> Flashback </B>

"Hello sir I'm her to meet um.. Mr. Collins." 18 year old me said.

"Yes, you must be Miss. Tracy. I am Brian Collins. Please call me Brian, I've never been one for formality." Brian replies.

"O-okay. I guess you know why I'm here and well have you found anything about my parents?" I ask. I have been in the foster care system since I turned 18 last week. A couple weeks ago I had called and bored him as a P.I. to help me learn about my parents. I have lived with so many different families I have lost count.

"Yes I have, but I must first ask you for my wages if you please. I have to do this because some people choose to not pay once I tell them." He says as politely as he can.

"Oh, right of course." I said and handed him the wad of cash.

I had started saving this money with I turned 15. I have worked at three jobs since the minute I turned fifteen. I worked at a café before school starts, a restaurant at night and a clothing store on the weekend in order to save up enough money.

I have always wanted to meet my parents to see them and ask them why they didn't want me. No one ever wants me. They use me as long as they need me and then bring me back to the agency and make up some excuse why I wasn't good enough for them. I also never had any real friends. Everyone thought I was weird and strange because I was quiet and hardly ever spoke. I would've had no problem speaking, but people never talked to me they just ignored me because I wasn't like them. I never had designer clothing, heck I was lucky if my many foster parents gave me a couple pairs of jeans (oversized ones) and large tee shirts and a pair of sneakers (the cheapest ones they make). I'd consider that day a shopping spree.

"Thank you, now down to business, I have some good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?" He asked snapping my out of my thoughts.

"Um.. The good first please." I replied.

"Okay, they're both alive..." He starts obviously trying to avoid the next part.

"And?" I question trying to help him along.

"They kind of went their own separate ways, live on the opposite sides of the world, and are alcoholics and drug addicts and live very crude lives." He says as quickly as he can.

Oh.My.... No this can't be happening I thought my parents were going to be respectable. Well to do husband and wife that had to keep a good reputation.