We are one (#Wattys2016)

Prolouge

What! What do you want! Piss off and leave me alone. Your not gonna go are you? Fine! My name is Tris Prior. (Beatrice if you wanna use my real name. )But I hate that name. I hate them. My parents. The things they used to do to me. ..

I sit in my room at the care home. Ever since I got taken away from my family ( if you can call them that.) I've lived with two foster families. Got expelled from both of the schools when I was with them as well. I hated both of them. I lived with my first foster family for about 1 months before they kicked me out. And then the second one for 2 months before they kicked me out again. I guess I'm used to it not being wanted. I stare around at the bare walls of my bedroom. All the kids here are a little afraid of me. I don't have any friends here. None. I'm not really the best at making friends. The older girls here are all into makeup and hair. But I'm not into that. You could call me a tomboy if you wanted too. The only times I really come out of my room is for food or to get shouted at by matron. Or to go to school if I have too. When I was with my real parents. We were living in poverty. My dad had made us this way. And we had nothing at all. I was lucky if I got a meal sometimes. Usually my dad would shove me off the chair and finish my food. I wouldn't do anything though. I just couldn't. I did grow up in a pretty rough neighbour hood. There was a drug dealer down the street and we got robbed a lot. The police didn't do anything though. So when I came to the care home I didn't really have anything. I came to the care home when I was around 15 or I'm 16 now and starting junior year. But no one cares at all.
I hear a knock on my door. I roll my eyes and walk over to the door to see matron standing there with a clipboard. I back up and fall on to the edge of my bed.
"Good afternoon Beatrice." I cringe at my name. I hate it so much.
"Tris" I growl
She glares at me her dark brown eyes pierce me.
"Don't try to sass me young lady!" She yells "now I have some good news. For me anyway. You'll be going to a new foster family. But honestly I don't know why they would want you? Anyway. You'll be leaving tomorrow. Pack now please. But just remember this. If you screw this up once more. You'll be going back to the juvenile prison centre where you belong!" She says and turns on her heal and walks out.
"Matron from hell" I mutter and pull the suitcase from under my bed and begin to pack.

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