Flutter Fuck

4| Adapt

The next morning, I woke with a stomach ache I've learned to ignore over time. A rhythm of knocks against my door directs my attention away from the ceiling and I hesitate whether I should even bother getting up today.

"Lana, Emma says you have an hour before I have to drive you to school." Dylan yells.

Groaning, I realize it's Monday and not going to school would only cause Emma to force me into who- knows-what-else she's been looking into. "Thanks." I say and Dylan steps back from my door, but doesn't walk away. Understanding that he's searching for my moving feet on the ground, I sit up and walk to the bathroom in my room, watching his feet walk away.

My face was unusually pale in contrast to my normally tan skin, the most recent bruises on the sides of my face half faded. My long, wavy, turquoise hair seemed dry and my brown eyes were lifeless, pupils naturally large.
Sighing, I stepped into the shower-hot water stinging at the scars covering my body. I washed my hair with the candy scented shampoo and it's matching conditioner. Then I continued by roughly scrubbing at my skin with the minty soap. After finishing, I stepped out of the tub, wrapping a gifted towel around myself.

Dry, I change into a set of clothes from yesterday's shopping trip despite the frustrated feeling at the pit of my stomach. "Fvck you, Lana." I cursed. "You've managed to rely on yet another set of people. Will you ever fvcking learn?"

"Lana? You planning on coming down for breakfast?" Ethan asks, surprisingly without knocking. "Lana?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." I say, opening the door and walking out into the hallway.

Ethan smirks glancing at me as we walk to the kitchen, both ready and dressed. "You clean up nicely." He says, simply.

"I will fvck you up, Kid. Eat your fvkcing cereal and shut up, will you? It's too early for your kiddish comments." I joke, watching Dylan walk in.

Dylan looks at my empty hands and nods. "You're not eating?" He asks.

"Yeah, just about to grab a piece of toast." I mutter, forcing myself to chew on the crunchy bread. "Anyway, I'm sure you have things to do-"

Dylan shook his head. "Not until later, so if you're ready, we can go now." He says with a shrug.

I nod and Ethan follows behind us to the car. Once we get seated and Dylan pulls out of the lot, I watch the scene in front of my with clear eyes. It hits me, I'm really a foster kid. Mom actually gave me up and away to a couple of strangers as if I were nothing to her.

The image of her crying after her precious glass bottle as they pulled me away, nearly a few feet away from her, revisits my memory. A loud knock interrupts me from my moment of silence as I stare at my bare and scarred body with angry eyes. "Lana, get the fvkcing door!" Mom screams from the kitchen where, as I pass by, she stands crouching for another drink.

Sighing, I pull my shirt over myself and open the door, eyes wide as the uniforms come into focus. I stare, unsure of how they came to land here of all places. "Is your mother home?" A man asks, pulling out his badge and raising his sunglasses to his head.