Book Of Thalia

1

My nails have been bitten down to the nub yet I still continue to dig my teeth into the little bit remaining. The metallic and familiar taste of blood prods my tongue after a moment more of chewing on my tender fingers. I take deep breaths...five seconds in...five seconds out...

It is my was first night here and I'd already rather go back to the home. Sante Foster Home for Orphaned Children. I never thought I would be desperate enough to want to return to that retched building, which no doubt has been crumbling since its foundation was poured. Children who go in, rarely leave without some caliber of mental, emotional, or physical trauma. The percent that do manage to escape the venomous keepers, do so through the sleeping pills and razor blades. Not a loving place to leave your baby. Adoption is nice...but the key is to leave a baby, child, or teenager at a place that will care for them while the adoption process is going on.

Only six kids have been adopted in the since I've been there. Two died not let long after their adoption. The first was an overdose and the second was in a "car accident". I didn't believe that, she told me what she was going to do if he touched her again...

I was picked up two hours ago. They helped me settle in, showing me my room. The walls are a pale, sickly yellow color, the painted obviously chipping. My eyes lowered to examine the floor. Clean. Cleaner than the carpets at Sante's at least. Minimal stains spot the light blue carpet, they are deeply imbedded yet faded into; no doubt from an extended period of use. The room smells of playdo, soil, and mildew.

I sat my luggage (one small bag which contained my personal items: my mother's locket, a lip balm, two t-shirts, a pair of pajamas, one pair of jeans, a hat, socks, and deodorant) on the floor adjacent to the doorway. I took a shallow breath and stepped further into room. My sneaker clad feet sank into the surprisingly plush carpet.

"Welcome home," she says, I turn to meet her bright blue eyes. A smile too wide to be sincere, greets me. "Thank you." I retort quietly. She looks over to him, shaking her hand from his. "Dinner will be ready soon." She continues, quickly turning to return downstairs, leaving him in the room with me. "We are happy to have you here Thalia," he moves closer to me. "Thank you Stephen." I reply, moving further into the room. Distance. I glide my finger along the wooden molding wrapped around the walls. "The bathroom is down the hall, Laura and I's bedroom is at the other end, and the basement is through the door in the kitchen. If you need anything let us know okay?" He speaks while I walk slowly around the room. My eyes remain on the bed, "Okay." The comforter is cream colored, knitted, just like the blankets underneath that peak out from the bottom of the poorly made bed. "Good, I'll come get you for dinner soon." He smiles genuinely at me. Stephen leaves after a moment, now I was alone in my new room. I sat on the crinkling comforter and pulled my bag onto my lap. Unzipping and rummaging for a moment, I pulled out my mother's locket. Holding it in-between my palm and chest, I warmed the chilled copper. Years of exposure have caused it to tarnish, green splotches now cover the base of the necklace, each spot a darker green then the other. I pop the clasp open and examine the fading yet familiar face whose photographed eyes gaze at mine. Almond shaped brown eyes stare back at me, black hair cascading over her left shoulder, and a warm smile beams. Mom...

That night, I sat a the four sided table across from Laura. She started fervently, her glassy eyes never leaving me. I glanced upwards a few times in between fork fulls of chicken and salad. "What is that?" She eventually spoke. Her frail looking hand wrapped into a fist while her pointer finger aimed menacingly at my neck. I brought my fingers up, grazing the locket.

"It was my mother's." I answer quietly, still examining her face. She looks angry. "It's beautiful Thalia," Stephen smiles warmly. I catch him reach his hand underneath the table, almost like a ghost, I felt heat radiate off of his hand as it landed on my knee. My face burned with discomfort, I quickly shifted my leg away from him. "Take it off." She whispered harshly. "Excuse me?" I ask, not sure if I really heard correctly. "Take it off!" She shouted violently, leaping over the table, thrashing at my neck. I fall backwards, trying to scoot away from her. Stephen grabs Laura's waist and halls her away from me. She struggles, her limbs flailing, spitting and screaming. My eyes widen in terror as Stephen bellows over Laura's roars, "Go up stairs...Lock your door!" I ran up the narrow stairway to my room. Slamming the door and locking it behind me, I slide to the floor and drag the blanket off of the bed, wrapping it around my body.

She threw something and it hit him, I heard some banging and then it was quiet. He didn't come up stairs with her and he didn't say goodnight. My hands fly up to cover my ears but get tangled in the warm knit blanket... She will hurt me. I heard her stumbling up the steps, but she stops outside if my door. I pull my hands free from the blanket and grip the locket in my left hand, the other hand searching the floor of the dark room for my bag.

Phone

My hand reaches the small plastic object. I flip it open and dial 911. Laura slams her body into the door, pieces of wooden shards fly off of the aged door.

The call went through and I sigh in relief as sirens in the distance become closer and closer. Laura screeches and slams into the door more and more... The door downstairs is forced open... Laura is confronted...she screams in pain and a thump comes from outside my door which was close to having a body sized hole in it....

"Cone on sweety, we'll take you to the station. You'll be safe there." A female police officer soothed me, smoothing my hair and moving it out of my face. I looked her in the eyes. "Thank you." I nod at her, I know what comes next...