A Call for Help

Chaper Twelve: Dad?

Samantha woke up with tears on her eyes. She'd had a dream, no memory, of the worst stepfather she'd ever had. He had a son who was a couple years younger than her. The man treated her like shit, but treated his own son like the king of the world.
His son had very messy brown hair and green eyes. He was just a little chubby and spoiled as a kid can get. A little short for his age as well.
Her mother had been with that man for six months before she divorced him because he hit her. He'd hit Samantha once, but she'd done nothing. Samantha had pretty well lost her trust in her mother then. He'd also slowly made get eat less and less until she was eating a piece of bread every few days and that's only because she stole it.
Terrible time. She missed her real father. It had been years. What had he done all that time? She thought she'd never see him again anyway, so what did it matter? Then she remembered where she was, and what had been taken.
She made up her mind. She was going to hate herself for it, but she wanted to. She was going to cut herself again. They showered every morning. She could sneak it in her clothes easily.
Speak of the devil, wake-up call. Every was up and finding clothes. In the commotion grabbing the blade and hiding it was easy. She walked out behind everyone else, because nobody stopped for her to jump in line.

* * *

He pulled on to the small parking lot of the foster care center. He had to wait another five minutes. He was driving all night. For worry, or the coffee he'd drank, he was anxious and jittery.
What had happened to his little girl? The last he'd seen her, she was a curious little girl full of joy. She'd looked like a corpse on the television yesterday. The woman on the TV had offered the explanation of "she came from a rough home".
Is that how her mother had treated her? She couldn't have changed that much. She loved Samantha with all her heart. James knew he was the one that had messed up. He'd drank too much alcohol then. Still did drink a lot.
He had to change, for Samantha. He grabbed a tooth brush and a bottle of water. He brushed his teeth thoroughly, then checked them in the mirror. They were still yellow, so he brushed them until he was satisfied.
After that, he realized he needed to shave. He was suprised he'd even remembered to bring a razor. After shaving with some water because he forgot his shaving cream, he changed clothes. It was difficult in the car, but he did it.
By that time the foster care opened up. He suddenly felt afraid. What if she didn't recognize him? Would the people in front let him in? What if Samantha was mad? He gathered his courage and stepped inside.
"You're early," a woman said after looking up from her phone surprised by the door opening.
"I'm here to uh," he thought. It would be crazy of the walked in and said, I'm here for my daughter. They'd ask for his name. "To adopt," he finished. He didn't care what it took to get her back.
"Alright, go right in," she said. He walked in and looked over the crowd of kids. There, at the back of the room. She had her head down, but he knew it was her. He walked up and crouched down beside her with a sad smile. She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. After a moment she said one word.
"Dad," it sounded like a question. He smiled thankful she remembered him. Then she hugged him like he might disappear and cried on his shoulder. He held her close, wondering what had happened in their lost time.

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Sorry for late updates! My mother had kept me busy these past few days. Also I'm slowly making the chapters larger because they're very short. I'm loving the plot and some things are surprising me! Like I say often, the story tells itself. Quote not mine btw I heard it somewhere...