Haven

Prologue

Another foster. I had really fucked it this time. Fourteen years being a slave to the system had it's effect on me. Unlike my sister Jazz, a nice family did not take me in and put me straight and force me to get an education, but I wasn't complaining. At fifteen, almost sixteen, I was no stranger to weed, hash, ecstasy or LSD. In fact, it was what my life tolerable. Until that mishap of a day, I had been living in a facility with a bunch of other fuck-up kids with nobody to care for them, and it suited me perfect. I could do as I pleased, and nobody fucked with me because it's true what they say; looks can be deceiving. Standing at just five feet tall, weighing about 90 pounds, dimples, big blue eyes and cutesy blonde hair isn't the typical appearance of a girl who was known to knock people the fuck out. I say people because boys and girls alike have found themselves with concussions and stitches having tried to mess with me.

Unfortunately, I got busted with a few grams of the finest marijuana around these parts, and after being arrested for possession of illegal substances, deemed unfit to live in another facility, they found a foster for me. Not what I wanted to hear. Then my stupid social worker tells me that he lives an hour out of town. HE? The fuck is that? Naturally I wasn't impressed, so I did what I do best.
"Fuck you, if you don't take me back to the centre I'll off myself as soon as you leave this fucking room!" I spit at the balding, middle-aged prick in front of me. His actual chin rested upon five others and topping it all was ginger/grey stubble.
"Jaida,  you've caused more than enough trouble for one day, I warned you to stop making waves but now your chances are gone, if you won't stop bringing trouble upon yourself, that's fine," he says in his boring, wanna-be strict voice. "But you're not going to put the others in danger too."
My nostrils flared and I could feel my face heat up with my growing rage. "Screw you, fat virgin!" I yell as I slump back into the hard seat. "Give me my phone, now." I demand, in my 'don't fuck with me' voice.
He hands me my iPhone 11 with a look of exasperation. How, you ask? My dear sister buys me stuff like that a lot, to make up for the fact that I'm too fucked up to keep around. Not that I care, the expensive gifts and money is good enough.

The ugly prick disappears from the room and I sit there, earphones in and bored, praying the foster would leave me alone. I hate people. I was getting tired, my eyelids heavy and my emotions scattered everywhere. I needed a hug but I had nobody. I hated that too. It's lonely, drugs take that feeling away.
Startling me, a cold hand on my shoulder pulled me from my thoughts. I rolled my eyes upon seeing that asshole again and yanked my earphones out.
"Come on, your ride is here." He tells me, grabbing my two bulky looking bags and holding the door for me, evoking feelings of guilt for being so rude all the time. The walk from the little room to the reception seemed like I was walking the plank. Fosters were no good. The biggest fear was that I'd meet my match, someone who could take me. That terrified me, I was safe from the world due to a barrier of attitude and aggression. Internalizing everything was my way of coping, if nobody knew the truth it didn't exist.

"Jaida, this is Mr Fitzgerald, he's going to look after you for-" I cut him off, the barrier coming up upon seeing the tall, built and intimidating man.
"Until I mess up, see you in a few days baldy." I salute my social worker who cracks a smile. I take my bags and turn, locking eyes with the handsome foster. His brown eyes bored into mine, he looked annoyed but nodded to the social worker and led me out of the building. A building I wouldn't return to for a long time, but I knew nothing of the changes that would occur in my life nor was I ready for them.