Bad Boy Cures My Nightmares

Bad Boys my Foster Room Mate

It's a darkness, one that can easily over run your insides and eat the very goodness within you.

I softly studied him, he was leaned over fuming with such hatred that she didn't know what to say or do.

He's been this way since his mothers death, well since he arrived about three days ago.

Its not like I don't see every emotion, I mean when your his room mate you tend to see everything.

Feeling his depression sink into me, I reflexively moved my fingers over the scars along my wrist. It was a harsh year, stupid permanent results for stupid temporary problems.

The door creaked open and I flashed my eyes to the television in front of us as his eyes moved to the door.

My curiosity dying, I looked to the door to see Carol smiling at us both "dinners ready so come down."

Carol is the owner of this foster house, well a very distraught foster house, she keeps us until we're about twenty then gives us money to go start a new life and what not.

She has money up the butt so this huge home and all forty six children is nothing. Especially since her husband passed away.

Standing up, I looked to Michael who starred at the tv blank.

"I'm going to eat ill save you a seat." I hoped to get some emotion from him but I got nothing.

Grabbing my sweater I pulled it on and headed out the door closing it behind me.

"How's the new creepy room mate going?" I looked over my shoulder scowling at the tall skater, "Trent there are sixteen other girls in this place, why do you insist on bothering me?"

He shrugged walking beside me, "you're the prettiest." I scoffed, "sure and Marilyn Monroe created light." I rolled my eyes.

A small smirk reached his lips, I gave him a wary look before he scooped me up and walked me into the dinning hall.

I laughed as he put me in a seat and sat beside me.

The seat beside me had been empty so I simply placed a hand on the chair.

"What are you doing?" Trent asked amused

"I'm saving Michael a seat." we are always somehow short a chair or two and he isn't going to be the loner that sits in his room and eats.

Trent had something flash across his green eyes and then they quickly disappeared as I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What?" I prompted.

He shook his head "nothing, just got lost in your eyes." I rolled my big blues and shook my head.

"Luna you look good this night." Quince winked my way and I sent a smile "thank you Quince. You too."

I've been here since I was ten, for seven years I've lived here, which means I know A LOT of these fosters.

Yes, my name is Luna, honestly, it started when I came here, my mom was a drug abuser and always smelt of weed, and my father long out of existence, they had me in a tub and I was taken care of by the neighbor who was a nurse. When my mom was asked to name me, she stated my name would be Weed. wonderful name right?

No.

When Carol picked me up she realized over the couple of days that not only did I not have a real name but I loved the night. So she named me Luna. the night.

I have a busy past, but I hate thinking about it, so I forget it.

Moving my hand as Michael entered the room, I smiled to him and he took the seat beside me.

A couple more people filled in and then we were served by the maids.

"Thank you." I said to Mary who was cute red head maid about twenty six years old.

Trent watched me take the first bite of my food and I cocked a dark eyebrow at him.

He just grinned like he knew something I didn't , and dug into his food.

Carol sat at the right end and the oldest of the foster kids Ronny sat at the other end.

"Watch out Luna he's seeing if his dick would like your lips." Zachary scoffed laughing.

I shuttered "you're both so gross." moving my eyes over the table at everyone's conversations.

It's funny how we all are really like a family. No cliques, a place where jocks could have amazing conversations with a nerd. I love it.

Looking to the lonely boy beside me he took a bite of his steak and kept his eyes tainted on the cup in front of him.

He hasn't talked since he got here and it made me wonder if he even did talk.

I watched him begin to fade into the darkness and reflexively placed a hand onto his arm catching a death stare.

But it softened as my face filled with fear.

He starred at my hand that still stayed on his arm and I let my eyes follow slowly removing my eyes.

"Sorry." I said moving my focus elsewhere.

His glare still keeping me shooken up what a glare.

If looks could kill I think I would've been dead.