Kate And Meredith

Meredith

My screams became weaker and weaker as blood drained from my body- Oh, I'm sorry. Too far into the story? Yeah, probably. Well, I'll rewind.

You know that feeling you get when you move? Start a new school? Move to another city you didn't even know was on the map? Yeah. That feeling. Dread. Well, today, I get that all. Welcome to my life in foster care.

I dragged my light suitcase through the halls of my use-to-be-home, unusually sad that I was leaving. I actually liked my foster parents. They had been the only people in years who weren't in it just for the money. They acted like I was their own child.

I sighed as my glassy eyes flitted over the scenery. The worn couch, the old oak writing desk, the fireplace that seemed to be warm even when it wasn't lit. I smiled a little as I absentmindedly traced my hand along the stair rail, remembering the fond memories of this place.

A soft voice rang through the silence, tugging me away from the daydream. "Sweetie, are you ready to go?" My foster mother asked, walking into the room. I looked into her bloodshot eyes; I hadn't been the only one almost in tears.

"Y-yeah, I have everything." I said, looking down and walking closer to her. After a few moments of silence, I slowly looked back up at her. "Do I have to go?" I said, tears finally escaping my eyes. She didn't answer. Instead, I found myself in a tight and warm hug, tears dripping onto my shoulder.

Soon I felt another pair of arms around me. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Wrapped in each other's arms, my foster parents and I just stood there, holding on to the memories of the past three years, the best three years, of our lives.

- - - - -

I held the picture close to my chest, forcing back tears. Rolling my suitcase across the street to the black car that would take me to my new foster home, I tried my best to avoid eye contact with the man standing in front of the car. When I made it over to the car, not a word was spoken as the man put my suitcase into the trunk.

I looked over to the other side of the street, where my foster parents had been as we said our final goodbyes. I thought I saw a flash of white and black out of the corner of my eye, but when I focused on it I saw nothing.

"Kid, I'm talking to you." The man said, startling me and involuntarily looking at him. "Wh-what, sir?" I said, my knuckles turning white on the picture frame. "I said, do you want to ride in shotgun or the backseat?" He asked gruffly. "I, um, I'll take the back." I said.

I climbed over the seat and into a sitting position, never letting go of the picture. As the engine started up, I lowered the picture to my lap, staring at the happy image from my twelfth birthday. My foster father's brown orbs shown brightly, almost as brightly as my mother's grass green ones.

I remember the day like it was yesterday. We had gone to my favorite park for a picnic, and we had picked the perfect day. The sun reflected off of the lake with a beautiful shimmer. The flowers bloomed all the colors of the rainbow. It was paradise. Pure joy filled my eyes and smile in the captured moment. Sometimes I would look back on that day and wished that I could live in that picture. Just live in the carefree moment for eternity.

Drifting away in my daydream, I didn't realize my eyes were closing until sleep overtook me.