Perfect. Ain't. So. Perfect.

Chapter 7

2 months later.

I've been at Coleman Care for about 4 months now. Me and Akira have become best friends. Prosper has been trying to talk to me but I don't know right now. I talk to my mom everyday and still go to see her. My dad is out of the hospital. Why can't I live with him? I don't know. The he case workers are coming today to tell me everything about my living situations and to tell me what happened.

I'm kind of excited and nervous because I get to know the truth. My life is finally coming back together I hope. My mom says she think I'm ready for the truth and that whatever they tell me she's sorry. I'm glad my mom cares for me.

"Ciara Mr. Sheard is here for you." Mrs. Coleman said

"Thanks, I'll be right down." I think I said that a little too happy.

When I went down stairs I was surprised to see a young looking black man as the case worker, not to many of us around. I had an extra pep in my step because of him.

"Good Afternoon Mr. Sheard. I am Ciara... Ciara Young." I said smiling and reaching for his hand as he shook it.

"Good Afternoon to you too. Someone is very happy today."

Well indeed. I'm getting to know the truth after like 4 months duh.

"Yes , I am."

"Okay let's get to business. You can ask questions and I answer, or I can just tell you. Your choice."

"I'll ask questions. First question .. Can I go live with my dad? And can he adopt Akira?"

No man left behind policy!

"Well, You can't live with your dad an..." I cut him off.

"Why?" I said with my eyebrows raised.

"Your dad said he doesn't want you. He thinks it's best you stay here."

What a way to drown not dampen my mood. I was totally shocked. But I played it off.

"Oh okay, I like it here anyway. Next, What happened to my dad? Why is my mom in jail?"

"Your mom and dad were at home...."

Flashback:

My mom was watching TV in the bedroom while my dad was downstairs washing dishes. Now my mom is not the type to be nosey but my dads phone kept ringing back to back almost every time it went to voicemail. She was curious who was calling because my dad works for himself and has very little friends who are all at work.

"Oh Jesus Fix It!" My mom had yelled.

"You fine Cynthia." My dad had yelled back up to her.