Ophelia

one

East Barrington, Indiana was the most depressing city I have ever lived in during my sixteen years of living. East Barrington was so small, it resembled the size of a grain of salt that constantly had cloudy skies and reached the highest of 65 degrees.

On this particular day, I just knew that this day may not be the best. The sky looked like, its usual, one big gray sheet and it had just started to rain again. It was always raining. Just like it did this whole week.

Five days ago, I found Ms. Matthews passes out on the kitchen floor.

Four days ago, Ms. Matthews died from a heroin overdose.

Two days ago was Ms. Matthews' funeral. I was the only one who came.

Today is the day were my social worker would tell me where my next placement would be.

Carey Matthews was my foster mom for the past five years—the longest five years of my life. She was, what some would call, an acquaintance. I mean, I didn't hate her—didn't like her either. Was she perfect? Hell no. Did she try? Kind of, in the "I-need-the-money" type of way. But, it was safe to say that she wasn't on the right path. She was an addict. By the time she died, she barely ate; using drugs as food and alcohol as her water supply.

She constantly had men around. Sometimes they would be as young as me and some would be older than herself. But, quite honestly, she was beautiful. She had long, blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders, really big light brown eyes, and a big smile. But over time, you could tell the drugs and alcohol took a toll on her appearance, teeth rotting, skin drooping, her eyes going dull. But, none the less, still beautiful. Some would call Carey Matthews a loose cannon, a maniac, maybe even a cougar. But, in the eyes of the law, it's called statutory rape.

I sat in a chair in my social worker, Hannah Porter's, office, picking at the chipped, pale pink nail polish on my nails. I watched as she went through different drawers, opening and slamming them as she tried to find my files.

Hannah was the definition of a slob. Her beige-colored office was the size of a cardboard box with the faint stench of burnt popcorn and her signature apricot perfume. She could never make it to work on time and she would constantly forget things everywhere. But, she was a sweet lady who was one of the few people who actually enjoys their job.

After a bunch of rustling, she lets a small "Aha" as she grabbed my huge file and made her way to the seat in front of me.

I sat in her red plush chair, taking the attention of my nails to Hannah. There she sat, her rehearsed smile stayed displayed on her face but worry filled her eyes. She knew was going to happen. We all did.

I'm sixteen years old, only two more years until I was a legal adult and I would age out of the foster system. My time was running out and Hannah was terrified. Shit—so was I.

"What a bust, am I right?" she says she organizes papers on her desk.

I gave her a tight-lipped smile and played with the frayed string that peaked through my pants. They were the same ones I had since freshmen year; short on the ankles, tight around my butt, but they still fit. Kinda.

She shot me a big smile, "This might be a long meeting so I need some sort of pick me up."

She stood up, her frizzy blonde ponytail whipping around as she made her way to her coffee machine. "I swear, some people just aren't meant to do this sorta thing," She pauses, taking a sip of her coffee and waiting for me to respond. I never did. But damn, was that the truth.

She motions over to her vibrant green coffee maker, "Coffee?"

I shake my head, "Oh, um, no thanks. I don't like coffee."

She gives me a small shrug, "Good for you. I heard it stunts your growth anyways." She throws me a wink and takes another sip of her coffee. She makes her way back to the table, mint green mug in hand, and sits in her plush seat that was identical to the one I was in.

The room was silent, minus the soft sound of Hannah's slurps from her coffee. I clear my throat, "So, um, what happens now? Since, well, you know..." I say trailing off, trying my best to avoid the d word.

She abruptly slams her mug on the brown table, "Oh right, of course," she reaches for her papers again, "I have three options that might be best for you during this time."

I give her a confused look, "Three?"

She nods her head continuing, "One, another foster home, two, another group home—"

"Fuck those," I say sharply. Not that shit again.

"Or staying with a close family relative," she says looking up at me, grinning ear to ear.

Close family relative? I am my only close family relative. The hell is this?

I roll my eyes and sink further in my chair, "What are you talking about, Hannah?"

She sat up further in her chair, like a little girl waiting in line to see their favorite princess at Disneyland. "Someone reached out looking for you, Ophelia."

I stare at her like she had gown eleven heads and burst out laughing. What the hell is Hannah Porter smoking these days?

I look back at her, realizing that she isn't joining in on her own joke. Why the hell is she not laughing? That was one of the few times she had ever been made me laugh.

Then like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on my head, my face went cold, "Wait, you're serious? What are you talking about?

Hannah's smile took over her face, "Someone wants to take you in, O. God, isn't this amazing!" She lets out the biggest sequel I had ever heard out of a human while I struggle to keep up.

I think I'm going to fucking pass out.

The biggest gasped escaped from my lungs and it felt like the whole world had stood still. The corners of my lips slowly lifted, as if it were trying to resemble some sort of smile. Who would've thought after ten years that someone had actually wanted me?

I abruptly shook my head and lifted my hands in front of my face, signally for her to slow down, "Wait, wait, all of a sudden this person wants to take me in? I'm calling bullshit."

She nodded her head and continued, "They claim that they weren't made aware that your mom—"

"Juliet," I cut in.

"-Juliet had a child. He wants to take you in, isn't that fantastic?!" Hannah practically jumps out of her chair in excitement, her eyes bigger than life, and her smile as long as the Golden State Bridge. It was infectious.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "Wait, he? Who is he?"

She lets out another exciting banshee screech that surely left my ears ringing, "Now, Ophelia, this is the best part," Hannah's pale, small, hands reached out and grasped mine. Her hands were smooth and smelled like cherry blossom, couldn't say the same for mine.

Her ecstatic grin transformed into her excitement smile, "Ophelia, honey, it's your dad. He's on his way here as we speak."

Almost immediately my face went white. Holy shit. I had one of those?

---

Hellooo

This story has been in the making for a while and I figured it was time to pubshish it! This was a little short but this is only the beginning so please enjoy my first story ever!!

k bye and I'll update when I can :)