Apple face

1. A moment of joy

"Are you sure you want to do this?" asked my social worker. She stared at me, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes," I said.

"It's going to be a lot harder if you go down this path. If you stay in care until you are 24 your housing and schooling will be paid for completely. But if you sign yourself out now you will be receiving no more support or money."

"It'll be fine. I don't even wanna go to university anyways and my dad said I could go live with him," I said. "Besides I hate having you guys monitor and control every aspect of my life. At least this way I will finally be free."

"Well if this is what you really want,"murmered my social worker as she shook her head. She slid a paper and a pen across the table to me. "Just sign this and you will be officially no longer be in care."

The moment I signed my name along the black line, I felt as if a million stones had been lifted off of my back. Finally I was free. I could do whatever I wanted now. The past was now behind me.

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As I walked to the bus stop from my social worker's office I couldn't help but skip a little.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" asked a man who was leaning against a tree while smoking a cigarette.

"It's my birthday today. I'm eighteen."

"Oh really? Well happy birthday then. Just don't go buying too much drinks tonight," he grinned wryly.

"I can't promise anything. I just wanna be another drunk indian," I told him and continued on my way. Now it was on to my dad's house. He lived way across the city in the north end. It would be a long bus ride for sure, but waiting was something I excelled at.

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If you look in a mirror you see yourself reversed, opposite the way everyone else sees you. If you got a mole on your right cheek in the mirror, really the mole is on your left cheek. And mirrors lie as well. They can convince you that you look utterly different from the way you really are. They are tricksters.

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It was weird, but somehow I expected my dad to still be living in the same townhouse he had been living in when I was five. But now he lived in a ratty house that he shared with his brother and his family.

It was a dilapidated looking piece of shit. It looked so fragile, like one poke would send it crashing to the ground. Two stories and a backyard of concrete. As I walked up to the house I checked my paper again to make sure I was at the right address. As I did so the front door to the house opened and my dad stepped out with a big smile on his face.

"Louise, you're here. I was standing here all day waiting for you. Come on in. Everyone is in the kitchen and they are dying to meet you," he told me.

Suddenly I felt shy and nervous. "Okay," I said as I walked up the stairs. I hadn't seen my dad in over a year months, but we had talked yesterday on the phone when I had wanted to confirm he really would let me move in with him.

"Look at you, "he said when I reached him "You're gotten so beautiful. You're a spitting image of your mother for sure."

"Haha," I mumbled. I followed my dad into the house, closing the door behind me. I was carrying a small duffel bag which carried all my life's belongings. It had never felt so light until that moment.

My dad led the way to the kitchen. Sitting at the table were a bunch of Indians, all native like me with long, dark hair and brown skin. There was a man who I assumed was my uncle and a woman who I assumed was his wife, three small children and a boy around my age.

The boy who was around my age was most likely my cousin. He was tall and slender and was exceptionally good looking. He was smiling at me, his teeth so white, and was the first to speak. "Hey uncle is this our long lost cousin?"

"She sure is,"said my dad. "Everyone this is my daughter Louise finally returned home."

"It's nice to finally meet you,"said the boy approaching me. "All your dad does is talk about you. And I've always wanted a cousin. My name is Trevor by the way."

"Oh, it's nice to meet you too,"I said awkwardly and held out my hand for a handshake. But he ignored that and just pulled me into a hug.

"Enough with that. We're family. Don't be so shy, "Trevor told me as I listened to his heartbeat, with my face pressed against the warmth and broadness of his chest.

Family. That word made my eyes tear up. I couldn't stop them. In that small piece of time I was just so happy I could have died.  When I finally pulled away from Trevor's chest his shirt was all wet. He looked at me with confusion written all over his face.

"Geez son you're making her cry," admonished my uncle, but when he looked at me his eyes were full of understanding. "What's wrong girl?"

"Nothing, I'm just h-happy," I smiled a little as I hurriedly wiped my tears away.

I'd suffered through years of loneliness at my foster homes. I'd always envied those who actually had families because I didn't have one. But now I did. Now I finally had a home.

Of course happiness was something that never lasted, but at least for the moment I could hold it greedily to my heart and wish it would always stay.

Next update next Monday.