Fostered

Beginings

1⃣

As I lugged my old, dilapidated suitcase across the hard tiled floor of the government building, I couldn't help but be nervous about being sent half way across the country. As an unwanted foster child, the conveyance of any happiness was completely unnecessary. Or at least that's what Mrs Kennedy had been trying to drill into my mind since my name was added to the long and seemingly endless list of unfortunate fostered children.

"Are you ready Annabelle?" chimed Mrs Kennedy as I struggled towards the yellow and white taxi.

"Yes" I panted, as bits of my long ginger hair shadowed my face from view. Here we go again I thought, rolling my small watery blue eyes. An other wonderful trip across the country in complete solitude.

As I reached the cab, the driver lifted my suitcase into the trunk as Mrs Kennedy stared down at my untidy attire. I wore a baggy white shirt, black leggings and white, ankle converse. My hair was tied back into a messy braid, wich was falling apart. Nothing I considered exceedingly untidy, but apparently Mrs Kennedy did not agree.

"Well, um, we better be going then." she chirped in her usual overly posh manner, a long, thin braid swishing joyfully behind her.

It wasn't that I didn't like Mrs Kennedy but she always seemed to be oblivious to what the word 'foster' means. She must think that just because she interviews the family once, that means that I will be united and loved by the family or any one else for that matter. But this is never the case, never.

"Are you excited to meet your new parents Annabelle?" She asked, her bright eyes fixed on mine.

"Right, my parents" I replied. "The ones who abandoned me, the ones who hated me or the ones I haven't met?" I said slowly.

Mrs Kennedy's face contorted slightly before bouncing back to an uncomfortable smile.

"Your new parents" she replied smartly, annoyingly.

I stared out the window in hope to avoid any further conversation. Not that Mrs Kennedy got the message at all, in fact, far from it.

"Your moving to Orange County" she recited "I believe you will have two younger sisters and one older brother"

Wow the joy I thought, what I always wanted.

"Do you think I will be happy there?" I asked surreptitiously, already half expecting the automated response.

"Your happiness is irrelevant to the system, all that matters is your safety" Mrs Kennedy countered as a small avalanche of makeup rolled down her pale and over powdered face.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, the dreary old cab driver announced our arrival at the domestic terminal. My nerves began to finally take hold. This would be the third foster family I had stayed with and from my experiences, not one person has been nice to me in any surcumstance.

Mrs Kennedy flung open her door and proceeded towards the front of the car in order to pay for the journey. She straightened her frilly, girlish dress impatiently as she waited for me to get out of the taxi, her back turned.

As my white converse became ensconced with muddy water, I slipped, landing in the middle of the freezing muck. The cab driver snickered behind his aged hand as I glared indignity at him.

"Oh! Annabelle, why are you sitting in a muddy puddle?" whined Mrs Kennedy.

Yeah, I was tired and wanted to sit down after sitting down for half an hour in the smelly taxi cab. And you know, a puddle seemed like a nice place to sit. I thought angrily as I wiped myself off. Mrs Kennedy sighed loudly, her bright green acrylic nails tapping impatiently against her thigh.

I don't think she knew how hard being a foster child was. Mrs Kennedy had been born into a perfect family, in a perfect neighbour hood with perfect friends in a perfect school. I would be willing to bet everything I owned that Mrs Kennedy had never been bullied, had to steal food to prevent starvation, had never been kicked out of home and had never been unwanted and unloved. The latter was unfortunately my childhood, my situation. I glared sourly at Mrs Kennedy, jealousy pulsing through me.

But why? Why would I want to be like someone so one minded and inconsiderate? After all, I believe that its the tragedies and the heart ache that made me who I am now, not some perfect life I've always wanted. But still...

"Now, Annabelle" the overly happy woman stated "here is your aeroplane ticket. You depart in three hours. Do you want help checking in your luggage?" she glanced at my brown, musty suite case with an edge of disgust

"No." I protested, wanting to escape Mrs Kennedy at the first chance humanly possible.

"Are you sure" Mrs Kennedy continued.

I just looked at her, my temper rising. Did she think I was incapable or something? Apparently I had unappeased Mrs Kennedy because as soon as this answer escaped my lips she turned on her alligator hide stilettos and clopped noisily out of the terminal, her braid no longer swinging joyfully.

Hey guys, hope you enjoyed the first chapter of 'Fostered'. Feedback is appreciated, tell me what you think about the rest of the book as well. Thnx❤