THE WILD

Chapter One - Cameron

I sat on the felt, burgundy couch, my hands drifting across its soft exterior. "Are you hungry?" asked Lyla. I rolled my eyes,
"Not if you're cooking Lyla." My foster mother flashed me a thin smile. Her blonde hair was parted on the side and curled on the ends in an effort to distract others from her uneven facial features. Her eyes were different sizes and her mouth was uneven; It was very slight but It was still noticeable.
"You can call me mom." She offered, for the fifth time today.
"I know Lyla. I didn't do it for a reason." I didn't look at her; Not in shame but in a persistent effort to make her dislike me. I continued to stare lifelessly through the window into the green, lively woods. I remembered my mother and father. The three of us would have been out enjoying the beautiful summer day. My parents had always loved each other, almost as much as they had loved me. I know I seem like a cold and evil person, but I wasn't then. I loved my parents. I loved camping and biking and I even played soccer for a while. But then my dad lost his job and my mom went back to work. Things were rough for a while until dad got another job at a new law firm. They must have celebrated because not too long after mom told me she was pregnant. Mom quit her job and after a while, Oliver was born. He was a cute baby. His wide green eyes matched with the rest of the family and his pink skin was so soft.

I awaited tears that didn't come. I wanted the memory of them to be fresh enough for tears, but it wasn't. I had gone over the memory of them so many times it had become like reciting the pledge of allegiance at school. My mother's brown hair was short and pixie cut. A lot of girls don't look good with a brown pixie cut, but my mother and her green eyes could rock the look better than anyone I'd ever seen. My mother was the kind that liked loose clothes; not baggy but loose. Pictures of roses were on most of her shirts and dresses. She said roses reminded her of an "edgy elegance", whatever that meant. My father was a fit man along with my mother. His green eyes were much darker than the rest of our family, and at night they hinted a green undertone. His dark blonde hair and white teeth made him look like someone who could be on T.V. and he had a voice that you could just sit and listen to no matter what it was saying. My dad was almost my best friend. When I was young he used to fall asleep in my bed telling me silly stories he made up as he went along. Sometimes my mom would wake him up at some point in the night but sometimes she would just leave him there. I strived to remember the way my parents and little brother smelled but I couldn't on command. Sometimes I would be doing something and a smell would remind me of one of them but I could never grasp it. It was like a dream from weeks of nights passed. I looked down into my hand as I fiddled with the black strings holding the small gold-painted pallet to my wrist. I drifted my nail across the curves of the letters spelling out daughter. My Dad had bought them when Oliver was born. Mother Father Daughter and Son. All good looking, nice, and fit; the perfect family. Lyla had asked before if I wanted to go out, but it could never be the same. I didn't want to replace them.
My mom had died two years ago, only seven months after my father. My father had died in a bank robbery. He had been going to get money for my thirteenth birthday party. He was shot three times in the arm and twice in the leg, and had bled to death before help could come. My mother died seven months after, due to a drug overdose. She couldn't cope without her husband, and two children to feed.
Oliver was probably about two years old by now. He was taken away from me and adopted by someone else. Though it did comfort me to know he had a permanent home. He was, of course, a baby. No one wanted a 13-year-old girl. I'm not cute anymore; I'm damaged goods. I have been with 4 different foster parents in the past 2 years. None of them could stand my refusal to try and have a new family. I didn't want a new family.
I was put into foster care with Lyla as my 5th foster parent. Lyla was always skipping from one boyfriend to another, and almost always seemed to attract the bad ones. Despite their horrible personalities, she fell for them every time, only for them to take advantage of Lyla's money. Most boyfriends were way older than Lyla; some could even be her dad. I would never say anything to her though. She would think that I cared, which I don't.
There were no kids in the neighborhood my age, except for one boy; Matt. I only knew his name because everyone in school knows his name. He makes my heart skip a beat whenever I get a glimpse of him. His hair was a caramel brown that perfectly went above his head in a textured fringe haircut that looked freshly cut. I wondered how much money his family had with all the sports he played he must have some kind of private lessons. Not many people are just that good. His skin had a golden tan that seemed to make the summer sun shine brighter, and his hands were manly but, like hands on a hunter; graceful but rough. His eyes were a soft brown that you could melt into; the kind that made you feel safe and at home. His face was clear of wrinkles but had a scar on his upper left forehead and a natural cut in his eyebrow. At school before summer, all the girls would be talking to him, and the guys would just stand behind him hoping to get the leftovers, which there was usually plenty as most days he was just distant from the conversations with adoring admirers and would leave immediately with the bell. Matt always seemed to be outside playing basketball, baseball, or soccer with the other jock guys that would come from nearby neighborhoods to hang out with him. Girls would come to watch and would sometimes have unofficial cheer meetings on the side of the game. When they would all leave he would stay out and play on his own. I heard a lot of fighting coming from his house most days. I assumed his parents were in a rough patch but a lot were. Not many marriages last anymore.
"How about we go enjoy the day, huh, Cam?" Lyla looked at me with uninspired hope in her eyes.

I grabbed my backpack and opened the door. "Don't call me that." I shot her a moment's glare of annoyance as I shut the door behind me. As usual, Matt was outside, but today he was alone and walking towards the woods. His grey T-shirt hugged his chest and his un-ripped black jeans were tucked into the ankle of his black and white converse I flipped on my backpack and decided to follow him. Soon he had reached the woods and he didn't walk the path but instead, he walked right through the bushes. Curious, I walked a while behind, following the dent he left. Soon I reached a break of constant bushes, where I discovered a beautiful opening. A river gently flowed through a shallow canyon. Tall trees flew up into the sky with leaves exploding out of the top creating a canopy of green. Matt was laying on a fallen tree staring into the leaves. I gathered up all of my courage and was about to step out of the bushes.
"Hey, Matt." I heard an unknown voice say. The words spooked me back into the cover of the bushes. A girl walked down a narrow path, her dahlia tinted lips curved into an exultant smile as she flipped her slightly wavy blonde hair. I hadn't seen her at school but she looked like a classical cheerleader, especially with her glowing tanned honey skin. She was wearing a yellow T-shirt that was tied tight with a hair tie in the back. Her blue jeans incorporated holes and light dirt and grass stains. Her smile exposed her white teeth and I could have sworn she was moving in slow motion as her crystal blue eyes floated behind her to another girl walking with her hands in her pocket. Her bushy eyebrows were raised slightly as she laughed, her teeth barely visible from behind her burnt orange cosmos flower lips. Her brown eyes perfectly matched her light chestnut complexion and curly brown hair. Her curvy hips and healthy waist were wrapped in a black tank top and grey rice pattern leggings. Her road trip blue off-brand converse were dirty on the bottom and toe. Her fingernails were bit down as short as they could be. She waved to a fallen oak tree across the opening, where a boy was lying. I hadn't noticed him until now. He had dark natural red hair that was cut on the sides and fluffed up in the front with some natural curl. His eyes were both different colors. One was a sophisticated brown that made him look wise, and the other was a fun blue that made him look like a playful child. The freckles that fell over his nose were distinct but faded just under the middles of his eyes.
"Amber, Jess! How's it goin' ladies." I wanted to step into the open, but my knees were locked like stone as I was still trying to process the circumstances of the situation unfolding before me. The blonde girl laughed as she looked back to her follower and mumbled a repetition.

"Ladies." As I prepared myself, I pushed myself to move my legs forward from the opening. I took a deep breath and tried to gain some confidence. I'll be fine. It's no big deal just some people. It's a public park, no reason I couldn't just happen to be here, right? Ya... Easy peasy. I ducked my head under the top of the bushes and walked forward. Oh God, what am I doing?