“Enter.” A harsh voice called from behind the door. I stepped into my social worker’s office, which was quite a privilege as we weren’t allowed in here unless we were being told off seriously or we were being told important news. I figured the most likely possibility was that I was in trouble, as I’m not the best behaved fifteen year old.
“You wanted to see me?” I said timidly. This seemed like the best opportunity to play innocent.
“Ah yes. Anne.” Mrs Alan said, looking down her nose at me. She was in her early thirties, but she had the maturity of a very strict eighty year old. Her mousy brown hair was always scraped back into a very tight bun that managed to pull her face back too. She wore rectangular glasses in front of her black eyes that bore into you intimidatingly even when you had done nothing wrong.
“Don’t you play the innocent card with me young lady, because surprisingly, you aren’t in trouble.”
“Really?” I said unsure.
“Yes. Now, I need to have a serious talk with you, so that means no witty, snidey, or sarcastic little comments. Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded at her, knowing I would just be making all of those comments in my mind.
“Now. I understand how awful that car crash must have been for you, losing both your parents.” I felt myself welling up; I never liked talking about my parents in front of people. I would think about them on a daily basis, and write about them in notepads and things like that, but I’ve never been one to express any kind of emotion. I obviously do express emotions, otherwise I would be some kind of robot, I just don’t let people see me. I am quite popular at my care home, and at my school, and I don’t want to ruin that reputation.
Mrs Alan’s sharp voice snapped me back into reality.
“And I also understand the social services could find no other of your living relatives that were willing to take you in. But that’s only because your mother’s sister and her family were living in Australia!” She said to me with a forced smile.
“So?” I said, displeased. “This is just some pointless family who don’t give a shit about me, and even if they did meet me, they would probably want nothing to do with me after they have seen what I’m like.”
“Anne, you don’t understand, they want to adopt you! Not just foster!” she said this with a true smile, as she was probably glad to be rid of me.
“Are you serious?!?” I said, stunned.
“Yes! And you had best get ready, they want to have lunch with you at two, to get to know you.”
