𝐈 | subway surfer

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FOSTER CHILD | ACT ONE
scene one: subway surfer

┌───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────┐FOSTER CHILD | ACT ONEscene one: subway surfer

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NEW YORK, New York.

What was there to hate about it? Buildings soared there and many people toured there. Squirrels ran around Central Park while rats ran through subway stations. Street performers performed in a mass pool of sweaty people as others rode in carriages around Central Park. The streets were busy, especially Times Square. But that particular morning, someone was busier than most.

Fourteen-year-old, Isla Foster, former New Yorker found herself moving back to the very first foster home she had been placed in. It felt weird, to say the least, looking at the townhouse instead of looking up at it. That she had physically grown so much since she had left this wondrous place she once called home all those years ago and here she stood, ready to call this place home all over.

She wondered if Pierre Benson who has picked his nose and ate it still lived there or if the Doyle twins still managed to cause havoc along with Wendy Leeson. She was glad that Justin the grumpy teenager was gone seeming as he was nearing his eighteenth birthday when she has whisked away from the home. Yusef and Gianna were probably gone too, most likely living together at the moment and starting a family, or not. She wasn't exactly sure since the two of them fell out with each other every other week. But most importantly, she wondered if her best friend and fellow roommate, Amaya Gomez had still lived there.

If she were, to be honest, she didn't think Amaya would even recognise her, let alone consider her a friend. The last time she had seen her, Amaya was just about to turn eight before they were ripped apart from each other by the wicked man Isla had ever had the misfortune of calling him, uncle.

She sighed as her social worker placed her hand on Isla's shoulder, smiling at her reassuringly. "Are you ready to go in? To start a new adventure?"

Isla didn't hesitate to return the gesture, holding onto her bag tighter as she continued to look towards the house. "Yeah...I think I am."

She made a run for it, her legs flying in the other direction.

Isla continued running, dodging the general public as she ignored the pleas from her social worker to come back.

Yes, Isla genuinely did want to see how her old friends at the foster home were doing after all these years but that seemed like more of a second-hand problem to her at the moment.

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