the tattoos

☀︎︎Part 1☀︎︎

Elodie walked out of her school with a smirk on her face; her first week at her new school went amazing. Since walking home all week, she found a nice calming way home through the community park. She made her way towards the entrance of the park, the untied laces of her pastel blue vans dragging behind her, and was greeted by the happy sight of an ice-cream truck. She bought herself a sherbet-covered vanilla ice cream and sat down on the swings. She pulled up her favourite playlist on Spotify and scrolled through 459 songs, and pressed play on 'Worst' by Waterparks.
She sat and watched the children playing and tumbling to the ground, then crying for their mothers. 'I wish I could've had a childhood like that' she thought to herself.
Elodie had spent the majority of her life moving from foster home to foster home, never living in one place for more than 2 years at a time. Since her parents died, she had lived in 8 different group homes, and had 6 different sets of foster parents, all of which never adopted her.
Hours passed as she swung on the swings listening to her music and focusing on the cherry blossoms falling. When she finally became aware of her surroundings again, the sun was setting and it was almost curfew for her new group home.
She sped towards the exit of the park, and when she reached the street, it turned into a slight jog. Although this was a part of town she had never seen before, she couldn't risk getting a strike on her system again for missing curfew, so her eyes were focused on where she was going and not her beautiful surroundings. As she turned a corner, she tripped on her untied laces. She fell to the ground, but never hit the floor.