The Lost Girl

Chapter One

The air was too cold. It whipped around me tauntingly as I sat alone on an empty bench outside the airport terminal. The social workers told me that London would be beautiful and exciting. They said that my cousin was very sweet and they went on and on about how thrilled she was to take me in. They told me that my parents would have wanted it this way and that they would have been proud of me for being so strong. They said a lot of things with their fake smiles and cheap suits and I didn't believe any of it.

I was sixteen years old and I had spent my whole life in the sunny tropics of southern Florida. I had tons of friends, and a big house that was within walking distance of the beach. I had a good looking boyfriend, and a convertible that my dad had just bought for me. I was happy. Then my parents were hit by a drunk driver on their way home from a party one night. They died on the scene and before I even had a chance to catch my breath I was surrounded by child protective services and law enforcement, all trying to determine where I needed to go. My closest living relative was a second cousin by the name of Laura and her husband Christopher. I had only met Laura once when I was very young and didn't really remember her much. They lived in Bloomsbury, London where Christopher worked at a prestigious publishing house, and Laura was a teacher at a primary school.

The yellow fluorescent light hanging above my head kept flickering on and off and an older coupler couple on the bench across from me kept giggling and touching each other on the hand. I didn't really know what kind of car to look for or how to contact my cousin to be sure she knew where to find me, but I wasn't too worried. I was much more anxious about actually beginning some sort of replacement life in London. I was doing a good job of coping with my parents death only because of how hectic things had been since their accident. Between packing and preparing and arranging my trip to England, there hadn't been any time to grieve. Now that I was sitting still, with nothing more to do than live my life, I could finally feel the empty spot in my life where they had once been.

Bright headlights shone through the fog that had settled around me, and I looked up to see if they were headed in my direction. I squinted my eyes as a small black car with tinted windows pulled up and stopped in front of my bench. The passenger window rolled down to reveal a pretty young woman.

"Abigail?" she asked, smiling nervously. I nodded and smiled back weakly. Her door opened and she rushed to my side to wrap me in a slightly forced hug.

"I'm Laura. Do you remember me?" She held me out at arms length to examine me. I suddenly felt like crying.

"I do." I said. A man appeared beside her.

"This is Christopher." she introduced her husband. He smiled and picked up my duffel bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

"How was your flight?" Christopher asked with worried eyes.

"Long, but fine." I replied. I was fighting desperately to keep my smile from falling, and I could tell he had noticed. No more questions were asked as Christopher grabbed the handle of my rolling suitcase then pulled it over to the trunk of their car. Laura took my hand and led me to the passenger side where she opened the back door for me. I slid in and let her shut the door behind me. I heard their muffled voices through the open trunk behind me and shut my eyes to try and drown out the worry and anxiousness that was floating in with their words.

When I opened them again, Laura and Christopher were seated in front of me and the car was moving slowly through the misty evening streets. I didn't look out the window as we drove. My eyes were fixed on my feet and the way they bounced each time the car hit mis-paved cobblestones on the road. I wanted to go back home. I wanted to see my parents again. I wanted my life back. As the heavy silence in the car surrounded and suffocated me, I let my tears fall. The young married couple in front of me didn't want to raise a sixteen year old girl. They didn't want me, and I didn't blame them. I didn't want them either.