Saving Her

~> 05 <~

After my dramatic departure, I stormed back to the school, cursing Maria for getting to me. Again. I've been in foster homes where my foster siblings had similar attitudes to Maria, but they never really got to me. It's because I actually like Amy, Jason, and the others. I know that I'd have to tell them about my past eventually, but I wanted to be the one giving them the truth, not Maria or anyone else who for some reason knows about me.

Then comes the deal about the necklace. When I showed up at my first home, I was only around two months old. They told me that I had on thin, dirty clothes and wasn't wrapped in a blanket or even placed in a basket, like in the movies. They simply left me on the front steps of the social service office and left.

When my social worker, William Castello, found me, he said that the necklace had a piece of paper inside with the name "Scarlett" scribbled in messy cursive. So, I was named Scarlett and given a last name from the service.

Most people would have despised having a piece of their life before the foster system, but I have a connection with my necklace that I can't seem to shake. On the back, it's engraved with:

Le soleil, la lune, mon amour.

I learned that it translates to "the sun, the moon, my love," whatever that means. I'm guessing that someone gave it to my birth mother to express their love. Maybe it wasn't my birth dad who gave her that necklace, and when he found out that she was seeing someone else and that I wasn't his, he kicked her out to the streets.

I continue to imagine hundreds of scenario throughout Photography and Study Hall, even when I was walking to the Fransmen's house. I would never ask for a ride from Maria, not even if it was a zombie apocalypse and her car was the only safe haven. She, and I kid you not, drives a Volkswagen bug that's pink.

It's about a fifteen minute walk from school to their house, so arrive there in no time, recognizing the Barbie-Mobile parked in the driveway. I quietly enter the house and drop my bag and shoes off by the door.

To describe the Fransmen house, it's bland. White walls, white marble floors. (which I had no doubt cost a fortune) Even in their family portraits they're wearing white. It blinded me for five seconds when I first walked through the door.

I go up to my converted guest suite, which, you guessed it, is completely white, right down to the chains on the ceiling fan.

I make sure to lock the door before stripping out of my clothes and change into a sports bra, loose muscle tank, a light jacket, running pants, and my fancy running shoes that I got last Christmas. I tie my hair up and remove my makeup before grabbing my phone and headphones and jogging down the stairs.

Just as I passed the living room, I heard collective laughter which made me backpedal and peek my head into the room.

There was Maria and her little cronies, including those guys who sat with them at lunch. As I swept my eyes across the room, saw Maria and few others gathered around her laptop, a couple making out on the couch, (remind me to sterilize it later) and the devil, Blake Hills, handing out surely illegal bottles of alcohol to others. When he saw me standing there, he smirked and raised a bottle as if he was offering me one. I glare which makes him chuckle a bit before shrugging and hand the bottle to a blonde bimbo who winked at him and basically shoved her chest in his face.

I heard familiar song play from the IHome in the corner, which had my IPod plugged into it. I had been looking for that since the day after I moved in. I stomp over to the device and unplug it, earning me many groans and glares. I simply cross my arms and give Maria an unamused look.

"I've been looking for this. Do you happen to know where my sunglasses are as well?" For my seventeenth birthday, William gave me a nice pair of Ray Bans, along with my headphones I was using.