Living With The Johnsons

Chap. 1

Let me introduce myself. I am Abby Hayes. 15 years old, and an orphan. I have long, brown hair. My eyes are green. Freckles lightly sweep my cheeks. My lips are full, and pink.

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"Have fun, brat." My care-taker told me. I shot her a dirty look and walked out of the old, beaten up foster home. I was going to my new family's house. The Johnsons. My care taker is abusive, so of course she's making me ride my bike through 2 cities, to the Johnsons' house.

I wonder if the Johnsons' house is big. Maybe it's small. I really do not care about the size of their household, I just want someone to treat me right and to care. I took my one small suitcase and hung it on to one of my bike pegs. I then got rope out of the small tool shed, and secured my suitcase to the pegs.

This is risky, but I am one who takes risks. I hopped on to my bike, taking stolen goods out of my pocket. Once in a while I steal from my local drugstore. You might think I'm a deliquent and I do this for fun, but I do not. Everyday I struggle to be fed, so I steal snacks from the drugstore.

I also steal little candies. I put all of my goodies inside my brown, woven basket attatched to the front of my bike. I had to make some stops along the way before I got to the Johnsons house. I rode off, hearing my the wheels of my suitcase scrape the sidewalk behind me. My first stop, the drugstore.

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It was nightime now. Here I was, behind a gas station, counting my loot. I took a gold-wrappered Whoopie Bar out of my basket. It was a sort of like a sandwhich. The outside layer, velvety, thick fudge, while the inside had delicous cream.

I adjusted flashlights that I stringed onto the front and back of my bike. I went to all different stores today, including Hardware Hut, where I got things like flashlights and rope. I had to make sure that my bike had everything I needed. No, I don't want to make my bike look pretty. I need these things to survive.

Yes, to survive. I decided not to live with the Johnsons. Why? Because I'm scared. I'm scared they will be like every other family. Every other family who doesn't care, and who treats me like crap.

Tonight, I'll sleep in the woods. Up in a tree. I got a hammock from The Hardware Hub. I know quite a bit about how to survive alone in the wilderness, and how to build things. That explains how I built a big seat that opens on my bike.

The seat is big because when you open it there is a lot of room for things I steal. Currently I have a big flashlight, a hammock, a little knife, rope, extra food and water, wood, and some tools inside my seat/storage compartment.

I turned my front flashlights on and my back flashlights on. I put all the food and drinks that were in my basket, inside my storage compartment. I closed it, and hooked it tight. It was going to be a bumpy ride to the forest.

I walked around my bike and checked to see if everything was in place. I tightened the rope around my suitcase, my flashlights, and my seat.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming to the back of the gas station, where I am. I turned off all of my flashlights. I peddaled toward the side exit, where no one was coming.

It turned out there was another person there, followed by a group of people. I tried to go, but I couldn't. I was blocked. I turned on my flashlights to see who they were.

"Hi. We're the Johnson family. You must be Abby." A nice woman greeted me with a wide smile. "Oh." I said quietly. "C'mon. We're going to take you home. You can explain to us what happened when we get home." The woman said with a smile.

I followed them to their car. My mind was racing. What am I going to do with myself?