Florin complained that my suitcase was too heavy, I don't think he realised how many things you're required to pack as a foster child, Amelia went through it with me yesterday night. I've had the same suitcase all my life, it's brightly coloured red with many stickers stuck on together forming the shape of a heart at the centre. Olivia helped me make it, I miss her.
The ride to Maria's house is forty minutes long and the whole time I feel nauseas. There's a dry bitter taste in my mouth. In my rear view I can see Amelia constantly turning and peeking at me with her greenly eyes. "You alright, pet?" She says with a high pitch to her voice, I think she may be just as nervous as I am. "Yeah, I'm fine." But at the word fine my voice croaks. "What was that?" "I'm fine."
Maria lives in a small village in Sheffield, according to Walter it's quite nice but has a few off people here and there. I did my own research and a few articles came up about it being known for it's pubs and alcoholics. I'm surprised she didn't move away, you'd think there'd be a lot of trauma there in that house, the place where your children ; the things which are meant to mean the most in the world to you, were taken away. But then again, she wasn't in a good place.
We arrive and I'm close to throwing up as the bitter taste grows into a metallic one. The house is semi detached and the neighbour's garden is widely overgrown with weeds. Our garden is neatly still as if someone recently mowed it of all it's characteristics. "There now doesn't this look nice?" Amelia looms over me. It doesn't. It doesn't look bad either. It look's bland, tired, bored. You wouldn't have thought someone had been living there, not because it was unkept but because there was nothing going on, it had been stripped of any defining character.
Florin carried my suitcase to the door with Amelia and I. "Do you think she'll be nice?" I whisper. I feel a warmness to my arm as Amelia holds it. "She's lovely, I'm sure." I wish she hadn't said the 'I'm sure', bit. I gulp. Amelia knocks loudly.
.
.
.
For a few seconds there's still no movement, I consider running away, it's not like Florin could catch me and Amelia has admittedly never been sporty. Plus, in ten months I can leave anyway, what's the harm in leaving a bit early?
The rustling of the door opening disrupts my thoughts as my heart beat quickens.
YOU ARE READING
Forgive Or Forget
Teen FictionJessica and Jayden are twins yet never knew each other growing up. Constantly separated in different foster homes due to their mum's drinking, they lost contact and lived their teenage years to their own, but both their world's come crumbling down w...
