That Little Thing Called Daydream Book 1

Chapter 7: So, That's Your Story! (Friday)

Chapter 7: So, That's Your Story! (Friday)

"I need you to pick up my suit for me sweetie. I'd do it myself but I have to get to work. We have a very important deadline to make."

"Mommy, why do I have to do it. Can't you send Onyx or Topaz. They never do anything," I whine.

"No, Onyx is entertaining his friends and Topaz, well, Topaz is Topaz. If I left her to do it, it'd be bedazzled or cut and trimmed," Mom says picking up her sketchbook and folders then heading out to the car.

I follow her and try to change her mind but she just kisses me on the forehead, side hugs me then closes the door in my face. So I paste my face and hands against the back door window watching my mom drive away.

"Why," I whisper to myself. To be honest I was just looking for an excuse not to leave the house today. It was 3 days since that Senya girl made that threat against me and I have to say I was a bit scared. That girl seems dangerous. I thought about just tossing the necklace, giving it to the police or giving it back to that little boy; but she'd kill me if I toss it, the police would laugh at my story or think I was a prankster and I had no idea where to find the kid. I was stuck.

"What'chu doing?" asks my little sister Topaz.

"Nothing. Hey would you want make a trip to the dry cleaners. Mommy says - "

"For you to do it," Topaz cuts me off as she heads for the fridge.

"Come on, please," I beg.

"No, I'm busy today."

"Busy doing what? Today was your last day of school."

"Exactly. Now I have more time to work on my project," she says taking her sandwich to the dining room table.

I scowl at her behind her back then Onyx walks by with his two geeky friends.

"Hey, would you - "

"No," Onyx says.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"Don't care I'm busy," he says walking away with juice boxes for his friends.

I yell, "oh that's how you feel. Well I'll remember that when you become a teenager and you want to sneak out of the house."

He yells back, "you won't be here anyways."

He was right I won't because I'll be in college.

I gave up then went up to my room, grab my purse and left.

I was very paranoid and suspicious. I was keeping high alert about my surroundings and when I finally arrive at the dry cleaners, I grab my mothers suit and as I walk out the store I saw him. The little boy across the street walking into a building, "A Second Chance Foster Home" to be exact. That's what the name above the store read.

So I grid out to him.

"Hey, hey kid."

He turns around and when he saw me he books it into the building.

I gasp then march after him but not before almost getting hit by a car. 

"Sorry, sorry."

"Dumb kid," says an old man in the car.

I continue running across the street dangling my moms freshly dry-cleaned clothes in the air trying to prevent it from touching the ground. I must of looked absolutely insane to bystanders.

I open the doors and saw no sight of him. I wander my eyes all across the lobby and their is absolutely no sign of him at all. It only took me another second but then I noticed something unusual about this supposed foster home. It was beautiful, it is very nice in the lobby. The tiles on the floors appears to be brand spanking new and every few of them has engravings of quotes or pictures on them. The curtains look like grand curtains you see in a rich home. They were tied to the sides of the windows with a elegant golden rope. The design of the furniture and the reception desk has a circular and curved feel. Nothing was pointy or angled. I thought this is not what I was expecting a foster home to look like. The government must think these kids are it, the future to everything.