The Run ©2014 Sydney Wray

Chapter 2

Growing up without a mom or dad was incredibly hard. Through kindergarten to second grade, it was strange overseeing my friends squeal and run to their parents after a long day of work. They hugged them tightly and asked how their day was.

 I watched with my big, brown eyes and always wondered when this would happen for me.

I was naive and of course a child. When I reached second grade I stopped wishing for a mom and dad for Christmas; I stopped thinking when they would come in and rescue me from horrid foster homes-which always seemed foreign and uncomfortable.

Confusing, above all.

Oh yeah, I knew what happened to them. I finally understand from an adults perspective. I just chose not to wander over those topics.

Lavender was my best friend. Crazy enough, we were serious enemies since the day we met. I remember how much she made me angry, and I laugh at the little things that can make you dislike someone at such a young age. Same thing goes for when you like someone.

She stole the blocks I was playing with.

I promised myself I would hate her forever. One day, we were all out on the playground, and me, being the the most self-productive person ever, was playing by myself in the sand pit. Teachers always tried to get me to make friends, thought I was a lonesome cause or something, but the truth was; I was just a kid who would like to stick to her own things. And I guess the foster care made me that way.

As I tried to prefect the sand castle I had prepped for ten minutes, Lavender skipped over, her perfect curly hair swaying.

She just stood there, watching me. It made me angry for some reason.

"What do you want?"

"You're not doing that right." She said loosely.

I frowned. "Yes, I am."

"Here let me help." Lavender crouched down, and started to pat the sand down.

I shoved her away. "Stop!" Doing so, the sand bucket in my hand flew out of my small grasp, and into another boy. He started to cry immediately.

He had always been a woose. Still was.

Lavender started to laugh and I joined in. It was something we had in common, because it's always funny when people fall.

First grade started and we became inseparable. Second, we were always getting reprimanded for giggling and talking. You can imagine how middle school went. Everything seemed funny, even our science teachers weird pants.

But I guess we had made the mistake of pointing, because we were sent to the principles office. Lunch detention.

The thing was, though, we did and scored everything together. Counting up to high school, we were both petrified of the 'big kids.' But it turned out okay, because I had Lavender. She knew about my foster care, but never understood why she wasn't able to come over to my house in third grade. I didn't understand either. In my house, it wasn't aloud.

But it was once we were older. Hellen had made one exception. Lavender helped me grow up in the foster buisness; she just made it easier.

I thought about those precious memories I had stored and tucked away in my conscience, as my feet slapped along the pavement to Lavenders house. I had no idea what to do; I was alone, and had no one but her. My levels of stress were high.

Lavender had her own apartment, in Brooklyn of New York City. I loved coming there, but this time was necessary.

I made my way up the cement flights of stairs, and easily found room 144.