Per. Severe

Meeting

I sat alone in the backseat of the car that was taking me to my next foster home. I'd been in fifteen already, and it had been less than a year since my mom died. Was I really such an awful person?

The car came to a stop and the social worker got out. A pudgy old lady stood on the porch with a scrawny boy.

I was let out. I dragged my plastic garbage bag that held all of my things behind me. The social worker and the old lady talked for a while before the social worker left. The old lady introduced herself as "Nana Lilly" and to always call her that. Then she told me I would be sharing a room with the boy, who she told me was named Gabriel.

I put away the few things I had on the side of the room that had next to nothing. Gabriel sat on his bed, watching me with pretty purple eyes.

Gabriel had darker skin, but not very dark. He looked a lot like the woman from Argentina that was the first to foster me. He had curly black hair and loose clothes.

"..What happened to your parents?" He broke the silence.

I sat down on my bed. "I don't.. really know," I admitted.

"Mine were killed," Gabriel said softly. Then he looked at me again, interest in his purple eyes. "Nana Lilly told you my name. What's yours?"

"Persephone," I replied. "It's like a god or something from ancient people."

"Cool."

"Yeah. I guess."

I've never felt like a god. Just a useless hunk of garbage.