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Present day

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Josh groaned as he rolled over in bed, slapping his hand onto the alarm clock dramatically until it finally shut up. He shoved his head into the pillow, praying under his breath for just 5 more minutes of sleep. His prayers went unanswered, as the next thing he knew someone was shouting through the door for him to get ready.

He sat up in bed, looking around his new bedroom. It was a sad little room; with plain white walls and a plain beige carpet that needed a good clean. He wondered how long he would stay in this care home before his social worker inevitably moved him on to a different one.

If you hadn't guessed already, Josh was an orphan. His parents died 8 years ago in a car crash when he was only 9. Now he was 17, and bouncing between care homes and foster placements like he was in a pinball machine. He hated being in care; he hated the way people treated him like a special snowflake just because his parents were dead. He hated the fact that he was always the new kid in school due to him moving around so much.

He looked over at the closet where his new schools uniform hung neatly for him. It consisted of the classic school black trousers and white shirt, alongside a grey slip over and black blazer to go on top. He rolled his eyes at the stupid uniform, already despising it.

He practically flung himself out of bed and made his way straight to the shared bathroom. Thankfully everyone else in the home was downstairs having breakfast at the minute so he had the bathroom all to himself. He quickly showered before brushing his teeth and washing his face in the sink. He looked down at his phone, seeing that he only had 10 minutes to get ready before his social worker was coming to drive him to school.

Shit.

He rushed out the bathroom in only a towel and ran to his room, chucking on some boxers and socks. He sprayed some deodorant on before pulling on his trousers and shirt. He threw on the rest of his clothes and hooked his red and black tie around his neck loosely before rushing over to pick up his dirt stained backpack from off the floor.

He heard the front door open downstairs before the familiar sound of his social workers squeaky voice emitted through the whole care home. That's one thing Josh had always despised about his social worker; her overly loud and high pitched voice. When he was younger he use to cringe every time she opened her mouth, but as time went on he learnt how to block out everything she says.

He ran his hands through his messy hair one last time before slamming his bedroom door behind him and going down stairs. Just as he had expected, his social worker Jane was stood there waiting for him with a tight lipped smile on her face. Josh had known Jane long enough to know that smile meant "don't fuck up this placement like all the others or I will kill you". Josh rolled his eyes mentally.

He silently pushed past Jane, purposely knocking his shoulder into hers as he went past. She followed behind him equally as silently as they made their way to her car; a shitty mustard yellow thing that could be mistaken for a heap of scrap metal if you didn't look twice. Josh opened up the passenger seat and threw in his backpack lazily before getting in himself. He put his feet up on the dashboard, knowing it would piss Jane off.

They drove to the school in silence, not even putting on the radio. Jane hated the radio, it was full of songs that romanticised meaningless sex and drugs which were both things Jane was strongly against. She was strongly convinced that the only way anyone should ever live their life was by the word of the bible, something that annoyed Josh to his wits ends.

Josh looked out the window as they drove, taking note of the unfamiliar neighbourhood that they found themselves in. The place was nice and green, you could almost smell the middle class privilege in the air. They pulled up outside a posh looking school made completely out of brick surrounded by a metal gate. It was completely different to Josh's last school, which was covered in graffiti and crawling with chavs and chain smokers.

stabbing in the dark ~fransykes~Where stories live. Discover now