Lust // John B // Outer banks

Chapter 1

Laila's POV

"Out best option for you is a home in Outer banks, North carolina"

I shook my head in absolute horror. This is a nightmare. I looked my CPS worker in the eyes, feeling tears begin to prick my eyelids.

This can't be happening. I can't be moving. What about my friends? I've lived in New York my entire life, and I planned on keeping it that way. Ever since I lost my mother, I cannot stand changes. Not even small ones. Nosy neighbors are great, aren't they?

See, recently one of my neighbors called the cops on my abusive dad. It's not that I hate my dad, but he's not the greatest of dads. He drinks a bit too much and gets a little too angry, leading to him taking his anger out on me. I still love him though. That's my dad, and now I'm being taken from him and the only home i've ever known. My house is the last thing I have that makes me feel close to my mom.

When I was 8, my mom died of kidney failure, and that's when my dad just completely lost it. Before then my family was pretty much what you could call perfect. My parents had nothing but love for me and my brother. Even me and my brother got along oddly well, despite a 4 year age gap. As soon as my brother turned 18, he left without a word because he was sick of the way my dad treated us.

Sometimes I'm still angry with him for just leaving me like that, but I get it. I just want the best for him, I want him to be safe and well and out of harms way. I try and see things through his eyes and perspective a lot, given that he's 19 and I'm 15. He's like, an old man or something now. Maybe not a wise one, but a good one. As long as he's safe and happy.

So back to the DSS situation, last night my neighbor in the apartment next to mine called the cops because she heard screaming and loads of beating and banging around in my apartment, and the cops showed up and took my dad into custody for child abuse & neglect, along with the possession of illegal substances. The cops took me downtown to the station where I stayed overnight to answer some questions about my dad, and then I was handed off to DSS.

Around 8 this morning my case worker brought me back to my house, and me and her sat down at my kitchen table so she could discuss what was going to happen with me. I've only known her for a few hours and I already hate her. Everything about her. She's got such a righteous attitude and she's acting like she's my mom, when she's not.

"So after talking with my supervisor, you're going to be placed in foster care, our best option for you is a home in Outer banks, North Carolina." She said, placing her clipboard down on the table. I looked up at the ceiling to avoid crying in front of her, but it didn't work and down came the tears.

"North carolina? Where even the fuck is that??" I said, feeling my cheeks heat up in anger. I know that this isn't her fault, but this is so unfair. I can't even do anything about it, I don't have a choice. Whatever happens to me is out of my control and now I'm being taken away to some shitty place out of state. Away from my friends, away from my life.

My case worker ignored my question, and flipped to a new sheet of paper in her notebook on her clipboard. "My supervisor is setting up things with the family who'll be hosting you, and making travel arrangements. Our job is to make this transition as quickly as possible for you. Alright?" She asks. Or you could just let me be. I nod my head, wiping my continuous tears off my face with my sleeve.

"What's next?" I ask her after I finally collect myself. Over the years i've gotten pretty good about fronting and holding everything inside, so I guess that's what I'm gonna do right now. She takes a minute to clear her throat and read an email on her phone, then begins to explain things to me.

"I'm going to need you to gather all of your things, but only necessary things such as clothes, toiletries, personal items, and anything else that isn't major. If you need any extra bags I can provide you with some. I'm going to call my partner to come stay with you while you get your things together so that I can go to the station and work things out with my supervisor so that this operation goes smoothly."

I wince at her words, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this is all happening so quickly. Without another word, I nod and head to my room, praying she doesn't follow. She stays at my table and makes a phone call, while I dig out three duffel bags from under my bed. I go over to my dresser and start to grab everything and stuff it in the bags while the tears flow down my face. At this point I don't even care how neat anything is, I just want to get it over with.

I had a feeling that this would happen at some point, I didn't expect to live with my dad until I was 18. Not with his lifestyle and parenting choices. I grab my favorite fuzzy blue blanket and stuff it on top of all the clothes i put in the first bag, and zip it up. I fit everything that I could in that bag, and I go to my closet and begin tossing my shirts and dresses into the second bag.

At this point i've fit all of my clothes into the two bags, given that my dad doesn't really buy me a lot of clothes and that I don't mind wearing the same outfits. In the second half of the second bag I put some of the friendship bracelets me and my friends have made over the years in it, and some of my notebooks and pens. I take down the polaroid pictures that I have of me and my friends from my wall, and put it inside the bag.

The worst part about this whole thing is the fact that I'm not going to have any way to contact my friends. I had a phone up until last year, because my dad smashed it because he was worried I was going to call the cops on him because it was a rough night. Right now my only way to see my friends is school, and it's a Saturday. This is it. Everything is ruined. What if they think I died? Or abandoned them?

I drag my two bags to the living room of my apartment near the door, at the same time as there's a knock on my door, which startled me slightly. I go to answer it but my case worker beats me to it. This is MY house.

"Laila, I'd like you to meet my partner and supervisor" She says, as a funny looking man and somewhat older looking woman walk into my apartment with smiling faces.

I give them a forced smile and nod at them, while they excuse themselves to my kitchen to talk. I start to feel lightheaded and take a seat on my couch. After a little while they all three come back to where I'm sitting, and my case worker speaks.

"We have everything sorted out, lets head to the station."