Hey,
This is my second fan fiction so please bare with me if its not the best story. I've been working really hard on this but if you have any feedback on how to make it better please review or PM me, I'd be really grateful!
READ!READ!READ! - This story has nothing to do with Freeing Phoebe. Nothing at all. Just to let you know. Also Xav is seventeen in this but everyone else is the same age just in case you get confused.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Joss Stirling's characters :)
Georgia,X
Bored, bored, bored, borededy bored. Long flights tend to do this to me. Make me bored that is. My iPod is out of charge (Died whilst i was playing candy crush and i was about to clear the last pieces of jelly as well when it just decided to ahead and die), i have just finished the end of my book (Torment, the second book in the fallen series and i must say it was a horrible ending and i haven't even brought book three with me either so I'm going to have to find that in a library are libraries in America right? I hope so) and i have ran out of sweets (Mint imperials. Number one sweet to have with you on a plane. They seriously help when taking off because they don't make my ears pop like most people's do).
And i still have two hours left till we land in Colorado. What could possibly make this any worse? Well i suppose we could crash in the middle of the sea and i could be the only one without a life jacket or some terrorist could drug the pilot and then take over the plane and drive us into another famous building or monument, like the twin towers, but i don't really want to go down that path right now.
So here i am, sat between the worlds two stinkiest people, mumbling about how pathetic plane prices are. Seriously though, it's like three quid for a mars bar! Not even a duo mars bar either just a regular bar! I think I'm going to sue the plane. Can you sue a plane because of plane prices? Ugh, planes, all together, just mess with my head. I leant back and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the giant woman next to me trying to comfort her screaming child.
That's another thing that annoys me. Babies crying. They just don't stop. I don't know how their parents cope. They are hardly ever awake and even when they are, they just open there eyes long enough to have a massive shit and then fall back to sleep again. Cry, sleep and poo, that's all babies do. Ha that rhymed.
Anyway, if i had a child I'd want desperately just to snap my fingers and they would transform into a toddler and completely ignore the first six or seven months of their lives. But I couldn't do that because its harsh. I have seen thousands of babies less than seven months in my foster homes and they get treated like shit. If i had a child (Not that i would want to at my age) i would make sure to treat it like an absolute angel. I'd make sure it had the best life any child could ever had. An if that meant putting up with the wailing, sleeping and the pooping then so be it.
Anyway back to the introduction side of things, my name is Cameron Taylor but people call me Cami. Well, my friends used to. The key word there is used. See, i used to live in London's finest foster home (Survived a year and a half there), then before that i lived in Newcastle's finest foster home ( Three years- longest I've ever stayed in one place), then Liverpool (Six months), Bristol ( Nine months), Birmingham (Two weeks- Record time), etc... I've been in them all and kicked out of everyone of them. That's why I'm on this plane now because i got kicked out. I do it on purpose. I hate staying in foster homes, no one ever fosters me so i don't see the point in staying in a home where the whole point is to get fostered. Its been fourteen years and i haven't been fostered. I'm seventeen years old now and I'm not allowed my own apartment. It's stupid really. So, i might of 'accidentally' set the kitchen on fire whilst cooking bacon and eggs, i didn't think they would go as far as shipping me off to America, i thought they would finally get the gist of things and let me live on my own. But no. I guess Britain has just had enough of Cameron Taylor.
By the time we landed in Colorado, i was ready to commit suicide. Literally. No joke. Those last two hours were spent with me lazily planning out my weekend, considering its Friday i was hoping I'd fit at least one party in. I didn't really get any further past four o'clock in the afternoon on my planned timetable due to the snoring of the woman and baby on one side of me and the snoring man on my left. That was probably the best half an hour on the plane though because i stole the man's iPad and started to play temple run. I only got to 250m before i passed his high score. Ha pathetic.
Anyway, my fun was ended when the man woke up and started screaming at me which then woke the baby up who started wailing and then the baby woke the mother up. So we were all arguing with each other until the flight attendant had to come and break it up. I found it pretty amusing.
Meanwhile, I was quickly hurrying my way through passport control and grabbing my luggage off the little conveyer belt thingie (which i am really tempted to sit on and go round and round in circles) before running out the airport and hopping in a cab. I don't know why i was so eager to leave the airport, I've never been eager to get to a foster home before. Yet i found myself drumming my fingers against the dash board and tapping my feet impatiently as we made our way down unfamiliar streets. Something about this place made it feel different. Like i shouldn't really be messing up my chances at staying here. Like this was the place where i was meant to be. I shook my head fast trying to get rid of all the weird thoughts passing through my mind. Maybe it was just America that was making me think like this.
My next mission is Wrickenbridge foster home. I have always wanted to see America, i wonder, once i get kicked out of this one, where they will send me next. I hope it's somewhere boiling hot, not that it isn't hot here, its just i really need to top up on my tan and Wrickenbridge isn't the best place to do it. My olive skin is getting paler everyday. Which i officially hate. So my next aim is a foster home in a nice sunny state.
The cab driver didn't take that long and sooner than expected i was dropped off outside the tall building and the driver sped off without even giving me my change. The cheek. I made my way up the steps and knocked on the massive wooden door. I have to say, this is in better condition than any of the places in Britain I've stayed in. The outside was coated in a lovely snow white paint and not a speck of it was chipped or dirty. The wooden door was glossy not rotting and the flowers hanging in the basket above my head, where alive and colourful not dead and brown. The door swung open then causing my head to snap back towards the doorway. There was a women standing there, about thirty/forty, with a cheery grin on her slightly wrinkled face.
"You must be Cameron, I'm Laura. I'm the person who owns this place. Come in dear, come in." She said, her voice just as cheery as her smile. The kind of person that really gets on my nerves. I pushed past her and into the main hall.
"Where's my room?" I drawled. Her smile faltered at my harsh tone.
"I'll show you, are you sure you..." She trailed of when I scowled at her. "Ill show you your room then" She said wearily, all her traces of cheeriness gone, glancing at another member of the staff, who i assume was standing in the entrance to the staff room.
"I'm Suzie!" She called. I just rolled my eyes in her direction and she frowned too. Ha i just love making good first impressions. I marched up the stairs behind Laura, rolling my eyes again every time she glanced at me out the corner of her eye. We reached the room directly opposite of the grand staircase and i pushed open the door to reveal an average sized room.
"Here you go dear" She muttered. I didn't reply and after a while i heard her mutter something under her breath and then she left me alone, probably going to moan to Suzie and the other staff about how the new kid was going to be a difficult one. Thats what they usually do anyway.
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