Ok, well, this is my first published fic, about Maureen and Joanne, now foster parents, caring for their first kid. Enjoy, R&R PLEASE!
"CAN YOU BELIEVE WE'RE ACTUALLY DOING THIS?!?!?!" screamed Maureen, freaking out as usual.
"Calm down", giggled Joanne, who was as equally excited herself. "I'm pretty sure our whole building can hear you!"
Maureen Johnson, an aspiring performance artist and girlfriend of Joanne Jefferson, lawyer, lived together in Alphabet City, experiencing the fully amazing bohemian lifestyle. They were so different, yet they made the best couple. Maureen was impulsive and easily excitable, Joanne was more calm and rational. Recently, they had decided to take a bold step into the world of foster parenting, and their first foster child would be moving into their apartment in… Joanne looked at her watch. Five minutes.
"I'm nervous." Joanne said quietly. "The kid's had a tough life. What if it's turned her into some kind of monster?"
Maureen stared at Joanne like she had two heads. "She's a nine-year-old girl!" Maureen said dryly. "I bet she very sweet and innocent. And remember, if it doesn't work out, we'll only have her for four months!"
Joanne wasn't completely reassured, so she tried to see things from this kids point of view.
The girl they were taking in had had a tough life. She had lived in a ramshackle apartment her whole life, and she was always sick and never had the money for almost anything. Her father was insane and killed her mother when she was only five years old, and he continued to abuse her until he died last year of a drug overdose. The poor girl had been bouncing around from family to family for the past year and a half, never finding a nice life.
The ring of a doorbell interrupted Joanne's train of thought. "I'll get it!!!" squealed Maureen with ecstasy.
Maureen opened the door to find a large black man with a buzz cut, wearing a suit and carrying a brown briefcase. At his side was a young, short girl with a round, pale face and wide blue eyes. She had red curls that surrounded her face, and she wore white jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that read "NYC" across the front.
"Hello, I'm Mr. Williams of the department of Orphans and Foster Care (A/N: I don't care if that's not what it's called, I couldn't find a real name. If anyone knows, please tell me!) He motioned to the young girl at his side. "And this is Sam" he then added "Your new foster child."
So what did ya think? R&R please! I welcome criticism as well, as long as you tell me what to fix. But I also enjoy compliments more! Ugh, I'm rambling, sorry. So R&R!
