prologue
"I know it all looks big and scary now, but you´ll get settled in soon, and then you´ll make loads of new friends." My social worker Elaine, said when we arrived at Elm tree House.
I didn´t listen to her, I just lifted my bags, from the back seat of the car and started walking towards the big house in front of me. And I opened the door. The first person I saw after I had stepped into the hose was a red-haired girl.
"Hi." She said. "I´m Jackie. Who are you?"
"I´m Lexy," I answered
"And I´m Crash." A dark boy, who looked like he was like thirteen years old said.
"Hi, you must be Lexy," a man in the middle-ages came towards me and shook my hand. "I´m Mike, head care worker."
"She´s going to live in Marco´s old room, will she Mike?" Jackie asked. "I can help you with your stuff Lexy."
"Yes she´s going to live in Marco´s old room. Could you show her around later also?"
"Of course I will."
"Show her to the office later, so I can get to talk to her a little."
"Alright."
Jackie and Crash showed me to my room, and we leaved all my stuff there. Then they showed me around, and I got to meet the others. Lol and Tracy, who had moved out, but visited their friends, Rio and his sister Roxy. Rebecca, who was going to move to a half-way house in a few weeks. Wolfie, who had lived in the forest Bouncer who worked in the kitchen. Layla, who had Celebral Palsy, and the little hippie-girl Alice.
"And this is the office" Jackie opened the door."And you´ve already met mike."
"Can you leave us two alone for a while Jackie?" Mike asked. "I want to talk to Lexy."
Jackie nodded and closed the door, and Mike asked me to sit down.
"So… Lexy, tell me a little bit about yourself."
I sighed, I didn´t really wanted to talk about my past. But I understood they would find it out anyway sooner or later. So I took another deep breath and started to tell him.
"My name is Lexy, I´m twelve years old, and I´m here because my dad died of a brain-tumour. Two weeks before he died, I got fully recovered from Leukemia, I thought my aunt was going to take care of me when dad died, but she wouldn´t because she can barely afford to take care of herself, so she called social services, and here I am."
"How long has it been since your dad died?"
I sighed, "one week."