Going into first person now, it might be easier to write. This might seemed rushed to start with, but I want to get the story started. The chapters will get better. I don't really know much about foster kids or adoption records so I doubt it's that realistic. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Chapter 2: Truth
The woods stayed the same, no glowing eyes peeping through the holes of bushes, or shadows appearing and disappearing. No matter how long I looked at it from the window of my hospital room, it stayed the same. Almost like I imagined it. But I couldn't have, the bite mark on my side proves that.
Thinking about it, I prod it in an experiment to see how much it hurts. I can't even give it a zero. It's strange, it was only just last night it happened. Surely it'll still be sore. Shaking my head, I walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
In the mirror I'm startled by my reflection, a pale face with dark shadows under my eyes. Then my hair, what a mess it was in. Even in the hospital nightgown you could see how thin I was. The body of a runaway girl.
I turned on the shower, jumping back from the loud gush of the water. Confused, I turned it off before turning it back on again. It was quieter the second time, only appearing louder once I had stripped down and jumped in.
The bandage that covered my bite grew soggy and heavy, a reminder of what had happened to me. I didn't want to think about it, didn't want to agree with myself to what I saw. It wasn't normal, it wasn't right. It was asking for a spot in a mental hospital.
The kind nurse Melissa had left me an extra nightgown in the bathroom. I knew she had rang social services, that my time of running had come to an end. They would return me to my family, I was more afraid of them then the monster that attacked me.
I couldn't even leave my hospital room, the place was being watched by security and the hospital staff. They had put that in place the last time I tried to escape. Now I was stuck, awaiting for hell to come take me again.
After my shower, I dried myself of, using the headband Melissa gave me to tie my hair back from my face. Then I sat on my bed, bringing my knees up to my chest as I waited for them to come.
They would defiantly kill me, punish me. I had been grateful for them for taking me in when I was six, but I knew that wasn't what a family was supposed to be. No father hits their children or step-mother verbally abuses you. My dad and mom had welcomed me with open arms when the social worker dropped me of, to only change when my mom died.
"Carla?" Melissa opened the door, carrying a tray. "I brought you some lunch."
"Thank you," I smiled a little.
I watched as she set it down on the table, rolling it over to my bed for me to eat. She didn't leave, she sat down on the edge of my bed. "I have good news."
"You do?" I asked, not believing it.
"You won't be going back to your family," she promised. "Social services will be taking you to a new foster family."
"They will be?" My voice squeaked.
Melissa nodded, smiling. "You won't have to worry about them anymore, they've been arrested."
I took a deep breath, picking up my sandwich with a shaky hand. They told me if I went to the police then I would be taking away parents from their children. Their two little girls and boy. I couldn't do that to them, not have their parents leave them like mine had left me. It wasn't their fault, it was mine. Their parents treated them like the moon and the stars, I was just another story. Nobody wanted me, not even my parents.
"Could I take a look at your bite?" Melissa questioned, seeing how I didn't want to talk about my family anymore. A new foster home would be better than being on the run, a thousand times better than going back to them.
"Sure," I shrugged, picking up another sandwich to eat as Melissa came to crouch down near my side. I arched to the side a little, giving her more space as she peeled the large bandage away. She bit her lip.
"What is it?" I asked anxiously.
"Nothing," she said. "It's healing well."
I watched as she put the bandage back on, standing up. She was looking more anxious than I was.
"I'll be back in a second," Melissa said, stopping at the door, turning to say, "Oh, the sheriff and social worker are currently looking for your files. Were you aware that they went missing?"
"No," I said. "They redid my birth certificate and everything when they found me at six. My mom was a social worker, she took care of it all when she found me."
Melissa looked confused. "Alright, I'll be back in a second."
I watched her leave, wondering what was happening outside the door to include the sheriff. They had already questioned me about the attack, but now they acted like I wasn't existing in files and paperwork.
I thought about my new foster family, the chances of them turning me in when they realised I wasn't worth it. Six years my real family had lasted before leaving me, three years at my adoptive family until my mom died and then six years with my dad, who blamed mom's death on me, and then his new wife. Everything went bad at some point.
More than anything I was afraid of being somewhere else. To start new when I knew things would just end up going bad. That's why it's better for me to be by myself, on the run, I won't hurt anyone or ruin people's lives.
"Okay, Carla," Melissa came back in, looking stressed more than anything. "I need to show you something, but I don't want you to freak out. Okay?"
"What is it?" I asked.
Melissa bit her lip, putting down my adoption certificate with a picture of me at six on. I raised my eyebrows, not sure what I was supposed to not be freaking out about. Then she put down another birth certificate of another Carla, followed by a picture. Both little girls was me, you could clearly see it. Everything about them was the same, the only difference in the clothes.
I stared at them, not sure what to make out of the Carla Tate girl and myself. Clearly, it was obvious to what Melissa was wanting me to not freak out about. I clenched my fists, nails digging in. My eyes flickered between the two pictures, eyes blurring with tears.
"I don't understand," I whispered.
Melissa sat down on the bed, taking my hand as she squeezed it reassuringly. "Carla Tate was assumed dead when she was six years old in a, uh, car crash with your mother and sister. It was reported your bodies were dragged away by coyotes."
"They found me in the woods at six," I whispered, tears leaking from my eyes. "They said my family had left me."
"Your biological dad is alive," Melissa said. "And so is your sister, they found her not too long ago."
"I'm not going to a foster family?"
"That's up to you," she said. "They're here now, waiting outside."
I looked at the picture, of the little girl who had a family that hadn't abandoned her. She was smiling, happy, clutching a doll in her arms. I could have that family again, they were waiting outside for me. Was it too good to be true, though? It didn't seem believable, but the evidence was right there.
"C-can I see them?" I asked.
Melissa smiled, pulling out another picture that looked recently taken. A man with slightly greying hair stood next to a teenage girl. She was smiling, pearly white teeth with hazel, brown eyes. Her hair was brown with hints of blonder, her skin slightly tanned. It seemed a little awkward between them.
"Your sister is Malia," Melissa told her. "Then your dad is Henry."
I nodded my head, staring at the picture as I made my mind up. It seemed to be a fairy-tale ending, the reality not quite shown yet. I knew something would go wrong, something would happen. But for a moment in my life I could possibly belong somewhere, to be a part of a family that loved me like my mom had.
"I want to meet them," I spoke quickly before I could change my mind.
She nodded her head, leaving the room again to collect them. I chewed on my thumbnail, soothing my hair and nightgown in nerves. Footsteps appeared outside the room, seeming further down then I thought. Voices appeared, nervous and quiet. I sucked in a deep breath as the door opened again.
They both entered the room, freezing in the spot as they saw me. I looked between them both, seeing Henry's heartbroken, sad face and Malia stared at me with wide eyes like she couldn't believe I was here.
"I'll be right outside," Melissa told me as I nodded my head.
A silence passed over the room as I sat waiting for them to say something, to move. I couldn't imagine what they were going through, having thought I was dead, but it was making me uncomfortable.
"Uh," I grunted out. "Hi."
"I heard you tried to outrun the hospital staff," Malia said after another moment of silence. "You almost made it to the entrance. That's pretty impressive for… an injured person."
"Thanks?" I questioned.
"Are you feeling alright?" Henry asked.
"I'm fine now," I told him. "Melissa said it's healing well."
They nodded their heads, the silence creeping amongst us again. I pressed my lips together, looking between them both.
"I, um, still live in the same house," he started saying. "You don't remember?"
I shook my head, not wanting to tell him that I believed he had left me in the woods alone.
"It only has two bedrooms," he carried on. "I'd happily sleep of the couch if you don't want to share with Malia."
This was it. It was an either 'yes, I'll live with you' or a 'no, sorry, I'll only screw you up'. "Sharing a room is fine."
"I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Malia argued. "I'll sleep in the garden."
My lips twitched with a smile, but I kept my face blank. "I'd sleep on the couch if you want me to."
"We'll share a room then," Malia stated.
"If your sharing then I want no arguing," Henry laughed awkwardly, his eyes gleaming with tears that I knew he was trying to hold back.
I looked between them both, seeing how they were still learning how to interact around each other and now I had come in, needing to learn with them. We were all new at this family again, which was reassuring, it gave me a little hope that maybe things could work out.
I hope you liked it. Please do review x
