Alright, thanks for all the awesome reviews I received!
Instead of several different funerals, they decided to have one big one all at once. Massie was invited to go, but she refused. She was still in the hospital and was still in shock. One day, a social worker came out to visit Massie.
"How are you doing, Miss Block?" Mrs. Joanna asked, sitting on the edge of Massie's hospital bed.
Massie stared at Mrs. Joanna. Massie was still in that ugly hospital gown. "How do you think I'm doing?" she snapped. Massie hadn't showered or brushed her teeth in three days. Her brown hair hung limp around her face. "I lost everyone in my life that I loved!"
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Joanna told her. "Tragedy like this is tough."
"Seriously," Massie snapped. "And would you even know? Have you ever been in a car accident before, and lost everything good in your life?"
"Well, no…"
"Have you ever lost your parents, and have you ever been in a car accident that was so bad, the doctors have told you that the scars, deep gashes in your skin will be with you for the rest of your life?" Massie then fell back onto her pillow and began to sob once more, putting her face in her hands.
"Miss Block, this tragedy is most frightening, I understand. Your parent's will has been found, and they state that in case that they both pass away before you're 18th birthday, the house is to be sold but you can get all your stuff from it, and all the household funds will go into making sure that you can continue to go to OCD…"
"What are you talking about?" Massie asked.
"Miss Block, I'm sorry, but you are going to have to move out of the Block Estate and go into foster care until a family adopts you… If your adopted."
"What do you mean if I'm adopted?"
"Well, most people that decide to adopt decide to adopt a baby so they can raise the child to be their own. Most of the children in foster homes are over the age of 4."
Massie shook her head. "I can't!" she said. "I can't live the rest of my childhood, the last 5 years of my life in a foster home! I can't!"
"Miss Block…"
Massie just shook her head and buried it deeper into her pillow. "Go away!" she said. "I don't want you here. Nobody can help me out of this twisted nightmare I'm having! Nobody."
Massie packed up everything except her clothes. She packed her Mac, Bean, Bean's stuff, her Iphone 4G, her Palm Pilot… Everything except her clothes. Why would she pack them? They would just go out of style, anyways, and this way she had more room to pack things that really mattered. She would rather wear Juicy sweats to school than outdated clothes. And now she didn't have endless amounts of money to buy the newest fashions.
The moving truck came and loaded all her stuff into it. Massie held onto Bean under her arm while she climbed into the ugly blue van, which belonged to the social worker who ran the foster homes in Westchester.
Massie watched the familiar sights flash by, wondering if she would ever see them again. Her new foster home was an hour from the Block estate and half an hour from OCD.
Massie could now clearly see that her foster home was in the ghetto. There was a lot of suspicious people hanging around on street corners, and the houses were getting smaller and more dirty and old looking.
Finally, the social worker pulled up in front of a dirty stone house. It was big, but Massie had a feeling that it wasn't that big on the inside, and that it was a good size because it housed so many children. There was a boy of about two with sandy blond hair sitting on the front step, looking at a picture book, and three girls of about 7 outside playing jump rope. Massie watched, her heart sinking when she noticed all the kids were wearing dirty old clothes that would've served a better purpose as rags.
Ice cream, Ice cream
Cherry on top
How many boyfriends have I got?
Massie noticed that the girl jumping in the middle got up to 65 boyfriends before she tired.
A girl swung the front door open, looking outside. She looked bored and tired, and her pink rag dress was covered in looked about Massie's age. She had black stuff all over her face and in her dirty blond hair, too. "Mama! The new girl is here!" she called. Just then the moving truck pulled up.
This girl helped the movers unload Massie's stuff. "Follow me," she called. The two girls headed up a long, narrow staircase, and then down a narrow hallway. "This is my room," the girl said, swinging a door open. Massie peered in. It wasn't much more than a closet. It had two beds, two lamps, a tiny closet, and one tiny dresser. "You'll be sharing with me."
"Did you have this room all to yourself before I came?" Massie asked.
"Oh yes," the girl said, nodding. "All the other children were very jealous that I had a room all to myself. You see, I had a roomate named Annie, but someone killed her one day while we were outside playing."
Massie gasped.
