Jessie Hinmoor obediently followed the social worker out of the front door, closing the door behind her quietly. Every fiber in her body wanted to slam the large chunk of wood as hard as she could, but she remained silent. There was no reason to bring more anger onto her tiny frame. She was having trouble handling what she already had.
She slung her backpack, containing everything she owned, onto her back and walked down the walkway leading to the black car in front of the house. Why did every car she ever stepped into have to be as black as the ink that signed her name away every so often. Why did it have to be as black as the cloaks that everyone wore for the funeral when they had buried her parents, and why did it have to be the one color that she feared?
She glanced back over her shoulder to look at the house, a little two-story house that could have been found in a storybook. The bright paint, brickwork, and the large windows had given Jessie hope when she had first come to this home, but now, the American Dream house was shutting her out once again. She had thought that this might be the one. She had thought that this might actually be her home. Stupid girl. She'd been wrong yet again.
"In here," said the social worker, whose name Jessie had already forgot, as he opened the door to the black car and motioned for Jessie to step into it.
"Thank you," Jessie said softly, but the man didn't respond. He simply shut the door as soon as she pulled both long legs into his car and strode quickly to the other side. Jessie put her head down and bit her lip. She always hated moving because no matter what social worker came to get her, they always made it perfectly clear that she was simply a stop along their way, a waste of their time.
She had always tried to be polite. Her parents had taught her manners right along with how to eat mashed up carrots and peas from her highchair. Everyone at the American Dream house had seemed to like her, and Jessie had thought that her manners might overshadow her tendency to lapse into long periods of silence. No one but this last family had been comfortable with her silence. Every other family had claimed that it was "eerie" and "unnatural," saying that she wasn't normal at all.
Every foster family receives money for the children they take on, and Jessie had tried her hardest to bring herself out of her silences, especially when some members of certain households had started to avoid her, but even the money hadn't been enough for them to keep her. So now, for the sixth time, she was moving again, and if she was honest with herself, she would admit that it wasn't because of the silences that this family was sending her off. It was because of that night, almost a month ago, when everything had gone horribly wrong.
She felt like an object. As soon as one family felt that they could handle her no longer, she would go back on Foster Kid eBay and wait for the next family to take a trial run with her. No matter what she did, no family wanted to keep her too long, and now, willing foster homes were getting scarcer. No one seemed to be in the market for a quiet seventeen-year-old with hidden talents that she kept locked away, much like her emotions.
"Where am I going this time?" Jessie asked, trying to keep the weariness out of her voice. She refused to sound like some put-upon kid that lived and breathed to make trouble.
The driver glanced at Jessie out of the corner of his eye, trying to judge her question. "The Blake family," he told her. "They have three other foster kids and one older daughter."
Great. She'd be one of five and probably easily overlooked. Jessie's hands tightened into fists and she sat back against the leather seat, letting her eyes drift out the window. She could feel another quiet spell coming on.
"Their daughter works at the hospital in town," the social worker told her, his hands tightening nervously over the steering wheel as he glanced back at her.
Jessie could almost swear that people had some sort of sensor that went off inside their heads, telling them to start a conversation just when she started to lapse into silence. She closed her eyes, willing herself to say something, anything. "Fascinating," she murmured, and felt herself cringe. She had not meant to come across as rude. She smiled at the driver to show that she meant no harm and then turned back to the window, storing the information in the back of her mind for later use.
To her dismay, and the social worker's obvious relief, the car soon turned into a residential area and Jessie knew that she was almost there. The house soon appeared, a squished two-story house with only two windows in the front. A sign on the fence warned strangers away from the dog they kept there, and Jessie felt her heart give a little squeeze of panic. The house looked like something from a horror film.
The social worker obviously had some of the same thoughts, for his eyebrows came together slightly before he opened his door and strode to the other side of the car to help her out. When he opened the door, Jessie took a deep breath. She looked up at the worker, realizing that he was waiting for her to say something, and she said, "I'm ready." The way she said it sounded tired, as though she was long past fighting for anything, and the calm way she voiced those words made the social worker glance at her again with a frown.
"They've said she was an odd one," he thought to himself as he watched the thin girl slide out of the car and grab her backpack. "Perhaps they've been right all along. I'll be glad when she's no longer in my care. She's too quiet. It's weird."
Together, Jessie and the social worker strode to the front door, but Jessie could barely force her long legs to carry her up the porch steps, much less get her fingers to ring the rusty doorbell, so the social worker rang it for her. There was a screech inside, and Jessie felt her heart hammering harder than it usually did outside a new home. What was this going to be like for her?
The door opened and a tired woman poked her head out. "Yes?" she said sharply, as though they were taking up a valuable block of her day simply by standing on her termite-infested porch and ringing her doorbell.
"This is Jessie Hinmoor," said the social worker, seeming to be almost put at ease now that he was around someone else. What was it about her silence that made people so leery of her? It wasn't as though she was hurting anyone by it!
The woman eyed her up and down. "Oh," she said, and Jessie was taken back by her tone. She sounded almost disappointed as she gazed at her new foster ward. "You'd better come in then," she said stiffly, holding the door open a little further. "Thanks for dropping her off," she added to the social worker.
He nodded and turned away. "Goodbye!" he called hurriedly, walking as quickly as decorum would allow him to. He was barely in his car before he was revving the engine and pulling away, leaving Jessie completely alone.
Jessie closed her eyes for a moment, holding back the tears. She could do this. Only a little while longer and she wouldn't have to be put in another foster home. Just a little longer and she could move out and move on with her own life. But for now, there was a new home to be discovered. As the woman, Mrs. Blake, led her upstairs, Jessie half expected to be led into an attic were she would receive only a little trundle bed. It wasn't that bad. It was worse.
"You'll be sharing a room with my daughter," the woman told her. "She's the closest one to your age anyways. She works at the hospital, and you'll have to go with her after school because I'm not home and I don't want you home alone." Mrs. Blake looked evenly at Jessie, her tone clearly implying, "I don't trust you to be alone in my house."
"Great," Jessie said, but she smiled to show the woman that she was at least trying to be polite.
"I'll leave you to unpack," Mrs. Blake said and turned swiftly out the door, leaving it open behind her.
Jessie could feel her spirits sinking rapidly. This was going to be one of those houses, the ones where no one actually cared much about you as long as you left them alone and didn't create too much trouble for them. "Outstanding," she muttered, knowing that she was by herself.
It didn't take long for her to unpack since all she had was in her backpack. She neatly folded every item and placed them in the little nightstand she had been given, more for something to do that anything else. She stepped out of the room and headed downstairs, hoping, yet seriously doubting, that any of the other family members were any better than their mother.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Jessie had to twist to the side in order to avoid the two boys that went barreling past her, ignoring her completely as one threatened to rip apart the other. Mrs. Blake appeared, chasing after the boys with an expression that meant trouble for them, and spotted Jessie as she was passing. "Stir the soup," she told Jessie and shoved the ladle into the girl's hands before yelling, "You two get down here right now!" There was no response, so she started up the stairs after them, huffing as she went and muttering something under her breath that sounded murderous.
Jessie stood there for a moment, remnants of the soup dripping down from the ladle, before she made her way through the rest of the house to find the kitchen. Once there, she made her way over to the stove, relatively clean considering what Jessie had seen of the house, and began to stir the soup. She heard a cry from upstairs, followed by rapid howling that Jessie could not understand, and more scurrying.
She bent her head over the soup and blinked, surprised when a tear fell into the mixture. She hadn't cried in a very long time, but it seemed that utter loneliness had finally taken a toll on her. She bit her lip, determined not to start to cry now, and stirred the soup with more force, almost sloshing some of the contents out of the pot. Surely no one would notice the extra bit of salt that the soup now contained.
"I'm alone," was all that Jessie could think as she brushed her eyes dry stubbornly. "I'm alone."
A/N: Did you like it? I hope so! Thank you guys so much for the awesome first chapter reviews. I was so tickled to death that I had to write the next chapter!! :D Please keep it up! I love hearing from you guys! ;)