So, I changed stuff a little. I got bored with the other story and didn't want to keep looking back to see what I wrote. lol. And personally things suck right now and I need a distraction. So, here I am. Also, does ANYONE know whare I can watch episodes of Believe online? No netflix and amazon isn't working. I also have NO ACCESS to the last and most important episode. Anyone know where they can be found, and somewhere I won't get my computer full of viruses, that'd be much appreciated. It's hard to write chapters about episodes just from memory. But, I'm trying.
The din from the tweleve plus orphans in the house was something Allison was used to. She heard them now, all gathered in the livingroom around the tv set. Not liking crowds of any sort, Allison preferred to be off by herself. Usually she was reading a French book, working on her Spanish, or writing stories. But today she saught out the rare solitude of the house den. She and others were often sent to 'foster homes' like this, which weren't really foster homes at all, merely an extension of the main orphanage, but used to give the children the occassional feel of a home. No one hung out in the den. The rumor was that it was haunted, and Allison made sure that rumor was well maintained, especially when she wanted a little privacy. It was a dusty room that was used as a storage room, really just filled with old junk that never sold at the orphanage rummage sales, like the old tv set in front of Allison now.
Allison turned the dial on the tv. It was old, super old. Old enough that a remote wouldn't work. But when Allison turned the dial, she saw things.
Now a little girl with dark blond hair in a green sweatshirt appeared on the screen, walking out of a corner shop.
"We need to go to 1422 Oswald Street." She said this as she walked out onto the sidewalk, followed by a skinny man with wavy brown hair.
"What are you talking about?" He looked at her like she was crazy. And they just stood there in the middle of the sidewalk as people are cars zoomed past them.
"I need to tell Dr. Terry about Senga."
The guy just lost it and wheeled on the kid. "Can you shut up and listen to me ya little brat? No one cares! No wonder you got 20 foster parents!"
Allison gasped her eyes and mouth making three perfect circles of shock, then laughed in surprise. No one talks to kids like that on tv. But intruiged it was a show about a foster kid, she kept watching.
The little girl turned on the man with equal venom.
"You're mean, and you're being stupid, and you have anger problems!"
"Good one," Allison nodded and chuckled.
Grey loud static filled the screen. Allison hit the box on the side several times before it shut up. But the picture was gone. Quickly she turned the television dial, letting it click through each station, but nothing showed up on the screen.
"Damn it," she hissed.
She stood up and walked to the door. It wouldn't do for anyone to see her in this room, after all. "Maybe it'll be on later." It was a consoling thought. The idea of seeing anyone on tv like her, a foster kid that no one wanted, was very appealing.
The sound of voices woke Allison up again that night. But when she opened her eyes, she saw only the dark outlines of her dorm room, the familiar shapes of the double and triple bunk beds and the various sleeping forms of the girls who inhabited them. Sleeping on one of the bottom bunks herself, it was an easy matter to roll out of bed and leave the room without anyone noticing; which she did in short order.
As she walked carefully in her bare feet, the wood floor felt cool, and oddly comforting. The idea of being awake or wandering a house at night might be an unappealing thought to some people, but Allison relished the solitude and the dark as well. It made her feel invisible, and safe.
She stopped still in her tracks when the voices sounded again, muffled, but vaguely familiar. Allison stood still and listened, turning her head and focusing her ears to find the sound. It took only a moment.
Downstairs, The den. She moved easily down the steps gliding past the creaky spots to the main floor of the house. It wasn't hard to find the den, as it was lit up, as if from a running television set. Sure enough when Allison entered the small space, the old television, on top of the chest of drawers, was turned on. And showing on the screen was the same little girl and the same man she'd seen before.
"All right!" She yelled in her excitement, then froze a moment and clapped a hand over her mouth. She waited for what seemed like an eternity for sounds from the upstairs rooms, or lights, or voices saying her solitude had been broken.
Finally convinced of continued solitude, she nonetheless creeped slowly towards the tv, blinking in the light.
"Is he gonna be my new foster dad?" The girl was looking at a tall, older black man.
"In a second, sweetheart." The black man was giving most of his attention to the angry skinny guy.
"He stinks."
He threw his hands up and yelled,
"I fell in a sewer! I told you!"
Then he looked back at the other man.
"See? She doesn't want to be with me!"
Allison turned the channel dial backward. Another smile as she saw the little girl again, in a hospital gown, creeping around in the night. Another turn of the dial showed the same girl, lying in a hospital bed, the angry guy sitting over her.
"What's your name?"
"Tate."
"You were crying."
"No I wasn't."
"Yes you were."
"Well I hit my head, it hurts."
"No it doesn't. Those bruises are fake."
"How do you know?"
"Cuz you're not feeling any pain."
Remembering the other channel, Allison quickly turned the dial back. There she saw the little girl running up to a dangerous looking woman and screaming for all she was worth.
Allison's mouth dropped open as she watched an enormous flock of pigeons, commanded by the scream, engulf the woman.
"This is a cool show," she whispered the pronouncement to the empty room.
A sudden thud made her jump with fright, and instantly turn the tv off. Though when she touched the off knob she realized the television was already turned to off. The sound of a car speeding off got her attention again.
With a glance upstairs, Allison crept to the front door. Opening it she saw that the noise had been the daily paper hitting the door, having been thrown from the window of the car of a passing newsperson.
Bending down the chill of the morning air didn't bother her in the slightest. Turning the paper over and opening it up she saw two large pictures on the cover page. The people she'd just been watching on tv.
William Tate, escaped death row inmate.
Amber Alert, Missing 10 year old girl, Bo Adams.
"Bo," she whispered.
Allison stared hard at the picture of the smiling girl, trying to think of why she seemed so familiar.
"Bo," she whispered, "I know I know her."
Softly she closed the door as she re-entered the house. As she did so she heard the girl, Bo's voice saying, "What's rule number two?"
"Do everything I say." The man, William Tate's voice was gruff and exasperated.
"But what if we live in an igloo, and you have a cold and can't smell, and you tell me to light a candle , but I smell gas?"
"Ya know what? Light the candle."
Allison laughed until she fell over.