Chapter 3: New Family
"Your new family is really nice," Ms Bloodson said as she crossed over the town line. A whole town away.
Nothing more was said until ten minutes later. Ms Bloodson pulled up to a house and smiled.
The house loomed above the driver's side of the car, so I had to lean forward to see it properly. It was a modern-looking, two story house. It was baby blue with white trim and a white porch. The roof was black. It reminded me of the time I asked Dad if we could paint the roof with white polka dots.
"Welcome home," Ms Bloodson said with a smile.
I sighed and sat back in my seat. "It's not home without Justin," I mumbled as I directed my attention across the street.
The first thing I saw was a curtain pulling away from the window. The window was on the second story and there was a boy standing there, watching us. The only noticeable thing I saw on the boy was a mop of blonde hair and a dark green hoodie.
Ms Bloodson got out and waited on the sidewalk for me. I got out slowly and slid my backpack onto my shoulder while I gathered the top of my trash bag in my fist.
"You're going to love it here," Ms Bloodson said. "New school, new friends, new town, new family."
I just looked at her. My face was blank. I wanted to strangle her.
Ms Bloodson started walking up the walkway to the house. I followed, trying not to throw my bag at her. Ms Bloodson rang the doorbell and I looked at my shoes.
A woman who looked like she was in her late forties answered the door. She had brown hair that was pulled into a braid. Her eyes were soft brown and her face had sharp features. She beamed at us and welcomed us in.
"Hi, you must be Gabriella! I'm so glad you're here," she said to me. She held her hand out for a hand shake, after brushing some stray hairs out of her face. "I'm Amelia Young. Feel free to call me Amelia."
We walked into a cream coloured living room. There were pictures hung on the walls. Some of the pictures were inspirational, Christian quotes, and others were family pictures.
"My husband and I were so excited at the idea of raising a teenager again."
There were two men on the couch. They both had medium brown hair. The younger man had chiseled features and a narrow nose. His hair stuck up a little in front, which reminded me of a certain Scottish actor. The older man looked like he was in his early fifties and had slightly softer features. His hair was neatly combed to the right side. Not a hair out of place. Was he as uptight as he looked?
"This is my husband, Jay. He's a mechanic. The younger one covered in crumbs is our son, Nathan. Although, I could have sworn he had his own house."
Nathan gave her a sarcastic laugh as he stood up. He was six feet tall. "Ha ha, Mom. Just wanted to meet the newest edition of the family." He looked at me and smiled. "It's nice to meet you." He held out his hand and I just looked at it.
I looked around the room. The television was on the wall next to the door. Across
"Can I go to my room," I asked as I turned to Mrs Young.
She smiled, because that seemed to be all she could do right now. She led me upstairs. For some reason, Ms Bloodson followed suit.
"So, Gabriella, we didn't know what colour to paint your room, so we painted it white. As soon as you have a colour to paint it, you just let us know."
"Gabriella won't have a problem with that," Ms Bloodson said. "She's very creative and artistic."
I glared at Ms Bloodson as we reached my room. I looked at it and had to bite back a smart remark. The walls were indeed white, as were the bedsheets and pillows. The bedframe was also white, as was the desk. The only thing that wasn't white, was the carpet. The carpet was grey.
"Do you like it," Mrs Young asked.
I stepped into my room and shut the door before they could come in. I heard the two women sigh on the other side of the door.
"She's had a rough week," Mrs Young said. "We should give her some space and let her unpack. Thank you for dropping her off. Do you want some tea or coffee?"
Their voices and footsteps faded away and I looked at my room.
I sat at the desk and started pulling things out of my bag. I pulled out the family photo album, Mom's two favourite books, and Mom's jewelry box. I set the jewelry box on the desk and opened it. Taped to the inside of the lid was a picture of Mom and Dad on their wedding day.
They both looked happy and full of life. They were standing by the wedding cake. Mom was laughing so hard, she had to hold her stomach. The veil of her wedding dress was almost hanging over her face. Her hand was over her mouth. Her nose was wrinkled. Her bright blue eyes twinkled with humour. She looked like she was sixteen, even though I know it was a few weeks after her eighteenth birthday.
Dad was standing a little behind Mom. His fist was covering half of his laughing mouth. His face was red, which meant he had been laughing for a while. His brown eyes were tearing up. His black hair had fallen into his eyes. It looked freshly trimmed, like his beard. That was the only time I saw my dad with a beard.
I frowned and looked at the picture.
"Sorry, Mom and Dad. I lost Justin. I don't know when I can get him back, but I'm going to try. I'll try to get Justin back, and find a way to avoid us going to Eric. I'll make everything okay. I promise."
The thing that made me want to cry wasn't my failure. It was knowing that I wasn't ever going to get an answer. I was never going to hear my mom yelling at me again, or heard Dad throwing things in anger. He was never going to throw things at me again. He was never going to scream insults at me again. For some messed up reason, I missed that.
With a sigh, I closed the lid of Mom's jewelry box, then I organised the rest of my stuff. I didn't bother unpacking my clothes. Just the books.
My next social interaction was someone knocking at my door at six thirty. Before I could say anything, Nathan opened the door and poked his head in.
"Hey, it's dinner time."
I was sitting at the desk, working on the sketch of Mom. The lid of my jewelry box was up. As Nathan opened the door, I turned in my chair to look at the door.
"You don't say much, do you?" He walked into my room and looked around. He saw my stuff on the desk and looked at it. "Are these your parents?"
He looked at me and I raised an eyebrow.
"Guess I shouldn't be looking at your things."
I wanted to be really rude and snap at him, but I didn't have the energy. Nathan stepped away from the desk and I got up.
I shut the lid of the jewelry box and walked over to the door. Nathan stepped out of my room and led me to the kitchen. It was down the stairs and to the right. Not that complicated. Mr and Mrs Young were already at the table.
A bread pan of meatloaf sat in the middle of the table. There was also a salad and a variety of salad dressings.
I sat down between Mr and Mrs Young. The table was small. Four seats. Mr and Mrs Young sat at the head of the table and the other end of the table. That left the two sides open. Nathan took the other seat. Mrs Young held my hand and I looked at her.
"Sorry," she said as she let go. "We always say grace. Usually we hold hands as we say grace."
I nodded and let her hold my hand. Mr Young held his hand out and I put my hand in his, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Mrs Young squeezed my hand a little to be reassuring. The two then held Nathan's hands and they all bowed their heads. I watched as they prayed to God and thanked him for the food and their day. Mrs Young even thanked God for me, for some weird reason.
"Gabriella," Mrs Young said after they were done praying. "How old are you?" They had let go of my hands and Mrs Young was busy filling everyone's plates.
"Fifteen." I just wanted to eat my dinner. I didn't want to play twenty questions.
"What kind of things do you like to do?"
I shrugged. "I draw and punch things."
"So she speaks," Nathan said with a laugh. His mother glared at him and Nathan stopped laughing. "Sorry, it's nice to hear you speak."
I rolled my eyes and Mrs Young placed my plate back on the table.
"Do you want dressing for your salad," Mrs Young asked.
"Ranch," I said simply.
After that, Mrs Young mainly directed her questions at Nathan and Mr Young. It was things like "how was your day?" "How's your girlfriend, Nathan?" "Are you and her coming to dinner on Sunday?"
I tuned out and pushed my food around my plate. I wanted this stupid dinner over with so I could go upstairs.
"Gabriella," Mrs Young said. I looked at her. "I have your brother's address. You could send him a letter."
I simply nodded. This was not what I wanted to do. I just wanted to eat, then go upstairs. Why did they make this crap so hard?
"Can't you text him," Nathan asked.
"I don't have a phone," I told him. My voice had a razor's edge. "There was supposed to be one under the Christmas tree, but then my parents died."
That shut everyone up. Mrs Young looked down at her plate. Nathan looked at me stupidly and Mr Young ate his meatloaf.
"I just thought they were abusive," Nathan muttered.
I stood up and dumped the salad bowl on his head, then I ran upstairs. I slammed the door shut and grabbed my sketchbook. I opened it to just scribble, but I accidentally opened it to the picture of Mom.
She was the best mom ever. Yeah, she lost her temper every once in a while, but she never hit us. Mom drove me if I needed to go somewhere far away. She worked as hard as she could, in a job she hated, just so I could have WiFi and clothes. I didn't have all the latest gadgets, but Mom made sure I had something. I'd trade everything I have for one more minute with her.
I looked at my jewelry box sitting across the room. I thought about Dad.
I'd give anything to hear him sing me to sleep again. He was around less than Mom. When I was a really little kid, he had a night job and slept during the day. I was about five or six when he got his job at the radio station. He always made sure that he came home before five. He sat with us and taught Justin how to make the perfect mustache out of his pasta noodles. He showed me Doctor Who and Bob Ross.
He was always chasing trains, or at the radio station. He was a redneck DJ, just without the outrageous country accent. At night, he played us songs on his guitar until eleven. When he had to work on something that required concentration, he played country music, or Christian rock.
I brushed my tears away. I got up and went to my desk and flipped to a fresh page in my sketchbook. I just began sketching everything and anything.
The Young's left me alone that night. I went to bed at eleven, falling into a fitful sleep.
In my dream, I was in one of those old orphanages you see in movies. There were young girls all around me. I was the oldest.
"So," a girl with brown pigtails said. "You couldn't hold onto your brother, could you?" My mouth was glued shut. "This is why he would yell at you. Everything he said was true."
I tried to open my mouth. It wasn't my fault that Justin and I got split up! Abbey had it out for me. It wasn't my fault my parents died!
"You're not the badass you think you are. You're just a pile of crap, wasting space in the world."
I tried to punch the kid. The kid ducked and smiled. She screamed and an adult came running in. I was separated from all the other kids. I sat in the corner and cried.
Then I woke up. I was sweating and cold. Usually, I would run to Justin and hug him tightly, but I was in an unfamiliar room.
It was still dark outside. I looked at my clock and saw that it was two in the morning. There was no way that I was going back to sleep. I turned on the lamp next to me. The shadows were pushed back, making me feel less claustrophobic. But, I was still alone. I hated being alone. I wanted my brother, or my parents.
I pulled my legs up to my chest and slowly rocked back and forth. Then I began sobbing. All the anger I held inside me was boiling over. Why was the world against me? I started sobbing. It was enough to shake my whole body. I wasn't sure if I was rocking back and forth, or using the power of sobs to propel myself. All I knew was that I couldn't stop crying. I hadn't cried like this since I was ten or eleven.
After what felt like an eternity of sobbing, I heard something outside my door creak. I looked up, but I couldn't see anything through my tears. All I saw was a dark figure walking through my room. I tried to scoot away from it, but I wasn't fast enough.
The bed dipped as they sat down. I was lifted into strong male arms. I didn't have enough strength to pull away, so he just held me and rocked back and forth.
"It's going to be okay," Mr Young whispered. He rubbed my back soothingly. "I know everything is horrible right now, but we'll fix everything. There's no need to worry. Everything will be okay."
This small spark inside me wanted to scream at him. I wanted to punch him in the face and scream at him that nothing was okay, but I couldn't. I could barely lift my head, or wipe away my tears.
When you've had to fight your whole life, you start to get tired. I've been fighting Eric for so long, I want to give up. I thought he was dead, but now I have this new challenger. Now I have to fight the system for Justin. I just want to sit and rest. I didn't want to fight anymore.
Mr Young wiped my tears away. I felt like a five year old.
"Is everything okay?" Mrs Young's voice came from the doorway.
Mr Young looked at me. "Everything will be okay, right?"
Some people aren't very talkative at two or three in the morning. I am one of these people. I am a person who very much hates being woken up, by dream or person. I shrugged and looked away from both of them.
"I think Gabriella just had a nightmare. Go back to bed, sweetheart."
The door closed and the other side of the bed dipped. Does anyone freaking listen?
Mrs Young stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. "If it's about Justin, we're doing everything in our power to get him over here. I promise. You won't be away from him for long. This is just temporary. Soon you and Justin will be here together, then when Eric is all better, you both will move in with him."
I shook my head. "Eric will kill us."
"Sweetheart, I'm sure that's not true."
"Justin has a scar at the corner of his eye. It's from Eric smashing his face into the corner of the wall. Eric will continue to beat the shit out of both of us, until we die. I'm never going to live with him. I'd rather just slit my wrists and get it over with."
Mr Young held me a little tighter. "That won't happen. I'll tell the social worker. We won't let you leave the house with Eric. I promise."
When my parents promised things, I could tell they were just a bunch of bullcrap. However, when Mr Young promised, I didn't have the energy to argue back. I just sighed and felt my eyelids start to droop.
At seven o'clock the alarm on the bedside clock started going off. I sat up and looked around. The grown ups were gone. I turned off the alarm, then started getting ready for the day. At seven thirty, there was a soft knock at my door.
I was looking for my shoes. My lucky fake Converse shoes. The white sides were peeling off, and there were a few holes in the canvas on top of the shoe. They fit like a glove and I liked them. They fit my whole grunge look. I found them under my bed.
"Gabriella," Mrs Young called through the closed door. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," I called as I picked up my shoes. I untied them as she walked in.
Mrs Young looked at me as she opened the door. "I was going to ask if you wanted breakfast, but I think the better question is, do you want to go shopping today?"
"School starts today."
Mrs Young smiled. "School can wait until tomorrow. Get your shoes on, get some breakfast, then get your coat on. We're going shopping."
"I don't have any money."
"I know. I haven't given you your allowance yet. Don't worry about it."
"Why are you being nice to me," I asked as I slid on my shoe. "I'm just a problem child."
Mrs Young leaned against the door. "You're not just a problem child. You're a creative kid that's going through a rough time. A few outbursts do not make you a problem child."
I looked at my feet.
"Here we believe in giving people second chances. We're not going to throw you out because Nathan wasn't thinking before he spoke."
I looked up at her. "Really?"
Mrs Young nodded. "But, we have a few rules. No swearing. No sneaking out. We need to know where you are at all times. No fights. You need to go to school unless you are sick, or we're going somewhere. If you have any problems, I strongly urge you to come to us, or another adult that you trust. We're here to help you, not make your life harder."
I nodded.
"The final rule is that if you leave the house, you need to have your cell phone on you at all times. At school, you can put it on vibrate, but you still need to have it in your pocket or in your bag. We're gonna put your phone on our phone plan."
"I don't have a phone."
Mrs Young smiled. "I remember." She walked away and closed the door.
The Young's are going to buy me a phone? Why? What do they gain from this? I slid my sketchbook, pencil case, notebook, and wallet into my blue backpack with white polka dots.
When I came downstairs with my bag on my shoulder, Mrs Young looked confused.
"You aren't going to school, Gabriella. It's okay to leave your bag upstairs."
"My backpack is like my purse," I explained. "Except it fits more and I have to be checked by people at concerts and movie theatres."
"That's actually a good idea," Mrs Young said with a smile.
I sat at the kitchen table. Mrs Young had made eggs and bacon. I started nibbling at the eggs, leaving the bacon high and dry.
Mrs Young noticed in a heartbeat. "Do you not like bacon? You aren't a vegetarian, are you?"
I smiled. "It's good. I'm not a vegetarian, but I am against bacon."
Mrs Young laughed. "I'm gonna go wake Jay, then when you're done with breakfast, we can leave."
"You aren't going to have any?"
"I had some before I went to wake you up."
I nodded. "Where's Nathan?"
She smiled a little. "He went home for the night. He wanted you to have some space. He'll be back by this afternoon, though. He wants to bond with you, so you'll feel comfortable with him." Mrs Young then left the room and headed upstairs.
I noticed she hadn't said anything about last night. Had I just dreamed that? It wasn't unusual for me to have dreams like that. Maybe it never happened.
Mrs Young came back within ten minutes. I had just scraped my bacon into the trash, and was putting my dirty plate in the sink. She looked at me and bit her lip.
"Gabriella, did you sleep well after your nightmare?"
Crap. Of course that wasn't a dream! Well, there goes my hard exterior.
"Yeah, I was fine. Thanks."
She walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. "Were you serious? About Eric and you...wanting to kill yourself?"
I took a deep breath. I had only ever explained this to a therapist before. "I am suicidal, but I'm putting it off for Justin. I'm not dumb enough to leave him alone. Especially now. Justin doesn't need another tragedy."
Mr Young came into the room and Mrs Young turned to him with a smile.
"What's up?" He had his brown hair combed and neat, but that was the only thing neat about his appearance. He was wearing jeans with stains all over them. His undershirt had a bunch of stains all over it, but his dark blue overshirt had less stains. It also had a patch on the right side of his chest, proudly displaying his name, Jay.
He smiled at us. "Hello, ladies. Is breakfast edible today?"
Mrs Young laughed. "Stop teasing me about that, you bully. The only reason my eggs burned was because Nathan burned his finger on the stove."
"The likely story," Mr Young said with a smile.
I stood back, just watching them interact. Mrs Young lightly hit Mr Young's shoulder. She kissed Mr Young's cheek.
"I'm going shopping with Gabriella. We'll be back later."
Mr Young grabbed her waist as she tried walking away. "Hey, give me a proper goodbye."
I gagged as Mrs Young turned to him. They chuckled and I walked out of the room before they kissed. I was picking up my bag, as Mrs Young walked over to the front door.
"Hey, see you later, Gabriella," Mr Young called as he poked his head out of the kitchen. "Make sure Amelia doesn't go overboard. She tends to do that."
Mrs Young made a face and grabbed her car keys from a rack by the door. "You hush and eat your breakfast. Love you!"
She grabbed her purse from the peg next to it, then put her hand on the doorknob. "Ready to go," she asked.
I pulled on my sweater. "I was born ready."
"You don't have a coat?"
I looked at her. "Never needed one."
Mrs Young seemed flabbergasted. "But you've spent your whole life in Minnesota. Didn't you get cold in the winter?"
"If I stay inside, it doesn't matter. The maximum time I spent outside was two minutes."
Mrs Young smiled. "Remind me to get you a coat too. You'll have to walk home if you don't want to ride the bus."
I nodded and we left the house. I looked across the street as we walked to Mrs Young's car. That person was in the window again. They were watching me.
"Gabriella, are you okay," Mrs Young asked.
I looked at her. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Mrs Young smiled and we both slid into the car. She turned on the car, then pulled out of the driveway.
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