Sitting here, in the middle of tyhe forest, wondering where the hell I was, I was the most relaxed I had been in years. Since my mother had left, and since my father started drinking as an escape from my mothers death. The unbelievable pain, both psyical and emotional, struck me every day without cease. I felt like my fathers abuse alone would kill me, and I was already weak with the lonely and terrible feeling. THe thing is, I could be moved to another foster home, but I appreciated that I could stay in one place, and not worry about being dumped on some street corner like my drug addicted birth mother had done when I was five. I don't believe she was an addict, because I can remember the tears running down her face telling me I'll be okay as she was dragged off by some idiot boyfriend that yanked her into the car, one I had never seen before. I believe that after she left me for a man that believed her to be a prostitute, my mother got caught in the wrong wind that led the goverment to putting her in jail for illegal haboring of a convicted villan. I was not supposed to even be dealing with these things! I'm a forteen year old girl, for Gods sake.
Just then I realized Justin sitting next to me, for he reached over and wiped off the tears streaming down my face. Though quiet, Justin had been my very best friend since the beginning. Well, since I started attending Harborville Middle School. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking at me with his huge green eyes. I shrugged, and he sighed, letting his hair fall in front of his eyes, only to have him pull it behind his ears again. "Why don't you just cut your hair? You hate it in your face." I said, unittentionally. Justin suddenly got a fear-stricken look on his face and he started pulling on his silery ponytail in the back his head, silently reminding me that he loved the fact his hair was so different. He refused to dye his hair, and only had it cut a certain way so it looked the same almost every time you saw him.
Forgetting that, I acknowledged our surroundings and asked, "Where in the world are we?" as I laid back onto the uneven ground. "I don't know what it's called, but I know we're dead, some shot us while we were running from your dad. You don't remember?" The fact that I din't remember this sounded like I had crushed Justin's heart. "No." I replied.
He sighed, "I kissed you, when we were hanging out in your room and you layed down on my chest. Your dad found us asleep like that and-" he paused. "-and started hitting you. I got us out of the house he he started chasing us down the street. Some kids dealing drugs thought he was yelling at them- he was saying that he was gonna call the cops or something- and they couldn't see us. So they shot twice, aiming at him and hitting us both. I can't say when it was, but the last things I saw was your dad hitting us with a pole and seeing those kids run like hell." Justin paused again, "Are you okay?"
"Fine, Justin. I'm always fine." I said in a luxurious rest on the forest floor, "Tell me more stories, Justin. Tell me more stories 'til I'm gone." I felt tranquil, hearing his voice as a background noise. I was drifting in and out of existance like a yo-yo, getting lost in the falling leaves.