FOSTER || Justin Bieber (HOLD)

ONE

Justin Bieber

"Why are you always fucking sneaking out." Derek's voice fills the air with tension. Derek was a supervisor around the home since it was full of raging boys and men, fights often tend to break out, but he also nagged me about everything.

I place my cup of water back down onto the counter from my lips and look up to him and slightly laugh. "Have you seen this shit hole?"

"Well that's against the rules. We don't tolerate that kind of shit here."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes strolling to go back to my room, until a females nails pushed my shoulder back. A small female, one of the social workers, Arabelle stood in front of me.

"Listen to Derek. Otherwise we will transport you back to the other group home." She takes her finger off of me and walks past me into the kitchen, where Derek stood with a smirk. I scoffed and before saying another thing, I left. The last thing I needed was to get shipped off.

Laying back onto my bed, closing my eyes, memories of the girl last night flooded my mind. What even happened to her after. We just kind of said good bye and left. But she was full of her stupid religious shit.

Last thing I need in my life. But I wish I got to see her in light so I could see her face. She seemed so sweet if she wasn't brain washed. The more I thought of the things I should've done, I got more tired. To the point where I drifted off into another slumber of the morning.

A sudden hit on my shoulder woken me up. Well more, startled me. My eyes opened wide with full crankiness filled inside me. I hated whenever someone interrupted my sleep. There stood, Derek.

"What!" I snapped, looking over to the clock, I had only slept for just over an hour.

"Its the day time. You know you're not allowed to sleep during the days." His body hasn't moved an inch, he just stood there staring at me and complaining.

"Im tired, why are you always fucking nagging man. Annoying as shit!" I rolled over facing away from him and pulling a pillow over my head.

"Maybe don't leave at night, and you won't be tired." He chuckled like he was funny.

"Ha-ha, you're fucking hilarious! Now please go fuck yourself!" I snapped again. This time I hadn't got a response. Guessing he had left the room, thank god.

Until just as I started to drift off again, my blankets from beneath me, were pulled onto the floor, taking my body with it. I landed roughly onto the hard wood floor. I swear if he wasn't a supervisor, he'd be dead within a second.

"Get up." His voice boomed through the room. "Pack your shit. A family will be here to pick you up this evening."

My body stiffed and I pulled the pillow off my face and looked him straight in the face. "You got to be fucking kidding" a smirk rode upon his lips along with his head shaking from side to side then leaving the room.

I pulled the pillow over my mouth, yelling every curse word in the book. I was beyond furious. This cannot be happening. I've been here for so long, and I had just a year left until I could onto independent living. Now I'm fucking trapped with a family. Im being fucking adopted!

I hated the idea of being part of a new family, because I already had my own family. It's just shit happens where you can no longer see them. I wasn't unwanted. I shouldn't be forced to do this!! I'm practically an adult. I wouldn't be here if the stupid law was like this.

"Stop moping about it and start packing!" Derek's voice yelled from outside of my room.

Practically dragging my body to my drawers full of my articles of clothing. Pulling a suitcase out from the corner, I just grabbed everything in each drawer -which wasn't much- and stuffed it into the suitcase filling it to the top. Pushing it down with my hand and zipping it up, I kicked it to the corner.

Groaning loudly I sat back onto my bed crossing my arms like a five year old. I stared at the roof, thinking over how life was so unfair to me. Then my eyes traced down to my tattoo littered arms studying them like I haven't before. Ones I never really cared to look at much. I'd usually just see something cool and get it tattooed. But then I had the few tattoos that meant the world to me.

My tattoos was like the words I couldn't speak. My skin was just like a empty canvas so I decided to fill it like a diary. They were just my unspoken words. My thoughts. My memories.

After about an hour of doing nothing but over thinking Arabelle called me into her office. Once I approached her door I knocked on the glass once. Her soft voice allowed me in. I stepped in to see her typing something out onto her computer. I stood there quietly waiting for what I was needed for.

"Sorry. Just sending out your birth information to the family." She slightly smiled continuing.

I mentally rolled my eyes. "This is stupid."

After a few seconds of no reply she finally finished and spoke up, "Did you think you stay in foster homes forever?"

"Group home. I'm not a foster child. I have a family." I snapped at her.

Her eyebrows lifted at my response slightly surprised. "Unfortunately Justin, this is a foster home. You don't have a family. That's why you are going to be sent to one."

Anger grew inside me slowly. I was loved, I had a family. Before it escalated any further, I changed the subject. "What did you even want me for?" The anger still boiling up inside me.

"I don't think it's a bother anymore." She turned back to her computer, "Continue on. Just be sure to meet in the foyer at quarter to five. Dressed somewhat nice."

I left without a reply. That was just a waste of breath and time. Going back to my bedroom, I sat onto a chair near a desk. I looked at my suit case and the fact that I was leaving excited me a slight bit. But not the thought of living with new people that I have to call my family.

Looking over to the clock seeing I had three hours to blow, I pulled out my phone and unlocked it opening up my Facebook and started scrolling through my newsfeed full of bullshit to pass time.

Later on in the day about twenty minutes before five, I had gotten dressed and prepared into a flannel with a plain white t-shirt underneath and jeans. Looking in the mirror then looking down onto the dresser a black wooden box lyed. I sighed dragging my finger around the edges of it. My fingers curled underneath it lifting it and carrying it to my suitcase. I wrapped it in a shirt of mine then tucked it into the suitcase. The only thing that I had left, that meant something to me.

"Justin!" Arabelle's voice was soft and sweet as she called me which obviously meant the family was here. I picked up my suitcase and before I left the room, I took one last look at the room and one last breath before going downstairs.

A man stood sternly in a black suit with his hands tucked behind his back. By his side a smaller woman stood with a friendly smile on her face. Her blonde hair was tucked up into a pony tail.

"Justin, this is Jack and Violet." Arabelle said as a man takes my bag out to there car. I guess they were stacked up with cash. Which I don't mind. At all. Hehe.

After having a bit of small talk, I said good bye to the staff at the group home. I walked behind Jack and Violet. It was really awkward because we didn't talk as we went to the car. They seemed like really friendly people. At least they weren't stuck up rich people. Well at least that I don't know of.

We reached a black Range Rover. Impressed, I am. My bags were already in the trunk from butler(?) I'm guessing. As I got in Jack ignited the engine, and Violet turned around with a smile. "So how long have you been living there for?"

"Six years." I replied with a smile and my eyes roamed to the mirror in the middle of the front window, a cross hung from it. They were religious. I mentally groaned before Violet spoke up again. I'm stuck with religious fucking freaks!

--

What do you think is in the box that means so much to Justin?

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