Parallel (Travelers Series Book 1)

Parallel (Chapter 1)

At ten years old, I didn’t know if I was lucky or cursed.

*****

Unlike a lot of foster kids, I’m not what most people would consider a head case. With Alexandria located only a couple of minutes away from Washington, D.C., the sins of the city overflow into the Commonwealth of Virginia, resulting in a ton of neglected children due to crackhead moms, parents slain in drive-by shootings, or dads taking up residence at the county jail. Sometimes, they end up in foster care simply because they’re too much for their folks to handle. Things like that can really screw-up a kid.

According to my file, I’m saddled with the labels of both orphan and difficult. It isn’t intentional. I just have the unfortunate pleasure of being present whenever people get hurt—like little Maxine. Incidents are either chalked up to accidents or blamed on me. Either way, I always get passed off to another family within the system.

After the episode with Lester, I learned from one of the social workers that he’d suffered a heart attack and ultimately broke his neck when he went barreling down the stairs. The police would later say Lester got off easy, which left Patsy facing seven counts of child abuse and some serious jail time. But at fifteen, no one was eager to take on a girl with ‘violent tendencies’, so I ended up at Dominion House.

When I first arrived at Dominion two years ago, I had to share a room with three other girls in tiny bunk style quarters, not much larger than a shoebox. Now that I’m seventeen, I’m considered a last year resident. The only perks that come with this distinction is a new dorm assignment, which means a bigger room (but not by much), and a new roommate. For her sake, I hope she’s easy to get along with. I managed to spend the last two years without any major mishaps. Sure, I got into some scuffles—just like prison, there’s a hierarchy to maintain here—but nothing near as bad as what I did to Lester.

Being the first to occupy the room, I settled in with high expectations for a fresh start. I only pray my roommate won’t mind that I already staked my claim on the bed by the window. Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I like to look out the window and gaze up at the stars. But I imagine it will be a small concession on her part, as I left her plenty of closet space. Despite what others might think about foster kids and our proximity to the nation’s capital, Northern Virginia is still one of the wealthiest areas in the country, rivaled only by the suburbs of New York City. So it’s not unusual for many of the girls that enter Dominion to have a lot of personal effects, handed down by previous foster families.

As I lay on my bed, imagining for the nth time all the possible scenarios in which my parents could have survived that plane crash, I hear a soft knock on the door. Almost immediately, I recognize the glorious platinum blonde hair as my new roommate strolls in. She’s even more gorgeous now than when I last laid eyes on her. Not that I’m jealous—just stating the facts.

“Jaime?” I can’t believe my luck. The odds of her walking through that door were pretty slim. Not only do I have a new room assignment that doesn’t involve a power play for the top bunk, but I actually get paired up with a friend. Looks like my last year here is going to be much more tolerable than I first imagined.

“Etta, I can’t believe it!” Jaime drops her worn hand-me-down bag at the door and runs towards me. Her bear hug gives me a chance to fully breathe in her scent. It reminds me of cotton candy.

“What are you doing here?” I hold my old friend at arm’s length, giving her the once over. “I can’t believe it either.”

Jaime smiles and proceeds to hug me all over again. 

“I’ve always wondered what happened to you. I missed you so much after you left. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten about me.”

It’s hard to forget a girl like Jaime. “It’s been like what, four years?” I’m almost eighteen, so if you want to get technical, it was more like three and a half years ago. “What happened to the Thornberry’s?” From what I remember, the family that fostered us several years ago had been stuffy and boring. “I thought you’d have been adopted by now.”

Oliver and Melissa Thornberry were an affluent family that couldn’t have children of their own. Because Mr. Thornberry was a major political player in Washington, they figured fostering a couple of kids would boost their public image and appeal to voters by appearing more family oriented. Once it became clear I was a potential liability, they sent me packing and kept Jaime.

Jaime snickers. “Oh, Melissa pulled a Martha Stewart and got busted for insider trading. Oliver was only too happy to send me back once he realized his own wife would be housed by the state. When his personal life became tarnished, I wasn’t such a political asset anymore.”

Yup, this is the same Jaime I so envied and loved.

Jaime’s giggle is infectious and I can’t help but laugh right along with her. “I guess I shouldn’t feel guilty about planting stink bombs in their toilet then.” Not only did that period mark the beginning of my teen years, it was also around the time I had a fascination with pranks—explosives to be more exact. And that my friends, is how I got kicked out of the Thornberry house after just two months.

“Well, you certainly made an impression, that’s for sure.” Jaime hops on the bed I’d already appropriated for myself. “This is great! We have so much to catch up on.”

Great, just when I thought I wouldn’t have to fight for a bed. Please don’t be claiming that bed as your own.

But in the end I was right. Jaime is so ecstatic about having a closet almost entirely to herself that she doesn’t even complain about my claiming the bed by the window. After arranging all her clothes, she plops herself onto the bed (her own this time), and we end up sitting across the room from each other, trying to come up with something to say.

I’m relieved that Jaime turned out to be my roommate, but we’d only really known each other for a couple of months before the Thornberry’s kicked me out. God, it seemed like ages ago. It’s doubtful we have very much to catch up on, but if I want to survive my last year here, I have to remember that she’s not only an old friend, but an ally. It’s us against the system.

Three and a half years is a long time between friends, so I don’t know just how much she’s actually changed, but Jaime seems harmless enough. There doesn’t seem to be any indications of any harmful side effects from living with a highly influential family like the Thornberry’s. She could have turned out differently—like a spoiled rich bitch. But instead, she’s the same old beautiful bubbly girl I remember from when I was fourteen.

We spend the remainder of the night catching up, gabbing about what’s gone on in our lives the last four years. Jaime goes on and on about going to college next year and all the cute boys she’s going to meet, while I avoid the topic all together—college is out of the question for me. Instead, I tell her about my exploits, moving around from home to home. Somewhere in the conversation, I realize she managed to live a pretty normal life, while mine seems to mirror the life of a hobo.

It’s almost 2AM by the time we finally fall asleep. My daydreams begin to invade my subconscious and I welcome the reoccurring dreams that invade my sleep each night. I live in a beautiful two story colonial where I have my own bedroom. Sometimes the scenes vary, but they always take place in the same house.

In tonight’s episode, my father and I are in the kitchen laughing over a plate of heavenly lasagna. A woman I don’t recognize is also there and she’s happy that we are all together, enjoying the home cooked meal she had prepared.

The dream sequences have become pretty commonplace the last couple of weeks. I don’t know why I keep dreaming of the same people night after night, but I’m not complaining. If I can’t be part of a family in real life, at least I could imagine myself in a world where I do—even if it’s only in my dreams.