A New Home.

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- 1O Years later -

Many thoughts swam around in my head as I dragged my big black suitcase from under my bed. 

What will they be like? Will I have a step brother or sister? What if I don't get along with them? What if i don't like my new family?

Those were just a few of them. There were a million more tormenting my brain. I allowed a heavy sigh to escape my lips. What if they're just like the others ? For these past 1O years i've been tossed about like a piece of trash. People need to realise that I do have feelings. I might not show them but hey, can you really blame me after what i've been through? My life is already messed up and it's barely even begun. 

---

Eventually, all my clothes and posessions have been packed neatly into the giant suitcase I was provided with when I first moved into this dump. All that was left was the photo I had by my bedside table. The photo I treasure and plan to forever. It's a photograph of my Mum, Dad and I just a month before the disaster that tore them from life. It's the only photo I have of them. The only memory I have of them. That photo is the only thing that keeps me going nowadays. I always kiss it before I go to my bed everynight and I sometimes even speak to it. Silly, I know but it's the closest thing I have to my parents. 

My left hand reaches out and grasps the edge tightly then I slowly pick it up and hold it in front of my face before placing a kiss in the centre. 

" Hopefully this family will accept me," I whisper to it. 

Sighing, I place it carefully in my suitcase then flip the lid over and zip it up before allowing a small smile to linger on my lips. Another new beginning. Let's just hope it's a good one. 

---

" Taylor, Maura is here to pick you up," Mike, my social worker, informed me whilst sticking his head round my door. I nod towards him before dragging my suitcase off my bed and onto the floor. " Let me get that for you," Mike insisted, gripping onto the handle. 

" Thanks," I mumbled. 

" Taylor, listen to me," He murmured. I stopped in my tracks and swivelled around to face him. " Please don't mess this up," He pleaded. 

" Maybe if the families that fostered me were actually nice to me then I would be nice to them," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

" Maybe if you gave them a chance instead of causing mayhem then they would give you a chance," He sighed, rubbing at his frowns. I turn away and roll my eyes again before thumping down the stairs to meet my new foster mother. 

---

As I approach the bottom of the stairs, I notice a small lady with short, dirty blonde hair admiring the art work that lit up the hallway. She soon notices me and her warm chocolate eyes light up with excitement. Her lips curve up into a genuine smile as well then she extends her arm out, offering me to shake her hand. I slip my opposite hand into hers and shake it politely.

" Hello dear, you must be Taylor," She beams, speaking with a thick irish accent.

" Yeah, i'm Taylor," I confirm with a small smile. 

" Wow, it's nice to finally meet you!" She enthuses. " Im Maura by the way."

" Hello, and er it's nice to meet you too," I respond nervously.

Mike appears at the bottom of the stairs with my suitcase and a large grin spread across his face, liking the fact that we had introduced ourselves. 

" Well I guess this is good-bye Taylor. Don't worry though, we'll visit you every so often and you're always welcome to come back here and see us," He explained with a grin. 

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