Defining Family

Chapter 5

I'm sitting next to Samantha at the kitchen table while she eats cut up grapes from the plate in front of her. I turn a little in my chair to watch Anna bending over the stove. The smell of garlic and chicken fills my nose. I laugh silently. How is it possible that I escaped a nightmare and ended up in a dream.

A warm dinner, kind people and a bedroom all to my self. These are the things that lived in my dreams. I feel like pinching myself. I don't deserve this, being worthless has been so ingrained in my mind, the thought that someone, anyone would even think to say different seems impossible. Yet it's happening, this family, they think I'm worth saving.

I blink hard, kicking myself for letting my mind wonder to such dark places. I can't let these people see how truly broken I am. It would ruin everything.

Samantha starts to scream and I flinch away, burying my face in my hands. Anna voice is calm as she walks over, "Madison, it's okay. She just ran out of food. Don't worry."

My cheeks flush red, "Sorry," I mutter and look up.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Anna says reaching down to pick up Samantha, "Shhh," she coos to the little girl, "It's okay. Can you ask me nicely for more fruit, please?"

"More please," Samantha hiccups.

"Good job," Anna says gently, planting a kiss on Sam's wet cheek, before setting her down on the counter where she can watch her food being cut up.

I stare, at any of my other foster homes that scene would have played out very differently. Probably ending in me, Samantha, or both of us getting slapped, or worse. But this one's different.

Slowly I start to relax again, Samantha is settled back in her high chair and Anna is back at the stove. Suddenly a squeaky noise makes my ears prick. I've learn to pick up on quiet sounds that might hint at someone coming. When I realize it's the front door, I tense.

A young man walks into the kitchen, a small briefcase in one hand, he smiles easily at us.

"Daddy!" screams Samantha, joyfully.

"How's my precious girl?" He asks, laughing and swinging her up into his arms. She wraps her arms around his neck. He smiles gently at me, "Hello, I'm Dylan Mills."

"Madison," I whisper. I can't decide whether I should be afraid. I'm not used to this much kindness, it makes me nervous.

He smiles at me and then turns to his wife who has a laughing smile in her eyes. She walks over and kisses his cheek and he slips his arm around her shoulder, like it is the most natural thing in the world. Watching them standing there, I feel a stab of pain in my gut. You don't belong here, a tiny voice in my head whispers.
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Dinner is delicious, I savor every bite of the hot, flavorful food. It's been a while since I've had a meal like this. I don't talk much, just listen, I don't want to intrude. Anna and Dylan talk about their days. Samantha giggles and babbles along with them. Then there's me, quiet and nervous. Barely managing to ask, "Can you pass the potatoes."

You don't belong here, the voice again insists. I shake me head ever so slightly. Go away, I think.

After dinner Dylan takes Samantha upstairs for a bath and PJs. "Would you like help with the dishes?" I ask.

Anna looks at my and pauses, thinking, "Sure. Thank you."

I walk over and start rinsing. We don't talk, just work in compatible silence. When the dishes are done Anna dries her hands, and turns to the stairs. I feel like this is a tradition, a daily ritual, family dinner, Anna washes the dishes, while Dylan starts bath time and Anna goes to help him when she's done. They are the picture perfect family, with a perfect rhythm. I'm a blip in an otherwise perfect place. The out of place outsider, the one who will never belong in a place like this.

Anna turns around and looks at me, unsure what to do. "Um, I might go get ready for bed. It's been a long day." I say. I want her to know that I don't want to mess up her perfect life, I'll do my best to stay out of the way as long as I'm here.

Anna nods at me and smiles, "Feel free to come find us if you need anything." She starts back to the stairs, "Oh, there are some clean towels on your bed."

"Thanks," I whisper and follow her up the stairs.

When I reach the door to my bedroom, I pull it open and see there is a pile of clean, fluffy, white towels resting on the bed. Tears fill my eyes and I don't even know why.

I sink down on the soft mattress, smoothing my hand over the blanket. I close my eyes and pray. I don't usually believe in god. If there really was someone up there taking care of us, then how could all these terrible things happen. But right now I figure I have nothing to lose. "Please let me stay here, even just for a little while. I'm so tired of moving around and of being afraid. I just need a break. So let me stay here."

The clock reads 7:55. I yawn, I wasn't lying when I said it had been a long day, and I barely got any sleep last night. I change quickly before crawling under the covers. I curl into a ball and close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. For the longest time I lay there, staring at the clean white ceiling, until finally sleep overtakes me around 9:30.

My last thought is, you don't belong here. The thing is, I recognize the voice. I know exactly where it comes from.