Emma

Happy Birthday

Bang, bang, bang.

The pounding on my door woke me up out of a dead sleep. My room was still dark, the moonlight streamed in though the window. I rolled over in my creaky bed with itchy sheets to look at the little alarm clock on my makeshift nightstand. The numbers read 4:55. I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Emma, you better get up you lazy girl!" A harsh female voice yelled though my door. The lady who was yelling is my foster mother, or I should say the warden. I should be used to her by now. I had only dealt with her for 10 years but still she makes me cringe.

"I'm up" I yelled back trying not to sound to sleepy. I was to be up every morning at 5am but it being 5 minutes early wouldn't be a good enough excuse.

I came here when I was 7 years old. My parents disappeared when I was younger than that. Everyone assumed they're dead. I don't remember them to clearly and the memories I do have don't make enough sense to be real. I have memories of things like wolves, and people who's eyes glowed different colors when emotions get high and just of crazy impossible things. Anyone I told would blow it off as an "overactive imagination". A therapist I used to see said it was my childish way of "protecting" myself from the traumas I must have gone though. I don't know what is up with my brain but clearly at 17 and turning 18 in a few days I know nothing I "remember" is real.

I don't remember being found either but I can read. According to the news paper I was estimated to be about 3 when I stumbled out of the woods and into the road. No one was sure how I survived but lucky me I guess I did. A few miles from where I was picked up they found a camp sight that I must have came from. The camp was turned upside down by some animal attack, the campers gone. They tried to find my parents or some relative but no one came up to clame me. I didn't have any documents they could find with a name or birthday so they took their best guess. I was put at 3 and picked a random day to be my birthday and they made me all new documents like a birth certificate and social security card. I got a new name too. Emma Woods. Apparently whoever named me has a sense of humor.

After I was found I was passed from foster home to foster home. Most of the time staying less than a year. Apparently I was a hardheaded child and I didn't get along with the other children. My temper was short and I became extremely possessive over the things that were mine. The last home I was in at just 7 years old I punched a boy who was 10 and broke his nose. The scuffle happened because he took my crayons. I was removed from the home that night and brought straight here.

Somone was at my door again pounding it with their fist. "I'm coming!" I snapped and immediately regretted it. That tone was going to get me in trouble. I got up and turned on my lights. My room or I guess I should say closet was small. The walls were a plane cream color and held no pictures or art. There were 3 pieces of furniture in the room. A small dresser that held all the clothes I owned, my bed that was worn out and squeaky, and my home made nightstand I made out of some wood scraps I found laying around.

I walked to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans, a gray tshirt, and plain white ankle socks. I changed quickly and pulled on my cheap white tennis shoes. Walking quietly hoping to avoid anyone I ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. I turned to look in the mirror at my sleep deprived face. My green eyes looked tired and dark circles sat underneath them. My thick auburn hair laid in matted mess.

Grabbing my brush I went to work yanking out the tangles until it was smooth waves again and brushed my teeth. I took one last look in the mirror and give my reflection a disgusted look. People have told me before I could be a pretty even a gorgeous girl if I would put any "effort" in my looks. My ivory skin had a nice contrast to my dark hair and my eyes were almost a golden green. I was also tall and had a decent shape but with the clothes I had it's not like anyone could tell.