I peered outside of the limousine window, watching as the dark rain of London fell in heavy, blustery sheets if water. It slid down raincoats and bounced off the colorful umbrellas of the people who were still outside before hitting the sidewalks, darkening them a depressing grey.
I had this theory about rain. I believed that the world was trying to get rid of all the bad things: Cancer, Killing, Drugs, etc. but it just can't for some odd reason so it just starts crying, giving birth to the rain. I admit, it wasn't a good theory but it was just something mystical to believe in just for the fun of it.
"Do you like the rain, Ms. Swing?" The chauffeur asks me, a weak attempt to start a conversation with me. His glossy blue eyes peek at me through the rear-view mirror as he waits, expecting an answer.
I shake my head and went back to looking at the lovely city of London. It was amazingly busy, business was the only thing on mind and it showed. People rushed about, quickly traveling to their destinations as fast as they could.
I pull at a stray thread on my jacket as we turn the corner. I hoped I was dressed appropriately with my light pink floral blouse, my cream brown jacket and my jean skirt with my beige Oxford shoes. I felt as if it was something a proper girl would wear since I really needed a good first impression on my soon-to-be "parents."
I hoped the way I looked would be a good sign too. My chestnut brown hair was in a Bohemian braided bun in a nice ordered fashion while I made sure my face was flawless of any of my imperfections. My skin was a creamy white with a flush of light pink on my big cheeks, my eyes were a smokey blue with the dark black eyeliner rimmed around my waterline and my lips were now a peachy slightly shiny color. I was immaculate, thanks to the cosmetic world of makeup.
I began to play with the heart-shaped golden pendent that rested on my chest as we near the big white mansion that would soon be my home. It was a beautiful, enchanting mansion. It was a smooth, matte white with two pillars that stood in the front of the fancy oak door, supporting part of the second story of the house. It had a big green lawn with a giant water fountain in the inner circle that stood in the center front. It was magical, I admit but I only cared about the people on the inside. You should never judge a book by it's cover as they say.
"Ms. Swing?" The chauffeur, Thomas I believed, asks me as he sees that my sight was captivated by the mansion. I couldn't help it though, it seemed like a dream to be living in here... which made me highly suspicious.
Thomas gets out of the car and goes to open my door. I grab my little purse and give a polite smile at him as I slip out gracefully out of the car. Grace was a speciality of mine, in ballet, grace was the unique key of a good dance and it added a certain rhythm to it that finished the dance with style. You can't have a good dance without grace, whether your skilled in Street, Tap, Modern or Ballet. It really didn't matter.
I felt like Cinderella when she took a first look at the castle. "Be back at midnight or the spell would become undone," Her fairy godmother would scold her. Well, fairy godmother, this is my new home now.
I take the ivory steps slowly, waving goodbye to Thomas, who drove away in the silver limousine after putting my luggage on the steps next to me. I wringed my hands together in slight nervousness. What if they don't like me because I don't speak? I couldn't help but shake my head at the stupid idea, they've met me before and they looked at my profile on my foster agency's website... but what if it was all an act?
I kiss my pendent quickly, asking my parents for good fortune with Mrs. and Mr. Johnson. I knew that they were up there in heaven, being my guardian angels. I believed that being optimistic was the key to good luck so I take a inhale of breath before knocking on the brass eagle hand, trying to think of overly-positive thoughts.
The door opens very slowly, almost sluggish. It reveals a elderly guy in a black tuxedo, on his right arm was a white cloth with the scripted initial, J sewed on it. On the pocket of his tuxedo was the name, Charles woven in it with silver thread. His hooded brown eyes eyed me curiously and his mouth was set in a practiced line.
"Whom may you be?" He asked me, his posh British accent coating his inquisitive tone. He looked like that butler from The Nanny with his brown hair peppered with grey.
I give a bright smile at him, showing my white teeth before opening my purse and pulling out my I.D card I got from my foster agency. I made sure to bring it with me all the time so that my handful of foster parents would know who I am, in case any mistakes got in the way and I have proof of who I am.
Charles looked at me suspiciously one more time before letting me go into the house.
Inside the manor, the walls were off-white matte color; the floors covered in light marble; the fourteen-foot ceiling of the first floor presented in pressed tin. The light colors and gabled windows gave the mansion a light, airy feel to it. Sunlight streaked everywhere, brightening the mansion a little bit more. In the dead center, as soon as you enter, there was a big staircase swirling around in a slight spiral. If you looked past the staircase, there was a living room where two people sat, a middle-aged female and male, a cheerful expression playing on their faces.
"Oh, darling!" I heard the female British lady said. Her hair was shoulder-length and a dark blonde, pulled back with a thin white headband. Her shiny green eyes were chinky, showing her crow's feet. She had pink wide lips which pulled back in a smile. She wore a beige cashmere sweater tied loosely around her long neck, covering her bare shoulders. Her white tank tunic covered her black leggings slightly and her black tennis shoes looked small on her feet.
"Henry, look at her! Doesn't she look like an angel?!" She exclaimed, grasping my shoulders tightly as she appraised me. I could smell the fruity tinge on her breath as well as the Channel No. 5 that seeped in her skin. I give a smile at her, giving her a small, timid hug. I must appear to be happy, optimistic and innocent in order for them to like me but I felt awfully artificial since I was the exact opposite of happy, optimistic and innocent.
The man stood up slowly from the couch, walking lazily to me in an almost smug fashion. He looked like he was in his late-20s with his brown hair was gelled back in a professional manner, gleaming slightly in the light. His eyes were a deep, striking hazel with a ring of grey rimming them. His mouth was set with a smirk, a slight mischief set into it. He wore a navy blue blazer with red lining around it and a red-navy blue striped tie with a white dress shirt. His khakis were slightly baggy but still managed to have polished look about it. I noticed that he was barefoot, which was odd.
"How do you do, Julia." He shakes my hand firmly and nods. I nod back and give him a small smile. Something about him made me think he was a dancer, I don't know if it was the way he carried himself or the way he walked but I had that strong feeling in my gut that always was right.
"I'm Henry and this is my lovely wife, Bella," He says, gesturing to him and his wife. Bella looked like she was about to burst with excitement, her face was a bright red color and her smile was a little too big. She gripped my forearm in a grip that would choke a horse.
"Oh my gosh, your so gorgeous. I give you a tour of your new home, shouldn't I? But... then again, I should get to know you... oh, silly me! I forgot we met already!" She giggled like a little child as she took my hand gently.
I could easily tell that this woman was frazzled by me. Everything from her tight squeezes to her rattled mind told me that she was so excited to the point that she was nervous.
I was exceptionally good at reading body language. Since I didn't speak, I deciphered body language really well so that I could see the truth through people's thick wall of words. It helped me out in someways: I could see whether or not people liked me, I could see if people were intimidated or afraid and it helped me in ballet.
"Thomas, what are you standing there for, you bloody foul? Get the girl's bags for Christ sake!" Henry exclaims, nagging Thomas who was standing next to the door with a stone expression. As soon as he heard his name he turned a crimson red, snapping out of his daze to go outside and pick up my suitcases.
"Take them to Julia's new room," commanded Mr. Johnson, who laid a firm hand on my shoulder. I felt awkwardly intimidated by this man. He had this strong, demanding aura about me that was discomforting. I shrugged away, using the excuse of tying my shoes.
"Oh, honey!" Bella shouted happily, plumping a big fat juicy kiss on Henry's lips. She threw her arm around him, "This is such a beautiful Christmas gift! A young woman!"
She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "We've always wanted a child but sadly... we cannot so as soon as we saw you, we knew you were ours and I love you already! C'mon let's take a tour of your room! Your going to love it!" She declared, taking my arm and practically dragging me up the swirled staircase.
I had a feeling that even though I just met these new and weird parents... I was going to be in for a helluva ride.