Throw Away Kids
Michelle Adams
The summer months had disappeared as the cold weather began to set in. It was now nearing the end of November, and even though they were in the California bay area it was still cold. An old Volks Wagon drove up the street towards a house. Inside of the beat up car was a small preteen who was holding onto a brown paper bag. The driver momentarily glanced over at the girl who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. Glancing back at the road, he made a turn into a driveway and lightly pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a complete stop. The jolt of the car stopping brought the girl out of her thoughts. She blinked a few times before resting her green eyes on the house.
"Alissa, this is your new home," the man cooed as he opened the driver side door and slid outside. Alissa smiled softly as she opened her door and slid out of the seat. She sighed as the man walked her up to the front door before knocking. Movement was heard from the inside as the door slowly swung open, revealing a pleasant looking woman.
"Why hello there. You must be Alissa," the woman said in a cheery voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Alissa answered meekly.
"Come in, come in," the woman said as she stepped aside and ushered Alissa and her social worker into the warm house.
"In case you didn't know, my name is Michelle Adams. But you can call me mom," Michelle said with a bright smile. Alissa nodded her head and looked over the inside of the small, one-story house.
"Would you like me to show you your new room?" Michelle asked softly. Alissa nodded her head eagerly, her strawberry blonde hair falling freely from behind her shoulders. She had grown tired of carrying her belongings in the paper bag she was holding and couldn't wait to set it down. She followed after her new 'mother' and was led down a small hallway. They came to a halt in front of a door that was at the end of the long room. Slowly, Mrs. Adams opened the bedroom door to reveal a blue room inside. Alissa stepped into the room and looked around in awe. On the far side of the room was a canopy bed with dark crimson curtains. Near the door was a a cherry oak dresser with a desk beside it.
"You like your room?" Michelle asked with a smile.
"I love it," Alissa said as she set the paper bag down on the desk. She reached inside and pulled out a singed stuffed animal. She set it down on the bed as Michelle and her social worker went out of the room to talk. As she unpacked the rest of her clothes that she had recieved at the group home and put them away in the dresser, she over heard their conversation. They were talking about her past. How her parents died in a horrible fire and how only she survived. Everything in the house had been burned except for four things- Alissa's stuffed animal, her guitar, one of the family pictures, and of course, Alissa. Silently, she slipped out of the room and walked into the living room, towards the front door.
"Sweetie, where are you going?" Michelle asked.
"My guitar's in the car," Alissa answered as she slipped outside and stepped over to the old Volks Wagon. She opened the left rear door and grabbed onto the neck of her white guitar. The nylon strings were singed and almost melted apart, but some how it was still playable. The white coloring on the body of the guitar was charred and black. It was in need of a good cleaning and new strings. She grabbed it by the fraying strap and hoisted it over her left shoulder before stepping away from the car and shuting the door. The cold wind blew around her, whipping her hair in front of her pale face and sending a chill through her body. She quickly stepped into the house and walked passed the two adults in the living room. She walked into her room and set her charred guitar in the corner near the bed. She heard her door open to reveal her social work.
"Hey Alissa. If you ever need me, call this number and ask for Brian Saurber," her social worker said with a smile.
"Okay sir," Alissa said with a smile as Brian handed her a small business card. She took it and set it down on the desk before sitting back on the bed. Her social worker waved goodbye as he stepped out of the room and walked away, leaving Alissa alone to her thoughts. Was she going to be happy here? Was this going to last? Only time will tell.
"Alissa, this is your new home," the man cooed as he opened the driver side door and slid outside. Alissa smiled softly as she opened her door and slid out of the seat. She sighed as the man walked her up to the front door before knocking. Movement was heard from the inside as the door slowly swung open, revealing a pleasant looking woman.
"Why hello there. You must be Alissa," the woman said in a cheery voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Alissa answered meekly.
"Come in, come in," the woman said as she stepped aside and ushered Alissa and her social worker into the warm house.
"In case you didn't know, my name is Michelle Adams. But you can call me mom," Michelle said with a bright smile. Alissa nodded her head and looked over the inside of the small, one-story house.
"Would you like me to show you your new room?" Michelle asked softly. Alissa nodded her head eagerly, her strawberry blonde hair falling freely from behind her shoulders. She had grown tired of carrying her belongings in the paper bag she was holding and couldn't wait to set it down. She followed after her new 'mother' and was led down a small hallway. They came to a halt in front of a door that was at the end of the long room. Slowly, Mrs. Adams opened the bedroom door to reveal a blue room inside. Alissa stepped into the room and looked around in awe. On the far side of the room was a canopy bed with dark crimson curtains. Near the door was a a cherry oak dresser with a desk beside it.
"You like your room?" Michelle asked with a smile.
"I love it," Alissa said as she set the paper bag down on the desk. She reached inside and pulled out a singed stuffed animal. She set it down on the bed as Michelle and her social worker went out of the room to talk. As she unpacked the rest of her clothes that she had recieved at the group home and put them away in the dresser, she over heard their conversation. They were talking about her past. How her parents died in a horrible fire and how only she survived. Everything in the house had been burned except for four things- Alissa's stuffed animal, her guitar, one of the family pictures, and of course, Alissa. Silently, she slipped out of the room and walked into the living room, towards the front door.
"Sweetie, where are you going?" Michelle asked.
"My guitar's in the car," Alissa answered as she slipped outside and stepped over to the old Volks Wagon. She opened the left rear door and grabbed onto the neck of her white guitar. The nylon strings were singed and almost melted apart, but some how it was still playable. The white coloring on the body of the guitar was charred and black. It was in need of a good cleaning and new strings. She grabbed it by the fraying strap and hoisted it over her left shoulder before stepping away from the car and shuting the door. The cold wind blew around her, whipping her hair in front of her pale face and sending a chill through her body. She quickly stepped into the house and walked passed the two adults in the living room. She walked into her room and set her charred guitar in the corner near the bed. She heard her door open to reveal her social work.
"Hey Alissa. If you ever need me, call this number and ask for Brian Saurber," her social worker said with a smile.
"Okay sir," Alissa said with a smile as Brian handed her a small business card. She took it and set it down on the desk before sitting back on the bed. Her social worker waved goodbye as he stepped out of the room and walked away, leaving Alissa alone to her thoughts. Was she going to be happy here? Was this going to last? Only time will tell.