Status: Possible epilogue... but probably not.
Foster's School for the Socially Awkward and Normality Challenged
Meet The Parents
“A-LEX-IAAAAAAAAAAA!” Foster roared, chopping her name into syllables.
“Yes?” Greg answered, smoothing out his skirt.
“I will deal with you later, Greggory. Alexia, this is the last offense I will allow you to commit here. Get out, get out, get OUT!”
“With pleasure” The true Alexia said, taking off her hat and bowing, letting midnight blue hair fall in her face. We all looked on in longing as she went back to her room to pack.
“Now then. Greggory, since I’m positive this was Alexia’s idea, if you change back and apologize you will be free to go. If not, you will placed in solitary confinement for your next two free periods.” He weighed the options in his head, then sat down and crossed his legs, hands folded neatly in his lap.
“Nah, I think pink really makes my eyes pop.” There were so many rules broken after Alexia left. Nearly everyone was trying to get kicked out. Even that little girl kicked Michael in the shin.
Foster had had just about enough of it until she decided to call in our parents. Basically, we would try and find the root of our ‘problem’ to destroy it from there. Like, thought pesticide.
“Evangeline, darling, we missed you, are you feeling any better yet?” My mother cooed, wrapping me into a cold hug. My father stood by, bored.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! Evangeline has been doing incredibly well here, even despite the fact that her first roommate was coming close to corrupting her mind.”
“I feel fine, Mother, I felt fine before, too.” We were pulled back into the dining room where first Greg spoke about being made to go to summer camp at a young age where he was introduced to the abnormal by a few older counselors.
“It just got me thinking, you know? I looked up to them, and what they knew was so different, that I looked up to that, too.”
“So what you’re saying is that at a young and impressionable age you were exposed to things that you shouldn’t have been, and this stuck with you through all these years.”
“Yeah, I guess. I still don’t see a problem with it though.” The woman sitting next to him smacked his arm. “Ow! Ma, it’s still your fault for sending me to camp instead of letting me play video games all summer.”
“We’ll continue to work on that, Greggory. Now. Dante, how do you think you turned into who you are today?” Dante shrugged, sitting as far away from his parents as possible.
“I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve never liked people coming close to me. I don’t think there’s a real reason.”
“Dante, there’s always a reason.” Foster explained slowly.
“Uh, Dad, do you know?”
“I think it all started when-” Dante’s father then launched into an incredibly detailed but still incredibly boring account of visiting relatives and illness.
“Alright then, Evangeline, why don’t you go?”
“It was my parent’s fault, obviously.” I said nonchalantly. “They were never around, so I acted out. Then I realized that I actually liked all the stuff I was doing to get back at them. The only thing that really stuck with me with me though was the music."
“Evangeline! How could you possibly say what you’ve become is OUR fault?” My mother demanded.
“Think back. Were you there, for any of my birthdays? Any of my piano recitals? Any holidays? Did you ever once, tell me you loved me, come into my room to say goodnight? That can really screw up a kid, did you know that? You’re lucky I’m not a sociopath. I don’t even know why I bothered listening to you.”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way!” My father interjected.
“I’m talking to the both of you, actually."
“Mrs. Foster, I believe we’ll have to come up with arrangements about Evangeline’s living place. We were discussing earlier how it may be more beneficial that she simply stay with you until she’s of legal age to move out, and this outburst has proven that fact.”
They stalked off without another word. Mrs. Foster actually looked sympathetic for a moment. Then she moved right onto Karen.
“Yes?” Greg answered, smoothing out his skirt.
“I will deal with you later, Greggory. Alexia, this is the last offense I will allow you to commit here. Get out, get out, get OUT!”
“With pleasure” The true Alexia said, taking off her hat and bowing, letting midnight blue hair fall in her face. We all looked on in longing as she went back to her room to pack.
“Now then. Greggory, since I’m positive this was Alexia’s idea, if you change back and apologize you will be free to go. If not, you will placed in solitary confinement for your next two free periods.” He weighed the options in his head, then sat down and crossed his legs, hands folded neatly in his lap.
“Nah, I think pink really makes my eyes pop.” There were so many rules broken after Alexia left. Nearly everyone was trying to get kicked out. Even that little girl kicked Michael in the shin.
Foster had had just about enough of it until she decided to call in our parents. Basically, we would try and find the root of our ‘problem’ to destroy it from there. Like, thought pesticide.
“Evangeline, darling, we missed you, are you feeling any better yet?” My mother cooed, wrapping me into a cold hug. My father stood by, bored.
“Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson! Evangeline has been doing incredibly well here, even despite the fact that her first roommate was coming close to corrupting her mind.”
“I feel fine, Mother, I felt fine before, too.” We were pulled back into the dining room where first Greg spoke about being made to go to summer camp at a young age where he was introduced to the abnormal by a few older counselors.
“It just got me thinking, you know? I looked up to them, and what they knew was so different, that I looked up to that, too.”
“So what you’re saying is that at a young and impressionable age you were exposed to things that you shouldn’t have been, and this stuck with you through all these years.”
“Yeah, I guess. I still don’t see a problem with it though.” The woman sitting next to him smacked his arm. “Ow! Ma, it’s still your fault for sending me to camp instead of letting me play video games all summer.”
“We’ll continue to work on that, Greggory. Now. Dante, how do you think you turned into who you are today?” Dante shrugged, sitting as far away from his parents as possible.
“I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve never liked people coming close to me. I don’t think there’s a real reason.”
“Dante, there’s always a reason.” Foster explained slowly.
“Uh, Dad, do you know?”
“I think it all started when-” Dante’s father then launched into an incredibly detailed but still incredibly boring account of visiting relatives and illness.
“Alright then, Evangeline, why don’t you go?”
“It was my parent’s fault, obviously.” I said nonchalantly. “They were never around, so I acted out. Then I realized that I actually liked all the stuff I was doing to get back at them. The only thing that really stuck with me with me though was the music."
“Evangeline! How could you possibly say what you’ve become is OUR fault?” My mother demanded.
“Think back. Were you there, for any of my birthdays? Any of my piano recitals? Any holidays? Did you ever once, tell me you loved me, come into my room to say goodnight? That can really screw up a kid, did you know that? You’re lucky I’m not a sociopath. I don’t even know why I bothered listening to you.”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way!” My father interjected.
“I’m talking to the both of you, actually."
“Mrs. Foster, I believe we’ll have to come up with arrangements about Evangeline’s living place. We were discussing earlier how it may be more beneficial that she simply stay with you until she’s of legal age to move out, and this outburst has proven that fact.”
They stalked off without another word. Mrs. Foster actually looked sympathetic for a moment. Then she moved right onto Karen.