Paradise Lost

I don't remember much from the crash, just me screaming, my mom's silence, and the sounds of metal crunching against metal. I don't remember blacking out, or being pulled from the car, but I do remember waking up in the hospital, in the I.C.U., all the sounds of machines beeping loudly, obnoxiously. Were they the only things keeping me alive? These machines? I wonder what happens if I press this little red button on the arm of my hospital bed? Can someone bring me some water?

I remember the doctor coming in and telling me that my mother was dead.

I remember me starting to scream and sob, hitting and kicking anyone that tried to touch me. I remember biting one of the nurses so hard she bled.

I remember refusing to speak to anyone.

I remember the social worker coming in a few days later, telling me I had to speak. I didn't talk to her either. I wouldn't talk to anyone. The nurses were real chatty, and it was kind of irritating; didn't they know that after five days, I still wasn't going to talk to them.

I remember being discharged from the hospital, to that damn social worker. I didn't like her, she smelled like antiseptic; too clean. She scared the crap out of me, to be honest. The security guard at the hospital had to carry me out of the hospital and put me in her car; I wasn't going to go with her unless I was forced to.

The lady took me to a building, a big, scary building in Sacramento. I didn't know what it was for; it still hadn't sunk into my brain that I was an orphan, that my mom was dead. I never knew my dad, just that he bailed on my mom when she told him that she was pregnant, and it was his. I didn't even know his name, and if I'm honest, I didn't want to. He sounded like a jerk.

Did I tell you? My name is Nikole Ryan, or Nikkie, I'm fourteen years old, my mom is dead, and I don't have any other family.

Yeah, sucks to be me.



"Nikole?" called the bitch who I'd been living with, oops, I mean, my foster mom, Jackie. I sighed and jumped off of the little twin bed in the little room I'd been given in the Murray household. The social worker said I was lucky to get taken in so quick. I said shoot me now, bitch. Well, I didn't actually say it, since I haven't spoken in the three months since my mom died.

Yeah, that's right. Not one fucking word.

I pulled out my headphones and shoved my iTouch into my pocket; I'd gotten to take all my stuff from home, since I had my own key. Walking as slowly down the stairs as humanly possible, I finally poked my head into the kitchen, catching Jackie's eye and waving at her slightly.

"Set the table, Nikole."

I sighed, hating the use of my first name. Turning away from her, I grabbed five plates from the cabinet and set them as well as all the necessary silverware onto the table, as well as little salad bowls. The Murrays seemed to be all about ettiquette, which was weird, since their 17-year old son, Seth, was the epitome of a pig.

She just rolled her eyes at me, and went back to fixing whatever the hell it was she was making for dinner, and I went back upstairs, heading towards "my" room. But, my path was blocked by the little Murray girl, Hope. "Hi, Mikkie," she said, smiling at me. She was only about four, maybe five, and couldn't pronounce 'N's; it always sounded like an 'M'.

I waved slightly at the little girl, and Hope smiled up at me. "Mikkie, will you play with me? Seth is meam, and he wom't," she said, her smile changing to a frown for a small amount of time. Hope knew I wouldn't say no to her, and she held up her little hand for me to take.

Of course, I took the four-year old's hand, and she led me to her pink and purple princess room. I remember when I loved princesses, and I always wanted to be one. She led me into the room, and plopped down on the little purple and pink zebra carpet that lay on the floor, patting the carpet next to her for me to come sit down by her.

Hope held out a white board and a purple marker for me, knowing I wouldn't speak, but that I would still write. The little girl was a smart cookie, as long as I kept my words simple, she knew exactly what I was saying. Hope held out a pretty Barbie with red hair, saying, "She looks like you, Mikkie." She pressed the doll into my hands. "You're both so pretty," cooed the little girl, a huge smile on her small face.

I smiled at the girl, writing Thank you, pretty princess, on the white board, and Hope clapped. I scooped up a doll that had platinum blonde hair, much like Hope's. You're the prettiest princess I've ever seen, Hope :) I wrote, and placed a tiara on the doll's head. Hope laughed, and I smiled at the little girl. Of all the people in this damnable household, this little girl was so innocent and sweet.

"Hope! Seth! Nikole! Dinner time!" called Mr. Murray up the stairs. I stood up first, and offered Hope my hands; she grasped them and I pulled the little girl to her feet. Not letting go of my hand, Hope pulled me out and down the stairs, straight to the dinner table. She sat in a normal chair, but with a couple big books and a pillow so she could reach the table.

Mr. Murray smiled at his two children, and then shot me a dirty look. "Hope, Seth, Nikole is going to be leaving us tomorrow. Someone adopted her," he told Hope and Seth.

What the fuck? I thought, staring at him.



That night, I packed up my belongings, with little Hope sitting on my bed. "Dom't leave, Mikkie," pleaded the little girl. Even Seth, who'd been nothing but rude to me since he got here frowned at me, looking almost sad.

"Yeah, Niks," he said, using his irritating nickname for me. "I almost like having you here. It's kind of nice to have someone that's not four to tease." Hope glared indignantly at her brother as I wrote on the white board.

Sorry guys, but, I don't think I have a choice, I wrote, and both Seth and Hope sighed.

Seth stepped into my room, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "There's always a choice, Nikkie. But," he paused, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I understand if you want to get away from my parents. They're not very nice to you, and they're pretty cruel about you not talking."

Sighing, I ran a hand through my dark hair, lifting my blue eyes to meet Seth's green. He smiled sadly at me, and removed his arm from my shoulders, walking out of the room. "Goodnight, both of you," he said, and moments later I heard his door close.

Hope remained sitting on my bed, staring at me with gray eyes filled with the innocence of childhood. "Night, Mikkie." She slid off of my bed, closing my door softly behind her.

I was left alone on the floor, surrounded by clothes and little things I'd brought from home, with only my own thoughts to keep me company.