No One Called the Devil a Liar

“We found a new home for you.” Officer Taylor tells me.
“I don’t want to live in another foster home.”
“You only have a year left in the system. It really isn’t a foster home. And it’s better to just go stay with them until you’re eighteen.” He says. I sigh.
“Can I get my things from Leif’s place?” I ask and Taylor nods.
“I’ll take you there before we go to your new home.”

~~

Being at Leif’s apartment is bittersweet. I miss this place already and it’s only been three days. I miss him. I don’t know how this new home will be. I hope I like the people; I don’t know much about them.
I get out of the car and Officer Taylor walks me up the stairs to the front door.
“I’m going to stay out here and let you have some space. Please only take the things that belong to you, everything else now belongs to his family.” He says. I nod and he unlocks the door for me to go in. I go inside and walk to his bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed. I pick up the comforter and bring it to my nose to take in the scent. I lay it back on the bed and walk to the closet. I pick out my few shirts and pants then make my way to the dresser. While looking through the dresser I spot a little black book. I pick it up and open it up to a page. I skim over the words. It’s a journal. It’s Leif’s journal.
“Are you almost ready?” Taylor calls from down the hall. I quickly slip the journal into the bag with my clothes. I pull the blanket off the bed and begin folding it when Officer Taylor walks in. He gives me a funny look.
“I just need one thing of his.” I plead. He shrugs.
“Nobody has to know.” He says with a sheepish smile. “Come on.” He says and leads me out of the apartment. He locks the door and we walk down to his car. We get in and begin the long drive to wherever I will be living next.

~~

The drive is long and boring. On the way, Officer Taylor tells me about the family. They are the Lione family. The man is Alex and his wife is Charlotte. They have two sons of their own. Brandon is the older son and Jaksin is the younger one. Brandon just entered his twenties. He attends Washington State University and lives on campus but comes home every weekend. Jaksin is closer to my age. He is seventeen and goes to Ferris High School, which is where I will be attending. They are a wealthy family. Alex owns restaurants across the country. They just recently got their foster licenses and I will be their first foster kid.
We pull into the driveway of a very nice brick house . The couple is standing on the front porch when we arrive. They are young looking, and both very handsome. The man is tall with a strong build. He has a dark brown hair that is slightly greying and a 5 o’clock shadow. The women medium height, lean, and has a short red bob. They both look excited.
“Wait here for a moment.” Officer Taylor says and gets out of his car. I watch as he walks up to the family and talks for a moment. He waves me over. I grab my things out of the back seat and walk over to them.
“Hi Dyllan, I’m Alex and this is my wife Charlotte.” Alex says and holds his hand out towards me. I shake it then shake Charlotte’s hand.
“Well, I need to be going.” Officer Taylor says. “Give me a call if you need anything. And Dyllan, be good.” He says. I give him a small smile and he leaves.
“Would you like to come in?” Charlotte asks. I nod and follow them inside.
The inside of the house is just as nice as the outside. The foyer is open and leads to the living room , the office , and the kitchen and dining area. It also had a staircase that lead up to my room , Jaksin’s room, and Brandon’s room. Alex and Charlotte’s room is in the basement along with a T.V. room . Through the kitchen is the backyard . The backyard has a patio area with a table and grill and a small pool and spa. Their house is the nicest house I have seen. I follow them outback where a small group of people are in and around the pool. Nobody notices for the first few moments.
“Jaksin, come here.” Alex says and a boy with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes stands and walks towards us. He’s a bit shorter than Alex, but they are similar look wise. Jaksin is lean, not muscular, but not boney.
“This is Dyllan. Dyllan, this is our youngest son, Jaksin.” He gives me a nod, and I force a smile, but I know it came out awkwardly.
“So um, you can hang out with them, or just wander the house, or whatever you want really.” Charlotte says. Jaksin walks back to his friends.
“I’ll probably just go up to the bedroom.” I reply. She smiles and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Whatever you like,” She says with a warm smile. I begin to walk away when she starts to say something. I stop in the door way and turn around. “Our other son, Brandon will be here in about an hour for dinner. I hope you will join us.” She says. I nod and glance over at the boys at the pool. I catch them staring for a moment before they all look away. I walk upstairs to my room.
It’s a simple area. My bags are set on the edge of the bed. The walls are covered in weird wallpaper that makes the room look a bit retro. There are shelves around the room filled with old looking books and various pictures of animals and places. There are a few dressers and a door that leads to a bathroom. I open my bags and begin unpacking. I open the top drawer of one of the dressers only to discover that it is already filled with clothes. I open one of the other drawers to find that it too is filled with clothes. I sit on the bed, a little confused but let it pass. I figure they were told I was coming with very few things and thought they could be helpful.
I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the floor. A lot has changed in the last forty-eight hours, and I don’t think it’s really set yet. I remember the journal in my bag and start looking for it. I find it buried underneath some clothes and pull it out. It’s a brown leather journal with a tie wrapped around it multiple times.
I begin to untie the journal when I stop myself. Should I really look at it? It’s not mine, and I didn’t get permission to look at it, but he’s gone now. It really is the only thing I have left of him. The journal and his blanket. I reach over my bags and place my hand on the blanket. I run my fingers over the fabric and hold it in my hand. He’s gone. He’s really gone. The rest of it, I mean, everything else that has come out of him leaving is surreal. I almost feel like I’ve dreamt up the last couple days. Maybe I am still dreaming.