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   Chapter 1 Starting Over Again.

The Gang Leader's Girl By Makayla Scott Characters: 6571

Updated: 2018-06-21 02:59


"When you can no longer think of a reason to continue, you must think of a reason to start over."

- Linda Poindexter

************************************************

"Okay, here's your plane ticket. It's a one way, nonstop fight." Cassy, my social worker, said handing me the ticket.

"Wait, I'm traveling by myself? Is that even legal?" I asked confused.

"You're 17 Mia, in a few months, you'll be 18. It's not illegal for you to ride on a plane by yourself." She explained to me.

"Where am I going exactly?" I asked her, looking down at the piece of paper. I've been in and out fosters homes for the past ten years and never had I have to fly on a plane before.

"Colorado." She smiled lightly.

"COLORADO?" I practically yelled, shocked. That's halfway across the country!

"Why am I being shipped off to Colorado?" I continue, looking up at Cassy. Silently praying she'll reconsider.

"There are plenty of foster homes here, in Manhattan, " I argued, not giving her a chance to speak.

"You'll be going to a great home Mia." She looked down at me sadly.

What am I? Some kind of homeless dog? I don't care about going to a "great home" I just wanted to go somewhere I wouldn't get beat for breaking some impossible rule that a foster person had set.

"Yeah, that's what you said the day before you put me in the Rockwell's house." I laughed sarcastically.

The sad expression on her face instantly made me regret what I said. I might not be able to control how people treat me, but I could control the way I treat them. And honestly, if I set out just to hurt others, how does that make me any better than the Rockwells' or any other crude person?

"Look, Mia, I'm sorry. I don't have very much say as to where you're placed, however, all things considered, the house you're going to is for kids your age. The woman you're going to has never been in jail, nor have any of the kids been reported with cuts or bruises." She said trying to convince me that this family would be different from all the rest.

"What's her name?" I sighed in defeat.

I should at least knew some information about this lady before I arrived. Because fighting was pretty much useless, I was going regardless of my thoughts and concerns.

I can't really blame Cassy either. For the past two years, she's been my caseworker. She was one of the rare ones that actually listened when you tried to explain what was happening in the foster home. I knew she wouldn't purposefully try to put me in harm's way.

"Rose MacDymke (mac dim-kee), here take this." She told me trying to hand over the file.

"Don't you need this?" I watched her confused.

"It's fine, we have copy's back at the office." Cassy smiled, shaking the file for me to grab.

Don't mind if I do I thought to myself. It couldn't hurt knowing about the people i'm about to meet.

"Gate A18 to Colorado Springs will be open for boarding in 20 minutes, " A voice said over the intercom.

"That's you, A social worker was going to pick up from the airport, but Mrs. MacDymke insisted it be her that brought you to the house. There is a picture of her in the file."

I nodded my head and was about to walk away and go stand in the line for the Colorado flight when Cassy called after me.

"Oh w

ait! Mia come back, I almost forgot." Cassy rushed out.

I turned back around and watched as she pulled out an old brown, leathered journal, my journal. I started writing in it after my mom died, and I was placed in my first foster home. It was a way to cope I guess. That small book held some of my deepest and darkest feeling and memories.

"I know you don't have any clothes or belonging with you anymore. But I did find your journal in Martha and Jame's room. I thought you'd want it."

I forgot that Mrs. Rockwell took it from me one night after she caught me writing in it. I looked everywhere for it! I had just thought she had thrown it away. I quickly opened it, flipping through the pages for the only thing that made this journal worth anything. Skimming along the old, dirty pages I finally saw it. Tears flooded my vision. It was a photograph of my mother and I from when I was seven. It was the last thing I had of her.

"Thank you." I looked up Cassy, fighting the tears away.

"It's no problem, Mia." She smiled wholeheartedly at me.

"fifteen minutes until gate A18 to Colorado opens." The announcement boomed through the airport speakers, startling me.

"I better get going." I whispered, my voice cracked slightly.

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

I just nodded my head and walked away.

I always take care of myself.

...

Finally finding my seat on the plane I'm pleased to see I have the window seat. Turns out that a nonstop flight from New York to Colorado takes about four an half to five hours. So I and this window are going to be well acquainted. I was so deep into thought that I almost missed the presence that sits down next to me. I tried to look over at the person without making it obvious, but I'm pretty sure I failed horribly.

It was a man, probably mid-forties or early fifties. He was dress in a black suit with matching glossy shoes. I immediately felt self-conscious in my ripped jeans and a plain white shirt that Cassy had given me before I left. The man beside me seemed to be dripping with pride and authority, it was intimidating, to say the least.

I promptly turned my head to look back out the window, cause I didn't want the man to think I was staring at him. I gazed down at my lap and saw Mrs. MacDymke file. I did have some time I needed to kill, so I opened the folder.

Name: Rosalind MacDymke.

Sex: Female.

Age: 38 years old.

Location: Colorado Springs.

Biological Kids: 0

Foster Kids: 8

Axel Deacon: 18 years old.

Rylan Summers: 17 years old.

Phoenix Richmond: 19 years old.

Indy Richmond: 16 years old.

Wyatt Harrison: 17 years old.

Angelo Hernandez: 18 years old.

Camila Hernandez: 18 years old.

Kina McGee: 17 years old.

I never lived in a house with so many teenagers before. Usually, it's kids around the age of eight and nine. This was definitely going to be interesting. Mrs. MacDymke picture showed she was a thin woman, with medium length blonde hair. She had forest green eyes and a bright smile that reminded me of my mother.

A sudden wave a drowsiness washed over me. I closed the folder and decided it was probably best for me to sleep before I touched down in Colorado.

Because when I wake up it'll be time to start all over again.

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