Adopting Science

Ashley Dawson hated her life. Her father was abusive. She tries to make it through but just can't. Her science teacher Mr. Evans is here to the rescue. He saves her from her abusive father and adopts Ashley.

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4. Chapter 4


Today they are letting me leave. With him. I don't want to accept the fact that I have to call him dad. It's been almost a month. I think. He hasn't visited because he has to teach. I think it's his lunch break. The nurse wraps up my shoulder and ribs with lots of gauze. I start to get into my clothes that I came in. I loved this outfit and now it's stained with blood. Mr. Evans walks in.
"did you kill him?"
"Ashley."
"did you?"
"yes, because he would have killed you if I didn't. The police understood and so did CPS. They thought I would be good at protecting you, so I adopted you."
"but I didn't say you could adopt me."
"when your a foster kid you have no choice."
"I would have been fine in the foster home."
"so. At least you have a nice home now."
"I liked my home. I didn't like my dad but I liked my home."
"we'll talk later. I need to get back to work."
"I'm not going to school. I need to get my stuff from HOME!"
"fine. My wife will take you."
"What do I call you?"
"Dad."
"Ok. Mr. Evans."
He presses his lips together as if not to say something. He shakes his thought and leads me out of the room. I can't believe he killed my father. The only blood I have left in the world. I think. He puts his hand on my lower back gently. I squirm at his touch. I notices and drops his hand. My boots are squeaking against the stone floor. We squeak down the hall in silence.

I pick up my clothes out of the box and shove them into a large duffle bag that she gave me. I just keep shoving the clothes in. I walk into the bathroom and grab my brush, my makeup, my hair curler, all that stuff. Noah is helping me pack. Mainly because he feels bad and I have a hurt shoulder. He comes over with a handful of clothes. I realize its all my bras and underwear. I flush crimson. He looks as if it doesn't bother him. He just shoves them in my bag. I pick up one of my dads red shirts. It could be a night gown for me. I neatly fold it put it in the bag.
"Your taking his shirt?"
I fraction of a smile creeps up on me.
"Yeah."
My voice is all rigid.
"So you must have some good memories of him?"
"Some. Yeah."
I walk into his room. There is like a shrine of mom. A small little oval frame holds a family picture of us in a grassy field. I must have been 9. There both holding my hands. Smiles and such. I take it. There is a diamond ring. Silver band, square cut, colorless, and beautiful. I quickly slip it on my finger. Perfect fit. She must have had small fingers. We finish packing. It ends up being like two bags. I didn't know I had so much stuff. I climb into the back seat with Noah. He hands me my sunglasses. A laugh escapes me. I gently slide them on. Mrs. Evans doesn't talk much.

We get to his house in minutes. What should I call it? There house, my house, there home, or my home? I don't know yet. Noah Carey's both bags inside.
"You'll have to sleep in Noah's room for a few weeks until we can find you a room."
"Come roomy. I'll show you around. We drop my bags off in his room. Light blue walls white carpet. His bed is black. He quickly picks up boxers and shoes and such off his floor.
"Sorry I wasn't really expecting this."
His cheeks are crimson too. I smile. He shows me around. It's a standard cookie cutter house.
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