2 (One Year Later)
I walked into the house and closed the door behind me. I got a snack and walked into my room, closing that door, too. I turned up the music in my headphones, making it impossible to hear anyone that would try to talk to me. I laid down on my bed, focusing on the music. I didn't even bother to look at the snack, I tossed it to the side.
I felt someone tapping on me. I opened my eyes and saw my foster mother, Miranda, standing above me. I pulled my earphones out and looked at her.
"Will you come in the living room, please?"
I stood up, without a word, and walked in the living room. My foster father, Blake, and their nine year old son, Austin, were sitting on the couch. Miranda joined them and I sat down on the recliner.
"Madison, we're worried about you." Blake said.
"Your English teacher called and said that she was worried you'd been.. Hurting yourself.." Miranda said with a strong parent tone.
"What does that mean, Daddy?" Austin asked.
"It means she thinks I've been cutting myself." I said harshly. Austin was confused. "They think I'm trying to kill myself." Austin's brown eyes looked hurt. "And I'm not." I said gently.
They seemed to surprised to hear me finally talk, but were offended by my words.
"I know that with everything that's happened with your mom, you're hurt and confused. But I just want to help you." Miranda said with tears forming in her light blue eyes.
I didn't want to hear anymore. "I'm fine." I got up and picked up my keys off the counter and walked to my car. No one ran after me, but I wasn't expecting them to. I started the car and began to drive, not sure where. I just knew I needed to get away.