Say Cheese!, chapter 1

I packed my miniature suitcase for what seemed like the millionth time in the last week. Maybe this time will be different? Maybe, though I seriously doubt it. Most of the places I've been, it's like a week or less until they finally realize... I am not the child for them. I am not the little twelve year old girl they wanted. They've decided they want a younger one, or a boy. That's usually the excuse. Unless they just decide to be straight with you. Cleo, you're not what we wanted. There's adoptive parents for you. It's like that saying, a dog is for life, not just for Christmas. Well, after about a week, maybe even a fortnight if you're lucky, the novelty wears off. Well, who ever said that life was fair.


Anyway, Rochelle, (the social family care worker as they call her) shouted my name, so I figured that she wanted me and it was time to go. Well, either that, or every time she has a spazz, she calls my name. I dunno. I threw the remainder of things into my bag and poked the big ball of fluff that was collapsed on the bed. It growled slightly, like a teenager, not wanting to get up in the morning.

Except, it wasn't the morning and the ball of fluff wasn't a teenager. It was around 4pm and the ball of fluff was a bull dog. My bull dog. That's right, a bull dog. My best mate. And no, I don't call them girly names like Flower or Buttercup. And he hasn't got some lame name like, Norman or Santa. No, he's called Jimmy. Now, you may class that as a lame name, but, your choice, not mine. I named him after my brother. Even though I hadn't seen him in what, three years.

I'm adopted, if you hadn't already figured that out. Since when I was nine. My mother gave me up for adoption. I was the second youngest out of seven. I was nine, my mother had just had a baby, a little boy named Michael. Then there was the four older brothers and an older sister. And my Mum. Jimmy was thirteen when I left. Then there was Freddie (11), Jake (14), Ben (18) and Louise (16). Louise had it in for me. Probably because she went from being the only girl to being one of two. Jake wasn't kind either. Freddie hung around too much with Jake to like me, and Ben was out too much to notice. Jimmy was the only one who cared. Hell, I miss him.

Three whole years on May 8th. My birthday. I was nine. He'd be 16 now. A grown person already really. They've probably already forgotten about me. Just some little kid who they got rid of because all the others hated me. Horrible things they did. Graffiti my room. Lock me out the house when I came home from school so I'd have to spend the night outside. Even tried to kill me. To get rid of me. Police came, they told me not to tell else they'd kill Bobby. They did anyway. Bobby, my bull mastiff puppy. They slaughtered him. The night before they came, to take me away. I found Jimmy when he was a puppy, about a week after this all happened. They let me keep him, he made me happy. And I've had him to this day. He protects me. Sometimes he's the reason I get sent back. But, I'd rather give up my life than get rid of him. He is my life. Forty adoptions. Forty. In three years. That is some achievement. Apparently, they've found someone for me. I met her, yes, she seems nice. But, then again, they all seemed nice. Must be about ten days since I met her. I just hope they're right this time. Jimmy keeps getting annoyed. Moving here and there. It distresses him.

I poked him again. "Dude, stop being grouchy. We gotta go," I muttered, as my roomy gets annoyed when I talk to the dog.
"You off?" mumbled a voice from the bunk above my bed.
"Mmmhmm," I hummed, poking the dog again.
"You planning on saying goodbye, or are you off without a trace?"
"D'you wanna goodbye?" I replied, as a face appeared from the top of the duvet.
"Depends. Are you willing to give a goodbye?" he asked, smirking.
"I guess I could spare one," I muttered, looking at the ground and smiling. Before I knew it my room buddy, Tom, was off his bed and had his arms wrapped around me.

Tom is my room buddy, as I just said. They don't usually allowed girl/boy rooms, but this was different. We got on. He was still one of the popular ones in the home, whereas I was reseved, loud when you could talk to me and individual. With a head of blonde hair and blue eyes, I suppose Tom is gorgeous, but, we're friends, nothing more.


"I'm gonna miss you," he mumbled into the space behind me.
"I'll miss you too," I said into his shoulder (he's a bit taller than me), attempting to hold back the tears. I failed, making his t-shirt rather wet. My name was called again from downstairs. "I'd better get going," I muttered, forcing a smile. He did too, then, pulling his t-shirt off, handed it to me.
"Keep this yeah? And every time you wear it, think of my lovely, sexy body," he joked, pushing it into my hands. I grasped it and smiled.
"Don't worry, I will," I grinned, picking up my sleeping dog with one arm and my bag with the other, turned towards the door.
"Wait," said Tom suddenly, placing his hand on my shoulder. I turned around, and he placed a kiss on my cheek and handed me a bag. "Take these, yeah. Never forget me. Text me. Write. Anything, Just, don't forget." I took the bag handle between my teeth, as I'd run out of hands.

How could I forget you? I was thinking. I slowly shook my head as the tears began to fall. "And you, you little hell raiser," continued Tom, getting choked up and looking at Jimmy. "Never forget me either." Jimmy seemed to, as daft as it sounds, understand what he said, and licked his hand. He kissed me on the cheek again and pulled me into a brief hug, as my name sounded again from downstairs.
"Bye," I muttered, with the handle in my mouth.
"Bye," he whispered, as multiple tears ran down his cheeks.

I stumbled out of the room and down the stairs, where Rochelle was stood in the open doorway with Martin, the owner and 'headmaster' figure. "So, this is goodbye then. Have a nice time and hope not to see you soon." I sighed and followed Rochelle out to the car.
"Just put all you bags in the trunk. We'll head off as soon as you've done that. Does the little runt have a cage?"
"He is not a runt!" I began to protest... "And no, he doesn't, he can sit up front with me."

She sighed, shaking her head and getting in. I climbed into the passenger seat, with Jimmy still asleep on my knee. As she started the engine, I happened to glance up. In the small window on the first floor, there stood a fourteen year old lad, topless, waving, with red eyes. My heart jumped and I sniffed slightly, as the old house which had been my home for the last three years disappeared out of view. I sunk lower into my seat, as reality began to become clearer. I was moving. I'd never been to Rodeo before. I looked inside the plastic carrier Tom had given me. Inside, it had a poster, amongst other things. I recognised it straight away. His Ramones poster. He loved that poster. No one was allowed to touch it. It meant he cared. After more rummaging through the bag, he'd given me various t-shirts, of his (he had a LOT more clothes than I had as his Dad still visited him and gave him a lot of new clothes) and I was still touched, even though they were only the stuff that was too small for him.

We pulled up outside a small terraced house, with a small front garden, nicely kept. For some reason, my stomach had suddenly decided to take up gymnastics. I shuddered and began to take deep breaths to attempt to calm down. They worked, sort of. I slowly swung my legs out of the car, and regained balance and stood up, clasping Jimmy. I walked around to the boot and grabbed my bag. Rochelle grabbed the carrier and walked to the front door. I gulped, and followed.

I heard the doorbell echo inside the house. It seemed like a small eternity until I heard the key turn in the lock and the door swing open. Inside, stood a woman. "Hello, I'm Mrs Longhorn..." began Rochelle.
"Hello, Mrs Longhorn, come in. Care for a drink? Or two?"
"No, I'm afraid I can't stop. I've come to drop off Cleo." She smiled at me.
"Well, thank you Rochelle. So, Cleo, let me help you with your bags. Do you want a drink?" Rochelle handed her my bags and left. I walked into the hall. It smelt of, well, flowers or something.
"Would you like a drink?"
"No thank you."
"I expect you might want to just sit in your room and get settled in. Am I right?"
I nodded, smiling weakly. She smiled and I followed her up the stairs to a back bedroom. "This is it. It's small, but cosy," she said, flinging to door open to reveal a pleasant room. "Okay?" I nodded.

"Michael's room is across the hall, so if you need anything and I'm out, you know who to ask."
"Michael? Michael? Who's Michael?"
She paused and looked at me like I'd just confessed that I was a serial killer.
"Michael. Michael is my son. He's the same age as you. And if my memory serves me right, he's only four days older then you." I hesitated. I didn't like having brothers and sisters. Especially if they're older or the same age. The younger one's are okay, cos they don't really care, but older...I don't like. "Well, I'll leave you to settle in then. I'll bring your dinner up later."

I nodded and she disappeared downstairs. Glancing across the hall into the room, I saw posters and photos. Being my nosey self, I crept across to see if he was in. The room was empty. I saw a small pile of photo's on the bed. Creeping in, I looked at the top one. It showed two lads. One really tall brunette on, and a shorter one with black hair. Wondering which one was Michael, I went back to my room.

In my view, the plain baby blue walls look way better covered in 'The Ramones' posters. And photos of some of the kids who I made friends with at the home. Some were just staying for a few days on their way some where else, some lived with us. Others moved there, and got 'rehomed'. After putting all my posters and photos up, I was debating whether to put my flag up. It is the flag showing the three legs of mann. I was born in the British Isle you see. In the Isle of Mann. Lovely place. But, when my Mother decided to chuck me, she made the decision to move me to the states. Get as far away from me as possible.

After long deliberation, I did put it up. Then I unpacked my extra pair of jeans (I had one on), and all of my ten t-shirts (6 of them were Tom's). I put the first top that Tom had given me on, and lay on my bed, just thinking. Jimmy was asleep on the floor, so I left him there. After a few moments, I drifted off.

I was awoken by shouting from outside. After realizing where I was, I got up on my knee's on the bed and peeped out the window. By the front porch stood the two lads from the picture. They came into the house. I made sure my door was closed and lay back down again. I wonder if he's nice? Will he like me? Loads of thoughts were running through my head. So many I was giving myself a headache. And the worst thing was, his Mom had gone out. She had left for work about two hours ago, she woke me up to tell me. Won't be back 'til tomorrow morning. Suddenly, the door swung open. The tall guy's head popped in. "Umm . . . Hi, I'm Mike," he said, still hovering.
"Cleo." I mumbled. Sitting up a bit, trying not to make the room look untidy. He nodded slighty.
"Can I come in?"
"Oh, yeah, sure," I began, sitting up and pushing my legs off the side of the bed so he could sit down. He did.

"I like what you've done with the room," he exclaimed, smirking and looking around.
"Thanks."
"So, I guess you're my 'sister' now, huh?" He smiled at me, so I smiled back. He didn't seem too bad.
"I guess so."
"MIKE! I'M BORED! GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO!" complained a voice from downstairs.
"BILL...GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND MEET THE NEW ARRIVAL!" Mike yelled back.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "Oh, don't worry. My best mate," explained Mike. I nodded in appreciation. There were footsteps up the stairs, and then the boy with black hair appeared outside the door.
"Mike, please don't tell me you've just had a baby," he began, poking his head around the door.
"Umm...who's that?" he asked, looking at Mike, with his finger pointing at me. I blushed slightly.
"That's Cleo," Mike began. "My new sister."

With that, he shuffled up the bed to me, put his arm around my shoulder and grinned at the boy in the doorway, as if he was about to take a photo. The boy looked slightly confused for a moment, looking slightly angry, then he looked really happy. "Oh, hi. Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike's friendly shower buddy. Nice to meet you," he cried, cheerfully, bounding into the room and outstretching his arm, for me to shake his hand. I did.
"Oi, Billie. The whole idea of a secret is that you're not supposed to tell anyone!" sighed Mike, slapping his hand to his forehead and grinning. I must have looked slightly scared.
"Don't worry, babe," explained Billie Joe, smiling. "We don't really shower together, it's usually a bath." I looked from Billie Joe to Mike to Billie Joe to Mike again, then back to Billie Joe.

"Welcome to my world, sister, welcome to my world," cried Mike, grinning. Glancing across the room, I saw that they both were. Suddenly, the smallish ball of fluff began to wake on the floor.
"Whoa!" cried Billie, jumping onto the bed and hiding behind me and Mike. Jimmy rolled over, then realizing that there were other people in the room, he snapped into life. He just stood there in the middle of the floor, growling slightly.
"Don't worry. That's Jimmy," I explained, getting up and scooping him into my arms. The other two looked at me like I'd just declared my love for custard.
"Jimmy," said Mike, plainly.
"Yeah, Jimmy. My best friend." His puzzled frown quickly began to transform into a toothy grin.
"Sweet."

Gently, I put the bull dog on the ground. He looked up at Mike, then bounded up to him, jumping onto his lap. Mike began to stroke him, and Jimmy let out almost a purr. I'd never seen him like this with anyone else before, especially not someone he'd just met. The only other people he'd been like this with, were me and Tom. God, I already missed the guy. He'd kind of acted like a best friend, a brother like Jimmy who I adored, and my boyfriend.

Yes, I had a crush on him. But, it did take me a whole year to realize it. It usually takes me a long time to settle into somewhere, or become friends with them. But, maybe Jimmy doing this, maybe it was a good thing. Like a sign or something from Satan. I think that all this 'God' stuff is a load of crap, but that's only my view. I believe in hell, and hope my family all move there. Apart from Jimmy. He'll end up somewhere like Ice Cream world. He likes ice cream. Anyway, I'm going on a little now so...

"Wow, he's awesome." said Billie Joe, smiling and petting him. I nodded, glancing over at the wall. My eyes hit a photo of a boy. Looked about thirteen with short, almost black hair and blue eyes. Jimmy. My life. I loved him more than anything in the world. I lived for him. I suppose, I kind of think of my dog the same as him.
"Do you want any help putting up posters or unpacking?" asked Mike out of the blue. I shook my head, landing back in the real world with a bump.
"What? Oh, yeah. Yes please. Would you be able to put these photos up for me please?" I replied, handing him a pile of about thirty photo's. He nodded as I passed him a large ball of blue-tack
"You want them anywhere in particular?" I shook my head as he began sticking them to the wall.

"Who's that?" asked Billie Joe, snatching a photo off Mike and tapping me on the shoulder. I spun around to tell him. After glancing at the picture for only a second, I realized.
"Oh, umm... That's my family," I mumbled.
"Oh. Sorry."
"No, don't be. It's not your fault."
"Damn!" cried Mike, suddenly. Both me and Billie looked at him. "I need to take a leak," he muttered, getting up and walking out. I looked over at Billie, who just shrugged. It was silent. He still had the photo in his hand.

"Do you miss them?" I hesitated slightly, before sighing, and nodding. "Were they nice?" Now this is were I got stuck. Imagine, a little nine year old girl, lying on the concrete outside her home. Two people are leant over her. An older girl, about thirteen, and a boy, about eleven. The girl was holding a knife, and the boy was holding the little girls arms down. On the nine year olds wrist's were cuts, gushing with blood. The other two just walked off. That little girl was me. The February before I got sent away. The fifth time they'd tried to kill me. Get me out of their lives for good. Jimmy didn't even know. My own mother did, but just let them do it. Watch two of her children try to kill another of hers.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. I tried my hardest to keep them back but failed, as one trickled down my cheek. "Hey, hey," soothed Billie, coming closer and pulling me into a hug. I imagined my life as a film. Me, Cleo Wrydon, bawling my guts out into some random guys shoulder in some random persons house. I felt a right prick.
Page 1/11 | Next

Site info | Contact | F.A.Q. | Privacy Policy

2024 © GeekStinkBreath.net
Register