Disclaimer: As of publishing this first chapter (Dez.2024) this story is a work in progress. The chapters are mostly unedited and details may change over time. This is also my first story so any feedback will be greatly appreciated. 

Enjoy reading :)

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As the car stopped it felt like I could finally breathe again. No more waiting, no more anticipation, no more surprises, we were finally here. Now where exactly was "here"? A small southern town in the middle of nowhere. To be honest I've never even heard of its existence before then. It was the polar opposite of what I knew my whole life. The agency people said that it would be something good, that I would feel like I was "away from everything". Now if that was actually true was another thing. 

It definitely did feel different though. It was the middle of summer but the air felt cool and, unlike in the city, it was dark. It was right after sunset so it wasn't extremely dark, I could still see everything from the car window, but it was darker than I was used to.

What I could see from the car window was a somewhat small green house with a few trees in the front. It looked welcoming, but it made me remember what my mother always told me; Don't judge a book by its cover. At first I thought that it was a stupid saying and nothing else, but after having to go to multiple houses in the past few years, I think she was right. Some houses look creepy but have the most kind elderly grandmas in them and some... don't.

The grizzly agent woman, Mrs Welsh, opened the car door for me and as I hopped out I realised just how quiet it really was. No cars, no loud street lamps, no drunk people, just crickets and the lightest summer wind breezing through the distant hills. Why anyone would choose to live in such silence was beyond me. I would rather live by a nightclub than having to listen to my own thoughts for five minutes. 

The silence was quickly snatched away by Mrs Welsh violently knocking on the front door, almost like she forgot that last time she did that she accidentally broke a door down, surprisingly I didn't stay at that house for long. 

The dark red door seemed to be still standing as the lights inside the house suddenly turned on. First upstairs then downstairs and finally by the door. It was almost comedic how fast they turned on. Just as comedic as the man who opened the door. A middle aged man who looked like a stereotypical lumberjack. He nervously smiled and shook Mrs Welsh's hand with a firm grib before welcoming us in. 

His house inside looked exactly like what you would expect. Very old fashioned, a lot of wood and colourful furniture. I half expected a deer head on the wall but there was none in sight, only a fireplace with a painting of a deer above, I guess that counts. Mrs Welsh scribbled in her notebook, although Mr lamberjack already looked a bit nervous before, this seemed to make him even more anxious. The funny thing was that she did that everytime, just took out her notebook and probably doodled something in there just to make people nervous on purpose. 

He managed to clear his throat: "Uhm, so, this is the living room. Our kitchen is straight ahead and upstairs is the bathroom and bedrooms."

"We're also building a pool in the backyard.", a woman walked down the stairs.

She had a slight French accent. She also didn't look like someone who would marry a lumberjack looking dude. The woman looked very elegant, she clearly spent hours figuring out her outfit and makeup. She stopped at the last step of the stairs and just looked at me, almost like she recognised me, or maybe she was just shocked at my fashion sense, one of the two.

"Hi, I'm Lyana. Do you want to see your room?"

Before I could respond the man cut in and asked: "She's okay with boys, right?"

Ah, right. From the little things Mrs Welsh told me she did mention another teenager was living with them. Didn't mention it was a boy though, or if it was their biological child or not. 

Mrs Welsh looked down at her file and answered for me, telling him that it wouldn't be a problem. This reminded me that although I felt like I knew Mrs Welsh really well she probably didn't remember a thing about me, she probably had a dozen kids just like me to deal with every day. For her I was just another name in her files.

I went upstairs with Lyana while Mrs Welsh stayed downstairs with the man. Although I'm easily claustrophobic I didn't mind the small hallway, it was kind of cozy actually. There was a small sofa at the end of it and in between two doors on the ceiling was a hatch door. I wondered what door led to the other teenager's bedroom, he was probably asleep anyway. 

Lyana opened a door at the end of the hallway for me and we walked into the room. There was nothing noteworthy. I guess it was a bit bigger than the others I had before and it also had a tiny balcony with sliding doors. But it did share one thing with the others, the emptiness. A small empty desk, a bed with blank white bedsheets and an empty closet. Empty, empty, empty. The only thing on the unlived clean wooden floor was the bag that I threw.

"So, this is it. We have some decorations in the attic if you want any.", she said. I just nodded, not really interested in taking that offer. 

Just as quickly as she showed me my room she left me alone to "settle in". They always did this, expected me to decorate a room that didn't really feel like mine. I never felt comfortable doing that. I never really felt comfortable "settling in". 

Nevertheless I always tried to at least make the room feel a bit less empty by putting the few clothes I had with me in the closet, placing my notebooks on the desk and tossing the small pink travel pillow on the bed. It did little to help but it was at least something. 

Looking outside the window over my bed I saw Mrs Welsh, walking back to her silver Cabriolet and driving off. That made it official, I was stuck there until "further notice", at least that's how the agency put it. It didn't really bother me, or at least that's what I told myself at the time. I just wanted to get through it all until I was finally eighteen, because my mother definitely wasn't going to get better before then. This was always something that made me sleep better at night, knowing that it all was going to end someday. By then there were only three years left. Only three years until I was eighteen.

There were a few things I expected to wake up to the next morning, maybe a rooster or singing birds but it was definitely not loud bangs of frying pans clinging together and the lumberjack yelling for everyone to wake up. 

I quickly got out of bed and opened my bedroom door to see what was going on. Someone had the same idea as me. The door in front of my room opened and the boy they were talking about earlier walked out. Somehow already almost dressed, he was still putting on his second sock, and ready for the day. Wasn't it like four in the morning? What time do these people wake up? 

Just looking at him already answered the question I had before, he was definitely their biological son. He looked just like the lumberjack man, just younger, I guess, and with his mother's curly hair.

We both shared a look, he seemed surprised to see me at first but then quickly turned over to his father, still banging on the frying pans.

"Dad, we're awake!", he shouted, with no French accent in sight.

His father immediately stopped bursting our eardrums and just looked over at us.

"Oh, okay. Breakfast is ready.", he smiled and walked downstairs.

I couldn't help but laugh, I didn't know if it was because I was just exhausted and couldn't think straight or because of how comedic this all was, maybe both. 

While still laughing to myself I couldn't help but ask: "Does he always do that?"

The boy, well maybe not boy, he was clearly older than me, the guy fixed his shirt and happily answered: "Yeah, pretty much."

There was a moment of silence between us. I tried rubbing my eyes open but that didn't really help, I was never a morning person and those frying pans did not help.

He extended his hand out for a handshake as he said: "I'm Philip."

I took his hand and quickly shook it. 

"Fifi."

Before it could get any more awkward he walked away and headed downstairs. He suddenly stopped on the stairs and pointed towards another door that I didn't notice before.

"The bathroom is over there."

At that moment I remembered that I wasn't even dressed yet or have done my hair, that was probably why he was a bit awkward when he saw me. I didn't blame him, I looked awful in the morning. I almost scared myself when I looked into the bathroom mirror. The only thing that didn't look absolutely terrible was my hair, which I strategically cut short to not have it in my way when Mrs Welsh comes to pick me up at the dead of night.

Coming downstairs the house was lit up by the sunshine coming from the windows. I didn't really get to look around much last night but now that I did I noticed all the clutter and decorations that were scattered everywhere. Books, photos, board games, flowers, newspapers, everything you would imagine being in a small town house was there. Suddenly the thin curtain to the kitchen opened. Lyana smiled at me.

"Do you want to eat with us? I made waffles."

Well, I couldn't say no to freshly made waffles, especially since their waffley smell was all throughout the house. So I happily walked into the kitchen where Philip and his dad were sitting at the table, already eating the warm waffles with some coffee and fruits. It seemed weird to me to have such a light breakfast. Usually the families that I've been to before made a huge American style breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, cheese, you name it. As I sat down Lyana placed a plate in front of me with some waffles and fruits on them. They looked really good and tasted even better, and that comes from someone that never really enjoyed waffles. The fruits were also delicious, it made me wonder if they grew their own.

"Try not to choke.", the lumberjack said.

"Steve, let the girl eat. She probably didn't eat anything in a while."

Steve, that was his name. It didn't really suit him, I would have thought he was named Otis or Thor based on his build, but I guess it was better than calling him lumberjack the whole time. 

But this did make me wonder: "What do you do? For work?"

He laughed. His loud and deep voice gave me goosebumps. Yup, he probably was a lumberjack or something else where you would need a body like his.

"I work down at the local building and repairs company. I could take you there someday if you want-"

"Dad, don't."

Steve gave Philip a confused look.

"Fifi, trust me. It's like the most boring job in the world. I barely stayed awake when he dragged me over there.", Philip explained while taking a sip of his coffee.

I looked over at Steve, expecting him to get angry or be offended, but instead he laughed once again and nodded, like his son didn't just insult his job.

"I remember that.", he smiled and continued: "He fell asleep at my boss' desk. How old were you? Like six?"

We all laughed. The image of a six year old Philip falling asleep out of boredom was kinda funny. Especially since now I could barely imagine him being that young. He looked pretty mature, almost as tall as his father too, it made me think, how old even was he? Mrs Welsh said that a teenager lived here, so he was definitely under eighteen, but he looked like he was at least eighteen, but who knows. At my old school some people my age looked like they were in their mid twenties. Speaking of school.

"We signed you up at the local school. You don't have to go today if you don't want to, we just wanted you to know.", Lyana smiled as she washed the dishes.

I leaned on the counter and thought for a second. School. I haven't been to one in what felt like ages.

"Is Philip going there too?", I asked.

She nodded and turned off the faucet before turning to me and giving me that look again, as if she was looking right into me. Just as she was about to say something Philip walked in, wearing his school bag. He looked over at me and threw me a backpack, it was clearly a bit older but still usable.

"You coming?"

I grabbed the backpack. Was I really going to go to school? That felt... almost too normal. Looking up at them I could just see their anticipation, but before I could answer Philip cut in:

"Fine, but she will make you do the rest of the dishes, you know that right?"

I looked over at the pile of plates and cups still in the sink. Yeah, I was definitely not doing that.