Izzy
“Izzy, we need to go soon, but I understand if you want to wait until tomorrow to pack and say your goodbyes,” Harley says while pulling the car into a parking space next to the house. The lawn hasn't been done since the last social services inspection six months ago. It’s long grass, that’s mostly weeds, covering the small, front lawn and cracked pavement leading to the door. The house hasn’t been worked on for years, and it tells from the outside. My lazy, and possibly crazy, foster parents wouldn't bother leaving the house to do any work on it. Well, they didn’t care enough to make me mow it or risk neighbours seeing me working my ass off for them, as it’s a nice neighbourhood with decent people living here.
“No, I only have a bag, or so, of things, so it will only take me half an hour to pack, want to wait?” I say, hoping he will stay. I secretly don't want to be alone with them when they find out I'm leaving. They have never hurt me, but throwing things near me and screaming at me is normal for them. I frown, thinking of times when it’s worse if they have been drinking, which I’m guessing they have by now. It is midday.
“Yes. I need to tell them about you leaving with me,” he tells me and then frowns.
“Well, your foster parents should have received a phone call or letter explaining, anyway,” he hesitates before continuing as he stares at the house. “Why have you only got one bag? What about your clothes and, well, girl stuff?” he asks while pulling out the car keys.
I nearly sigh in relief that he's not leaving me here, and I say quietly. “I don't have many clothes or other things,” I try to get out of the car because I don’t want to discuss this anymore, but a large hand on my upper arm gently stops me. He huffs, gaining my attention back to him as he moves his hand.
“Seb is going to love spoiling you with my credit card,” he laughs loudly and gets out of the car too.
I frown at his statement, but my nerves get the best of me and don’t let me think about it anymore as I stare up at the home I’ve lived in for three years. So many memories are bad, but also in some ways this place made me stronger, I straighten up and walk into the house with Harley following me. I start by walking straight into the living room where my foster dad is passed out face-down on the sofa with a bottle of vodka in his hand. I’m guessing Vivian is at one of her friends’ as she is nowhere to be seen.
“I wouldn't wake him up if I was you. I’ll go and pack,” I say in a whisper and shrug at Harley as he glares at Fred on the sofa. I notice how he looks around the room in disgust before smiling at me, but I can see the pity in his eyes.
As I walk past him he says to hurry up, so I suppress a smile at that and run up to my room. I throw my three pairs of jeans, four tops, and my leggings in a bag. I get all my underwear and, finally, my jewellery. I hid it under my bed, it's the only thing of my mother’s I have left, that my foster parents haven't sold. The memory of my mother comes rushing at me as I hold the necklace.
I know I shouldn’t be looking in mum’s jewellery box, but everything is so pretty. I am only seven, so mum won’t be too mad. I open the worn, wooden box and inside are pretty, little earrings I’ve seen my mom wear. In the middle, is a very pretty purple necklace I’ve never seen. I pull it out holding it up in the air as it sparkles in the light from the window, making me giggle.
“Elizabeth,” the angry voice of my mother makes me jump and turn to see her standing in the doorway to the bedroom. Her white-blonde hair is up in a messy bun from cleaning, and she is wearing a pretty, red dress. Her face softens slightly after a second before she lets out a long breath and comes over to me. She kneels in front of the stool I’m sitting on and takes the necklace out of my hand gently.
“It’s real pretty, mummy,” I say, frowning at my mummy’s sad face.
“It is, isn’t it? I haven’t looked at this in years. It’s called a sapphire,” she tells me.
“Who gave you it, mummy?” I ask as she stares at the necklace in her hand. The sapphire is about the size of her thumb and shines like my mummy’s blue eyes.
“The man who still holds my heart, baby. I just can’t let this go.” She whispers the end part to herself, but then she stands up, putting the necklace back in her box and holds her hand out to me.
“Do you want to go and get ice cream? Mummy could use some chocolate ice cream.” She smiles, making me laugh.
“Yes, mummy,” I squeal jumping up and down.
The memory of her fades, leaving only the sadness that she is gone. I kept it hidden well enough because of that memory, I guess I had always hoped it was my dad who gave it to her, but who knows? It looks expensive, but my mum never dated anyone that I saw growing up, so it could be. I could ask Harley. I throw it in my bag then go into the bathroom to collect my shampoos, soap, razors, and hairbrush. I chuck those into the bag and look at myself in the full-length mirror. My long almost-white, blond hair is nearly at my waist, even in a plait like it is now. I have those bright-green eyes like my brother and a layer of freckles I’m not a fan of. I’m quite pale as I don’t get out much, but I have a good body, as my best friend would say. I’m looking at my eyes wondering about my father when I hear a thump and a man cry out. I race down the stairs finding Harley holding Fred by his neck up against the wall, and Harley’s face is close to Fred’s.
“Don't speak about my sister like that ever again, or I’ll end you. Do you understand?” he asks, and Fred mumbles a shaken “yes”. Harley lets him drop to the floor. Harley looks back to me with a smile and starts brushing down his suit before asking, “You ready?” I nod and he turns back to Fred with a scary amount of hate on his face. “We are going now, and don't contact my sister, or I’ll find you.” With that, he gestures for me to walk out, and I do with my head held high. I say goodbye to my old life and head out into the new.