Pretending (bxb)

chapter 2

I've been sitting in this goddamn bed for what feels like eternity. If my social worker doesn't turn her ass up in the next 5 minutes, I am going to rip these IV's out of my body and just walk out. I'm not kidding.

I hate being left alone with nothing to do. That means I have time to think and being left alone with my own thoughts is not something I ever want. It means I actually have to acknowledge the shitty things I've been through.

Plus, I was given a room without a TV! Like who does that, I'm a teenager for gods sake, of course I'll want to watch TV!

Just as I'm about to get up, the door opens and a woman wearing a tight black skirt and a white button up appears. She has light brown hair and a friendly smile. She looks to be in her later twenties.

"Hey there Quinn! My name is Mrs. Lamprey. I'm sure the doctors have informed you that I'm your social worker?" I nod in return. "Great! Now I'm sure you have many questions, don't you?" I nod again.

"What happened to my father?"

"He's been taken care of sweetheart. You won't ever have to see that man ever again," she tells me with a pitying look in her eye. Not gonna lie, it made me angry with the way she was talking to me, acting like I'm a child.

"Look lady, you can stop with the act. I don't need you to baby me like I'm five years old. Just tell me exactly what's going to happen to him," I said, looking at her intensely. She seemed a little startled at first, but then quickly sealed it and smiled at me again.

"Of course, I understand. He's been charged with a possession of drug paraphernalia, which if he's convicted, will result in up to a year spent in prison. Originally that was the reason your father was being looked into. Then after many complaints about your well-being from your school, the police started looking more into you. Your father has been charged with child neglect and endangerment. Given your statement, which will only happen under your own circumstances, your father could spend up to 16 years in prison, maybe even more."

"Hold up. My statement? Why do I have to make a statement? Hasn't all the scars and bruises on my body proven everything? I don't want to make a statement!" The thought absolutely terrified me. Even though my father was a horrible man to me, and never once took care of me after my mother left, It still feels like some sort of betrayal if I were to make a statement against him.

Mrs. Lamprey frowned and looked at me again in that pitying way. God I hated that look. "You don't have to make a statement sweetheart. But it would really benefit your case. Talking to the police and telling your story could make it so you're father spends all the time in jail that he deserves."

"I don't care, I'm not giving a statement. And stop calling me sweetheart." She nods her head and goes silent for a moment.

"We can talk about all that in the future s- Quinn. For now I'd like to talk about you. How do you feel?"

"I feel- uh- I'm fine." Aside from the amount of pain I'm in, I feel a little uneasy. Scratch that I'm very fucking uneasy. My father is about to spend more than a decade in jail. Like holy shit is this even real? Mrs. Lamprey gives me a look, signaling she knows that was a lie. Jeez, what exactly does she want me to do? Trauma dump? You're not a therapist, lady.

"These next couple of weeks are going to be very hard for you Quinn. Once you get settled down a bit, I'd recommend you spend a little time with a therapist. Maybe start with a few times a month- more if that's what you'd prefer." Excuse me lady? What did you just say- therapy? Hell fucking no. No no no no no no no no no NO. I do not need a therapist. I've gone my whole damn life without a therapist and I've been completely and totally fine. I can get through this on my own.

"I- I don't need," holy shit my voice is so shaky. Am I serious right now? Shut the fuck up Quinn, stop acting like a baby. "I don't need therapy. I don't want it." I say, hard and aggressively to shield the fear.

Mrs. Lamprey sighs, but nods her head none the less. "Well then, moving on. I'm sure the doctors have informed you about you condition?" I nod. "Tell me what you know." It's my turn to sigh.

"Broken arm, broken fingers, fractured ribs, bruises, cuts, yeah yeah yeah. Oh and a concussion, can't forget about my lovely old concussion."

She gives me a pointed look before crossing her arms. "You're forgetting more, Quinn."

"I was just on a diet!"

"Right. Well as your social worker, it's my job to make sure you're healthy. Once we get you settled in with your family, I'll be doing monthly check ups to see how you're doing." The mention of a new family makes my stomach churn. It sparks a little confusion. Was she talking about foster care?

"Great, so I'll be seeing more of you, then?" I meant it as a joke but I could tell it hurt her feelings. It made me feel guilty but I'm not good at apologizing or just being a good person in general.

"The hospital is providing you with pain medications to help the healing process. I've booked you an appointment in a few months to get your cast off. Hopefully you know about the meal plan as well?"

"Hopefully you don't think I was purposely starving myself? If there's food in front of me, I'm going to eat it. I don't need a meal plan."

"It doesn't matter if it was on purpose or not, Quinn. You still need it to get healthy. You're underweight for your age group and height."

"Whatever. I don't really care about any of this stuff. I want to know the actual important shit. Just skip to the good part, please."

"Please refrain from that sort of language, Quinn." I roll my eyes. Seriously? "Now I'm guessing where your going to live is the only thing you want answered right now, isn't it?"

Duh. "Yep."

"This is where it might get a little hard." Alright, so that didn't fail to make me nervous. "After your parents were divorced, there was never a fight for custody. Your mother moved to a different state, and you stayed here with your father."

"Wait, what? I thought my father was granted full custody?" Mrs. Lamprey shakes her head. I guess it doesn't actually matter, but it's surprising for me to here anyways.

"Last night, before I was informed of your situation and assigned to be your social worker, child protective services managed to get hold of your mother." My heart drops to my stomach. I have a feeling I know where this is going. "She lives in a nice home up in Florida with her soon to be husband and child." Lamprey pauses to see my reaction. And let me tell you, my reaction is pure anger.

You're telling me she left me, her first born child, and moved to another state to make a whole new family!? She left me with a grade A asshole, and never visited me ever again, never sent a card in the mail or called to see how I was doing. She left a six- year- old innocent child with a monster! And that six year old kid grew up to early and look where he is today. Sitting in a hospital because she left her kid with an abuser who beat him senseless every night.

"I understand this may be hard to hear..." Mrs. Lamprey starts.

"What exactly are you trying to tell me?" I bark out. Lamprey looks a little hesitant to continue.

"CPS informed her of your situation, Quinn. They told her that you needed someone to live with or you'd be put into the system."

So this is it. The moment I find out what kind of woman my mother really is. I've heard many stories about foster care. Hell my father used to tell me horrible things that happened to his buddies when they were little, to try and scare me and make it seem like living with him was better than being taken away. I'm not sure which is better. Bring put in foster care until I outgrow it, or living with a woman who abandoned me.

Mrs. Lamprey gives me a kind smile before saying; "Quinn, she agreed to take you in."

What the actual fuck?