The Gang Leader's Girl

"We understand death only after it has placed its hands on someone we love."

- Anne L. de Stael

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"Mia, wake up!" Whispered a soft, hushed voice.

In fact, it was so hushed I almost had thought I was just hearing things. That was until out of nowhere a loud door slam pierced through the silent hallway from the room right next to ours, creating enough force to vibrate the old wooden floors which we were laying on.

"Mia! Please wake up! I'm scared!" Panic flooding the little girl's voice.

I automatically knew who it was that was calling for me.

"Holly, where are you?" I whispered back, trying to look through the pitch black room. The foster people we live with don't allow us to have the lights on after 7:30. Trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way. You see, if you have the lights on after the restricted time, you'll get punished.

The punishments are plainly decided on how drunk Mrs. and Mr. Rockwell were that night. On a good night, punishments usually consist of not allowed to go to sleep until they decide they worked you long enough or going a couple nights without dinner, sometimes both. But if they start drinking the punishments become more violent. Mrs. Rockwell has never psychically abused any of the kids here but better yet she sits back and watches her husband do all the work, smiling.

I remember the first time James Rockwell hit me, I wanted to drop to my knees and cry out for my mother, but I didn't. You see when you've been in the system as long as I have you learn how to control showing your emotions. Because people like James and Martha thrive on seeing you break down, they get off on it.

Flashback:

"Come here you stupid bitch!" Mrs. Rockwell sneered at me.

"No, I'm sorry, whatever I did wrong I won't do it again! I promise!" I begged her.

"Damn right you won't do it again!" Martha laughed, the malevolent smile on her face sent horrid chills up my spine. The smell of alcohol rolled off her thin body in waves that were even making me dizzy.

"James get your fat ass up here, we got a newbie." Mrs. Rockwell wrapped her hand in my long brown hair, that was dirty because we are only allowed one shower a week, and pulled as hard as she could, pulling my head closer to her body.

I thought my heart was going to beat out my chest when I heard Mr. Rockwell's heavy footsteps slowly come up to the second floor. My breathing started to increase, and my lungs started burning for more air.

When James finally got to the second floor he had to hold the walls on either side of him to prevent him from losing his balance. His dark long hair was dirtier than mine, and I didn't think that was possible.

As he walked over to me a crooked smile started to form on his face, showing his yellow teeth. And if I thought the smell of alcohol was nauseating on Mrs. Rockwell, James was on a totally new level.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" James laughed and gripped my wrist in his dirty, rough hands. His eyes raked over my body slowly, I could basically see the devil coming out of him.

"She's out of her room after curfew, honey. What should we do with her?" Martha's voice sounded entertained.

"I just had to go to the bathro-" I tried to explain but was quickly stopped by the hard slapped that was placed on my left cheek. I silently winced as my face began to sting.

"You don't leave your room after 9 o'clock, you dumb slut!" Jame's angry voice echoed in the hallway. No one told me I wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom after curfew.

I guess me not reacting to Mr. Rockwell made him even angrier because his free hand, that wasn't death gripping my wrist, started to travel up and down my sides. A disgusting feeling made my stomach drop. Suddenly his hand left the sides of my stomach and then clasped around my neck.

"You want to act tough huh? beg me, beg me to stop, you useless excuse for a girl." His hands got tighter and tighter around my neck, squeezing his dirty nails into my throat. My lungs were pleading for air. I wanted to cry, I wanted to fight, I wanted to die.

The last thought that crossed my mind before everything went black was when I was younger, my mother would lay out blankets in the backyard. We'd lay outside for hours looking up at the stars, she once told me that for every star my eye could see, that it was the soul of someones loved one. That when we die our soul leave our bodies, and float into the universe, shining for the people they love back on earth, watching over them and making sure they were never alone.

Of course, now I know stars are nothing more than balls of gas, I really hope you're watching over me mom. Because right now I've never felt more alone.

End of Flashback

"Over here." Holly's soft voice filled the quiet room.

I carefully tipped toed around all the other sleeping kids, laying on the ground on their makeshift beds. Holly was the newest kid under the Rockwell's care, she's been here for about a week an a half. While I've been here for two months and fifteen days.

"Shhh it's okay, I've got you, " I whispered, pulling holly's shaking body into my lap.

"I want to home Mia! Please take me home. I'll do whatever say, I'll listen I promise!" She pleaded with me, sobbing in my arms.

Tears started to form in my eyes because there was nothing I could do for her, but hold her closer to me.

"Mommy said she'd be right back. She told me to keep swinging and she'll be back. Why didn't she come back for me Mia?" Another sob wreaked her small body.

Holly was a ten-year-old little girl, she should be at home sleeping in a princess bed with her favorite stuffed animal to protect her from the monsters underneath her bed. Not crying to a stranger about how her piss poor mom abandoned her at a park. She has to learn way too soon that it's not the monsters underneath the bed you need to fear, but the monsters inside our own heads that manipulate our thoughts, and cloud our judgment.

I didn't know much about the little girl, except that she's ten and her name is Holly. It goes against the rules of being a foster child. It's not real rules, but more like a universal concept.

Rule 1: Don't ask another foster child why they're in the system.

Rule 2: Don't ask about pass experiences.

Rule 3: Don't ask about their family.

It's harder then you'd you expect not to ask someone even though it is only just three questions. But talking about a child in the system's past can be hard for them, I know it was for me. That's why you don't talk about it unless that person decides it's time to open up and tell you.

Holly's crying finally subsided, her breathing started to return to normal. My heart hurt thinking about what she said to me. I know what it feels like to lose a mother, it's something you'll never get over but rather learn to live with.

I carefully covered Holly in her holey blanket, making sure not wake her. I pushed myself up off the floor and quietly went back to my own blanket. I crawled under and shut my eyes, forcing myself to sleep. I didn't want to think about what just happened.

"When you can no longer think of a reason to continue, you must think of a reason to start over."

- Linda Poindexter

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"Okay, here's your plane ticket. It's a one way, nonstop fight." Cassy, my social worker, said handing me the ticket.

"Wait, I'm traveling by myself? Is that even legal?" I asked confused.

"You're 17 Mia, in a few months, you'll be 18. It's not illegal for you to ride on a plane by yourself." She explained to me.

"Where am I going exactly?" I asked her, looking down at the piece of paper. I've been in and out fosters homes for the past ten years and never had I have to fly on a plane before.

"Colorado." She smiled lightly.

"COLORADO?" I practically yelled, shocked. That's halfway across the country!

"Why am I being shipped off to Colorado?" I continue, looking up at Cassy. Silently praying she'll reconsider.

"There are plenty of foster homes here, in Manhattan, " I argued, not giving her a chance to speak.

"You'll be going to a great home Mia." She looked down at me sadly.

What am I? Some kind of homeless dog? I don't care about going to a "great home" I just wanted to go somewhere I wouldn't get beat for breaking some impossible rule that a foster person had set.

"Yeah, that's what you said the day before you put me in the Rockwell's house." I laughed sarcastically.

The sad expression on her face instantly made me regret what I said. I might not be able to control how people treat me, but I could control the way I treat them. And honestly, if I set out just to hurt others, how does that make me any better than the Rockwells' or any other crude person?

"Look, Mia, I'm sorry. I don't have very much say as to where you're placed, however, all things considered, the house you're going to is for kids your age. The woman you're going to has never been in jail, nor have any of the kids been reported with cuts or bruises." She said trying to convince me that this family would be different from all the rest.

"What's her name?" I sighed in defeat.

I should at least knew some information about this lady before I arrived. Because fighting was pretty much useless, I was going regardless of my thoughts and concerns.

I can't really blame Cassy either. For the past two years, she's been my caseworker. She was one of the rare ones that actually listened when you tried to explain what was happening in the foster home. I knew she wouldn't purposefully try to put me in harm's way.

"Rose MacDymke (mac dim-kee), here take this." She told me trying to hand over the file.

"Don't you need this?" I watched her confused.

"It's fine, we have copy's back at the office." Cassy smiled, shaking the file for me to grab.

Don't mind if I do I thought to myself. It couldn't hurt knowing about the people i'm about to meet.

"Gate A18 to Colorado Springs will be open for boarding in 20 minutes, " A voice said over the intercom.

"That's you, A social worker was going to pick up from the airport, but Mrs. MacDymke insisted it be her that brought you to the house. There is a picture of her in the file."

I nodded my head and was about to walk away and go stand in the line for the Colorado flight when Cassy called after me.

"Oh wait! Mia come back, I almost forgot." Cassy rushed out.

I turned back around and watched as she pulled out an old brown, leathered journal, my journal. I started writing in it after my mom died, and I was placed in my first foster home. It was a way to cope I guess. That small book held some of my deepest and darkest feeling and memories.

"I know you don't have any clothes or belonging with you anymore. But I did find your journal in Martha and Jame's room. I thought you'd want it."

I forgot that Mrs. Rockwell took it from me one night after she caught me writing in it. I looked everywhere for it! I had just thought she had thrown it away. I quickly opened it, flipping through the pages for the only thing that made this journal worth anything. Skimming along the old, dirty pages I finally saw it. Tears flooded my vision. It was a photograph of my mother and I from when I was seven. It was the last thing I had of her.

"Thank you." I looked up Cassy, fighting the tears away.

"It's no problem, Mia." She smiled wholeheartedly at me.

"fifteen minutes until gate A18 to Colorado opens." The announcement boomed through the airport speakers, startling me.

"I better get going." I whispered, my voice cracked slightly.

"Take care of yourself, okay?"

I just nodded my head and walked away.

I always take care of myself.

...

Finally finding my seat on the plane I'm pleased to see I have the window seat. Turns out that a nonstop flight from New York to Colorado takes about four an half to five hours. So I and this window are going to be well acquainted. I was so deep into thought that I almost missed the presence that sits down next to me. I tried to look over at the person without making it obvious, but I'm pretty sure I failed horribly.

It was a man, probably mid-forties or early fifties. He was dress in a black suit with matching glossy shoes. I immediately felt self-conscious in my ripped jeans and a plain white shirt that Cassy had given me before I left. The man beside me seemed to be dripping with pride and authority, it was intimidating, to say the least.

I promptly turned my head to look back out the window, cause I didn't want the man to think I was staring at him. I gazed down at my lap and saw Mrs. MacDymke file. I did have some time I needed to kill, so I opened the folder.

Name: Rosalind MacDymke.

Sex: Female.

Age: 38 years old.

Location: Colorado Springs.

Biological Kids: 0

Foster Kids: 8

Axel Deacon: 18 years old.

Rylan Summers: 17 years old.

Phoenix Richmond: 19 years old.

Indy Richmond: 16 years old.

Wyatt Harrison: 17 years old.

Angelo Hernandez: 18 years old.

Camila Hernandez: 18 years old.

Kina McGee: 17 years old.

I never lived in a house with so many teenagers before. Usually, it's kids around the age of eight and nine. This was definitely going to be interesting. Mrs. MacDymke picture showed she was a thin woman, with medium length blonde hair. She had forest green eyes and a bright smile that reminded me of my mother.

A sudden wave a drowsiness washed over me. I closed the folder and decided it was probably best for me to sleep before I touched down in Colorado.

Because when I wake up it'll be time to start all over again.

"The marks humans leave are too often scars."

- John Green? Picture above is Rylan?

************************************************

"Young lady."

"Young lady?" A deep voice called again startling me awake.

I quickly open my eyes and looked over to see who it was that was calling me. I was surprised to see that it was the man in the suit, that was seated next to me.

"Yes?" I asked, still groggy from just waking up.

"Uh, the plane landed." He said, pointing to the now empty plane that I just now had noticed.

"Shit." I mumbled to myself.

"It's impolite to swear, especially a child like yourself." He spoke sternly, furrowing his eyebrows at me.

"Sorry, " I replied, not really sorry.

I stood up from my seat and grabbed my journal and Mrs. MacDymke's file when I looked back up the man was gone.

I honestly didn't expect to sleep the whole trip here. But I do have to say the plane's seats beat laying on the floor any day.

I carefully slipped between the seats, trying not to lose my balance to get to the main hallway of the plane. My legs felt like I was standing on water, probably because I've been sat down for so long.

I finally gain control of my legs and exited the plane. When I got outside I was slapped with a rush of fresh air. Goosebumps covered my arms. The air felt lighter here than it did in New York. And for some odd reason, I felt excitement bubble in my stomach, and an empowering sensation of freedom rippled through me like I had escaped something I didn't know about.

I quickly stepped down the stairs coming from the plane. And that's when it hit me, I have no clue where the hell i'm supposed to go.

I looked around, lost. Thats when I noticed over to the left was a sign hanging over a glass hallway that connects to the airport building.

The sign said "Plane Landing Exit"

You can be really stupid sometimes Mia, I scolded myself.

I readjusted my journal and the file and headed towards the exit. When I stepped onto the glass hallway it felt like someone sucker punched me in the stomach. When you looked down on the glass floor you could see cars underneath you leaving the airport, or entering it for that matter. I glanced over to the sides of the hallway and I could see mountains out in the distance, they looked tiny from here but I knew once you got closer they'd become ginormous.

I never knew I had a fear of heights until now, granted I've never been in a situation where heights ever played a factor. I was usually forced to stay indoors or go to school.

Okay, Mia, you've got this, I told myself. It's only what fifteen steps? Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I tried to move my legs but they wouldn't budge.

"Oh come on! You stupid leg, move!" I cursed it.

It was obviously not offended by what I had said cause it still wouldn't budge.

I put both my feet on either side of the floor, as far from the middle of the glass as I could get. I closed my eyes tight, making sure I wouldn't be tempted to look down. Taking baby steps I slowly made my way across.

"Are you okay?" A boyish laugh asked.

I immediately opened my eyes. Which I instantly regretted, cause now I was about halfway through the hallway. Frozen looking down at the good sixteen-foot drop. I could just imagine the glass breaking and me landing on the pavement, like an egg.

"Not at all!" I yelped. If it wasn't for him I would had been just fine, I'd even be on the other side of this damned thing!

"Of course not! You look ridiculous." He laughed again. If I wasn't so scared out of my mind, I'd probably think his laugh was cute.

"Shut up! Stop laughing you dickhead! It's not funny!" I shouted at him, annoyed. My eyes were still fixed on the ground, wondering how I'm going to get myself out of this.

"Would you like some help, Mia?" He asked. Forgetting all about my fear of ending up like roadkill, My gaze jumped over to him. And boy oh boy was he a looker.

Not now, Mia, I reminded myself.

"How do you know my name?" I squinted my eyes at him.

"I'm Rylan Summers." He replied, walking towards me. Like I was supposed to know who that was.

"STOP! THIS IS GOING TO BREAK ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY!?" I yelled, horrified.

"It's not going to break Mia, see?" He stops right in front of me and jumped. This lunatic jumped!

"HELP! IM GOING TO DIE!" I called out for someone but no one was there.

Rylan reached under me and grabbed my legs lifting me up in his arms. I grabbed around his neck making sure that I don't slip. Cause if this thing breaks I fully intend to land on him.

His cologne invaded my nose, the spices tickling my senses. His light brown-blondish hair was combed over to one side but you could still see the curls trying to form at the ends of his hair. His high cheekbones sat perfectly on his face along with his sharp jawline. Not to mention he had to be at least 6 feet tall, cause he towers over me. And I'm 5'5".

"You know I don't mind carrying you Mia, but we are off the glass." He smiled down at me.

"Oh right, put me down." I demanded.

"Your wish is my command." He winked, letting go of me gently.

"How do you know my name?" I asked again, since he never answered me the first time.

"I'm one of Rose's foster kids, she showed me a picture of you at the house, she thought you might have had gotten lost so she sent me out to find you." He replied.

That's when it hit me, I did remember reading his name in the file that Cassy gave me. I was so concentrated on talking to myself I didn't even notice that Rylan had reached out grabbed my hand.

His once light hazel eyes, that seemed so inviting, were darker, scarier. My heart rate increased. What did I do to piss him off? That's when I noticed what he was looking at. The dark bruises that were scattered on my arms.

"Who-" He began.

"Don't." I stop him. "Please." I practically begged him. My eyes started forming tears, I hate explaining why I had bruises. It was part of the reason I hated going to school, the sad looks, telling people how I fell down the stairs, breaking my arm to cover up for an awful man that had actually twisted it behind my back till it broke. Or why I come to class with new bruises every day.

"Mia look at me." He put his thumb under my chin making me look at him. I tried to move my head away not liking his forcefulness, nor did I want him to see me crying. When he noticed me trying to fight his movements he let go. Instead, he gently placed his hands on either side of my neck, making me look up at him.

"Nobody is going to hurt you ever again okay? I promise." His eyes bore into mine, with so much intensity that it almost made me uncomfortable.

A feeling I haven't felt in a long time nearly stopped my heart right then and there. Trust. I quickly backed away from him, making his hands fall. I shook my head slightly getting my thoughts back in order. The only person I can trust is myself.

I looked back over at Rylan to see him watching me intently, I slightly nodded my head, not really knowing what I should say or what I could say for that matter.

"Come on. Let's take you to Rose so we can go home." He smiled down at me.

Home.

Such a funny word.

What does that word even mean? Because I heard people say "home is where the heart is" and if that's the case my home was left back in New York Marble Cemetery.

"Put this on." Rylan's voice snapped me back to reality. I watched as he started taking off his black jacket and headed it towards my direction.

"Why do I need this?" I looked up at him and then back down at the jacket confused, I'm not cold.

"If you don't want to talk about what happened to you that's okay, but if Rose sees it she'll ask questions." He told me, pushing his jacket towards me again.

I wanted to argue with him, and tell him I didn't need his pity and that could handle Rose for myself. But, I decided against it. I reached out and grabbed the stupid jacket (a little rougher than I intended to) and quickly put it on.

I glanced back up at Rylan, only to see him already looking at me, smiling to himself.

"Ready?" He asked.

"As ready as I'll get." I sighed.

Rylan quickly grabbed my hand in his, I immediately jumped at the sudden action and tried to get my hand away from his but he tightens his grip, it wasn't a rough grip but it was definitely strong. His hands were surprisingly warm and weirdly soft. What lotion does he use?

Rylan guided me through the sea of people in the airport. His long legs carried him a lot faster than my shorts ones. I had to power walk to keep up with his long strides. The people around us were passing me in a blur.

"There you two are! I was getting worried." A woman rushed over to us.

"It's okay mom, our dearest Mia here has a fear of heights." Rylan laughed, and Rose smiled at me.

I was flabbergasted that he just called Rose his mother? He did he say was a foster kid right? She allows him to call her mom?

"I'm Mia Morrison, " I said sticking out my hand for her to shake. "Thank you for accepting me into your home Mrs. MacDymke." I continued waiting for her to shake my hand.

But instead, she pulls me into loving hug. Oh yes, I just love awkward hugs from strangers.

"Call me Rose sweetie, the pleasure is all mine." She tightens her arms and then let's go and smile at me.

"Isn't that you're jacket Rylan?" Rose asked him.

"Yes, it is. I was cold and he let me use it because I don't have any luggage." I lied, butting in.

"Ain't he just the sweetest." She reached up and pinched his cheeks. Rylan huffed out a breath and playfully swatted her hand away.

"We already have your room set up at the house, I hope you'll like it, and I'm sure one of the girls at the house will have clothes for you until we get you some of your own, " Rose informed me.

"It's starting to get late, we should probably get going, and I'm sure Mia is worn out from her flight." Rylan cut in.

"Yes, yes let's get going." I flinched when Rose linked her arm with mine. It was odd to have so much human contact on my skin that wasn't causing pain. I don't think Rose noticed my discomfort though.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rylan frown at me, shaking his head. He must of seen me flinch from Rose.

When we got to the car I was shocked. This car looked expensive, so expensive I was scared to get in it. I think it was a dodge, maybe a Chevy? I'm not sure, I wasn't very educated when it came to cars.

A hand came from behind me and opened the door for me. I looked over my shoulder and saw it was Rylan. I could have opened the door for myself, I mean I do have hands for a reason.

"Go ahead, get in." He insisted.

I crawled into the backseat and watched as he shut the door. From out the window, I saw Rose smirking lightly to herself watching Rylan.

When she got in the passenger seat and Rylan in the driver's seat I got confused. Isn't this Rose's car?

"What's on your mind?" Rylan asked looking at me from the rearview mirror.

"It's nothing, I just thought this was Rose's car, " I told him.

"Nope, it's mine." He replied, popping the 'p'.

"Now buckle up, wouldn't want you to get hurt now would we?" A boyish smile came over his face. I nodded my head and buckled my seat belt, I was a little annoyed with his friendliness but of course, I didn't say anything.

"Huh, you're being awfully friendly today." Rose teased him. At least I wasn't the only one who noticed it.

"Don't start mom, " Rylan whined at her, his cheeks turning pink.

For some reason the sight of Rylan blushing, made me crack a smile to myself, I think it was the fact he was actually blushing that amused me.

"Oh, that's funny huh?" Rylan looked at me sternly through the mirror, but a smile started to form on his lips when he saw the small smile on my lips.

I quickly washed the smile off my face and looked out the window.

"I don't know, you tell me. You were the one that was blushing." I said sarcastically.

"I wasn't blushing, I must be running a fever, " he grumbled to himself.

"It's a good thing we are almost at the house because I think my little RyRy is embarrassed." Rose laughed at her foster son.

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm just being nice." Rylan huffed.

"Okay, son, whatever you say." Rose smiled at me.

After a good thirty minute drive, we finally pulled into a long driveway. The sun was starting to set but you could still clearly see. The air in my lung almost evaporated when I took in sight of this house.

It was huge! I don't think it would be considered a mansion but it was huge! It was at least three stories. I immediately regretted thinking about having to clean this big house! It'll take me hours! And not to mention cooking for 10 people, I'll never get it all done in 24 hours.

Both Rose and Rylan turned around in their seats to look at me.

"Welcome home Mia, " Rose said smiling brightly at me.

Could this house really become my home?