Assignment 3 - independent writing

This is part of a larger piece that is YOUR fault!!!

Your assignment started something I no longer have control over!!!

Here I am WAY behind in my classes - I don't have time for a story to be beating against my brain - trying to get out onto paper - but YOUR assignment put it there! So now I am eating, sleeping, and DREAMING this stupid story - it won't leave me alone! :) LOL Just kidding - I love it that your prompt got my creative juices flowing - so I'm trying to twist it around to use parts of it for my classes. Got some good dialogue out of it, too! (different section - turned in to dialogue class)

Story so far: John has arrived at his new foster home. He is 11 years old, full of the terrible reality of multiple foster homes, expecting the worst from life - but still grasping desparately at a small kernel of hope. Depending on your assignments you will probably see more of this later, but this part seemed to fit the numbers assignment for now.

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On the way downstairs, Lissy continued to fill John's head with facts about his new home and family. He now knew that Linda was 43 years old, and Tom was 44. Grampa J was Linda's dad, 74 years old, and a teddy bear whose growl was worse than his bite. Linda worked at the library 15 hours a week, while the kids were in school, and Tom worked two jobs. Lissy continued on about how hard Tom worked, but that he kept his weekends free for the family. John doubted that Tom really worked 60 hours a week. More likely, he was at a friends house or something. Every foster parent he knew lived off of the money from the state. The more kids they took in, the more money they got. It was that simple.

He also learned that Jenny was nine, and had been abandoned at a church by her mom two months ago. It sounded like drugs were the cause. As they made their way through the living room and dining room, Lissy told him what she knew about William. He had arrived four months ago, and didn't speak at all for three. He was 14 years old, but only in the eighth grade. She didn't know his full story, but obviously it wasn't pleasant. John could imagine some of the things William may have been through. He'd been through it himself.

As they got closer to the kitchen, John's mouth began to water. The smell was wonderful. He slowed his steps to enjoy it fully. Everything Lissy had said so far had sounded good, he prayed this wasn't where it fell apart. So many times, food was used to punish or tease. At one place, all he got was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with occasional bowls of cereal, while the parents ate steak. He hoped he would get to taste whatever was making that wonderful smell today.

"Uh, hello.." Lissy was looking back at him, almost to the kitchen door. "You were drifting again." She smiled, reaching for his hand to bring him along.

"Oh, I suppose I should ask first." She said, withdrawing her hand.

"Uh, ask what?" John said, confused.

"Do you mind being touched? Some people do, you know."

"Um, no, no, it's fine." He said, thinking it really depended on how he was being touched.

"Good," She smiled, grabbing his hand. "but don't touch William. He's not ready yet."
With that, she pulled him into the kitchen.