BellaNotte wrote:
PLOTS:
Your parents always tried to mix you with the best people possible, and that worked, until your third year of secondary school. Your parents were fairly well off, you lived in a nice enough house, and you were rarely short of money, but your mum and dad never seemed to notice you, they were always working or going out together. So your money never stopped you from making the worst kind of 'friends'. They were fine at first, but then, as you all got a little bit older, they began smoking, drinking, doing things you didn't even want to think about at that age, but of course, you wanted to fit in. You were in an abusive friendship, fueled by peer pressure. By the time you were sixteen, you had gotten in trouble with the police more times than you could count on your hands. It was pretty tough, you never even wanted it to happen. Then, one day, at a party, your friends abandoned you, you had no way of getting home. So you end up sitting outside, crying, you're completely hammered, you have no money, no coat and no way of getting home. So when some man stops his car on the road next to you and asks if you need a lift, you don't reject the offer. However, he drops you home, and spends about an hour talking to you outside your house as you waited for your parents to get home from some fancy meal. The next morning you wake up with a vague recollection of him, and a number on your hand.
----
Your family put you up for adoption when you were seven, leaving you with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing and a name, and memories. So many memories. Everyone always told you that as you get older, the thoughts would go away, they told you that you would forget everything, but you didn't. People tried to foster you, but you were never what they were looking for, you were always too quiet or too loud, too pathetic or too willing, too difficult or too easy. Then you just got too old and everyone overlooked you. Nobody wanted to adopt a sixteen year old who still got nightmares about her parents nine years down the line. You got by alone, you always had done. But one day, you went into a cafe on a slow day and ended up chatting to one of the waiters for nearly an hour, he was interesting and different, he seemed to care about you, and had no problem listening to your stories until the next costumer came in. he was a bit older than you, but you went back to the cafe quite often, and that was when you realised that you didn't want to go it alone anymore.
----
Camden was at his best friend's friend's party, knowing that his parents were off on a vacation and that their street and group of friends needed a little livening up. He was into the party scene much but his best friend had dragged him, telling him to get some fresh air and actually talk to some people for once. Whatever, he replied to what Luca had said to him. It wasn't his fault that he wasn't a people person or that he didn't particularly like using questionable substances or downing alcohol straight from the can or grinding his junk against a girl he didn't know at all to shitty music. However, Luca was not having it so here Camden was, sitting on the stairs of somebody's house, watching as the seconds went by on his watch. Luca was elsewhere, probably in the living room or pool being drunk as hell. Well, he did need a ride home, so that's why Camden was still there. No one had noticed that he was alone; they were too out of their senses to realise, to arrogant to care.
Katara was still at the care home, locked inside her bedroom as she started to flick paint against her lifeless, white walls. They were like a blank canvas, and seeing as she thoroughly believed she was staying here forever she thought she could make this room her own. Nina, one of the social workers here, had cheerily encouraged it, and although Katara knew that she had meant well, Kat just thought she was thinking the same. That she would stay here forever. That no one will adopt her.
Once she finally gotten bored of watching paint dry, she decided to go out and head down to the shops. Maybe hanging with people she didn't know would comfort her in some way. She'd finally fit in and no one could ever tell her she didn't belong there.
Pulling on her coat, she stormed outside the care home without telling anyone, a normal routine for Kat. She made sure she had take. Her side bag, which had her phone and wallet, and some other things she had been meaning to take out. A few minutes had made her wonder which shop she would go inside first, so she went into the music store and looked at all the new albums she couldn't have. Whilst she had bought her wallet with her, she had no money. When the kind assistant lady had asked if she needed any help, Kat just kindly turned her offer away and instead walked out of the shop and turned to the multiple clothes shops to do the same, although she did try on a few things. Afterwards, she was exhausted and just wanted to go into the local cafe and plug in her headphones and listen to some music on her phone. As she walked in, she had accidentally bumped into someone and put both hands to cover her mouth. "I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, feeling her cheeks burn pink. Maybe this was why nobody wants to adopt you, a voice whispered into her mind. But she ignored it, kneeling down to the person, trying to help but not knowing what to do.
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