Even The Beautiful Lose Control 1

1

My heart raced as I looked out the window of the old, decrypt Toyota Camry. My social worker, Mr. Wheeler, drove, calmly through the streets of New York City. I fiddled with my classic ipod as I watched. I bit my tongue. The city really did live up to the media hype. It was big and beautiful and daring.

“What are you thinking about, Alejandra?” Mr. Wheeler asked. He had been in charge of my life since my parents died. He stopped at a red light and turned to face me. His warm brown eyes searched mine, and I looked down to the floor of the car.

“Nothing.” I mumbled. Somehow, Mr. Wheeler always knew when I was lying. He, however, never knew what I was really thinking about.

“Don’t be nervous.” He said, starting to drive again, “the Johnston family is great, and they’re excited to have you.” This could technically be my last home until I turn eighteen, in three years. It would be my third home, with a random, do gooder family. I adjusted my fingerless leather gloves and pushed my hair from my eyes

“I’m not nervous.” I replied after a second. It was true. I wasn’t nervous.

“Good,” Mr. Wheeler said, pulling the car into park, “because we’re here.” I looked around, noting turrets and balconies. Great. They were rich.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, my hands shaking. Grabbing the bag that held the few articles of clothes and books, I opened the car door and stepped out.

“Come on.” Mr. Wheeler led me up the set of stairs and knocked on the door.

A smiling lady opened the door. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat chignon, and she wore a dark blue dress.

“Welcome, you must be Alejandra? Did I say that right? I’m Jennifer, come in.” She said in a blur. Jennifer ran a hand over her skirt, while pulling me in.

“Kids!” she shouted up the open stairway, “come meet Alejandra.”

“Ally.” I said, “call me Ally. Nice to meet you too.” I looked around the open front, and a blonde boy and girl came clomping down.

“Mrs. Johnston, if I could talk to you for a minute?” Mr. Wheeler asked. Jennifer nodded.

“Kitchen.” She said, leading the way. Her kitten heels clicked on the tiles. I blinked. She was the stereotypical seventies housewife. I pushed my hair from my eyes again, and looked at the girl and boy. I wasn’t going to make the first movie.

“I’m Diana.” The girl said, “that’s my brother, Caleb.” She stuck out her hand, and a glittering diamond ring winked at me.

“Are you engaged?” I asked. She didn’t look older then sixteen.

“I am.” Diana nodded, her dark blue eyes becoming dreamy. Caleb groaned.

“Come with me. I’ll show you your room.” He said and started up the stairs, taking them two by two. I followed; not bothering to remove my old, work Chuck Ts. Caleb pushed open a door.

“There.” He said sullenly and left me alone.

I was on the big queen bed, unlacing my shoes. I put my bag on the floor and stretched out on my back. My side touched the cotton candy pink walls, and I stared up at the white popcorn ceiling. I smiled to myself. They seemed nice.

“They are nice. Just don’t get arrested and have them give you away. Isn’t that what happened with the Thompson’s?” I sat up and looked around. The voice wasn’t Diana’s high soprano. I looked to the cherry wood desk, and she was sitting there.

Her heart shaped faced had beautiful rosy cheeks, and olive green eyes, nearly exactly to mine. Her black shiny hair fell to her waist in thick curls. She grinned, the exact same mysterious grin that Amerie always had.

“Hey, Ally.” she said and winked and I knew it. I had always assumed that she was dead. She went missing when I was eight and we had never heard of her again.

“Amy.” I breathed, getting up to hug her, “I thought you were dead.” I squeezed her tightly. Her skin was paler then it was and cold. Icy cold.

“Oh, I am. I was killed the second day I was missing. Mom and Dad and the police just never found me, which is sad, because it was super easy.” Amerie said, pushing me away.

“So why are you here now?” I asked.

“Consider me your conscious.” Amerie said, “or your guardian angel. Better yet, your guardian faerie. I’ve always liked Faeires.” I sat back down on the bed, staring at her. For the first time in years, I wanted to cry. I didn’t cry at my parents’ funeral, and hadn’t shed a tear since.

“You’re going to cry.” Amerie pursed her lips and sat on the bed next to me. Her pressed my face into her icy shoulder.

“Cry.” She whispered, “you haven’t cried in a long time. Just cry, Als.” I did. I sobbed into her shoulder like I did when I was four and was scared of thunderstorms.

“Good girl.” Amerie whispered like she used to, rubbing slow circles on my back, “good girl.”