Learn to love

The air in the car is almost unbearable. I can't tell if it's the weather or my own anxiety. Next to me on the back seat lies everything I own, cramped into one bag, which isn't even mine. I'm happy to get out of the home at Lexington and it is a little miracle that I'm not shipped off to a prison. When I stood in front of the judge this time, I was sure I would be behind bars for some time. In the past I was lucky and got off with community service, but this one was “different”. With some effort Mrs Banks managed to convince the judge to let me finish school. The rules were very clear, until the new semester began, I had to work in a local youth center for over 300 hours and during my last year in school I had to live with the Sanders. They're friends with Mrs Banks and agreed to take me in.

Now I'm being taken away to another life for good, away from my friends, my neighborhood and my family. Family isn't quite the right word. I was more than happy to leave that place. After my big sister Julie left three years ago, my mother started to drink even more and most days she slept on the couch, oblivious to everything and everyone around her. It wasn't a home any more.
The day Julie told me, that she would leave, the image of the world I had created in my head shattered. I knew I would miss her, besides the few friends I had, she was the main reason I had hope that one day things would be different. But I also knew that I would do the same if I was in her place.

My hands are shaking. It's a mixture of fear and anticipation. Mrs Banks didn't tell me very much about my foster family, just the headlines. He is in advertisement, she is a housewife. They have two daughters, one son who is going to college and they live in the suburbs. At least the last fact is a comforting one. The home at Lexington I have stayed in for the last six months is at the other side of the city. In that time I hadn't much opportunities to see Brian, Malcolm and especially Mia, my best friend since elementary school. When times were rough I spent almost every second with her, somewhere in the city. We are two sides of the same coin, both our families are seriously messed up, so we know what the other is going trough. If it weren't for her, ........

The driver makes a left and the first thought coming to mind is that this must be a surreal dream. Every house looks almost the same. Same fence, same curtains in the windows, same SUV parked in the driveway. For a guy who lived his whole life in a shabby apartment in a run-down part of the city, this seems like another world.

After we pass over a dozen houses we stop at the sidewalk. The house is nice, ordinary. A double garage, neatly trimmed grass, big windows, a white door, a model home. The driver turns around and smiles. He has been paid in advance. With the bag slung over my shoulder, I get out of the car and walk to the entrance.

“SANDERS” it says in big letters engraved over the doorbell. With much effort I manage to stop my hand from trembling and press the doorbell.
Ding-Dong.