Chapter 7:Miss. Dawn

I took one step inside the Social Service's Office, and the smell of incense tingled my sences. The walls were painted a pale blue and a huge light dangle from the ceiling. I approaced the reception desk, where a tall thing pale looking woman stood. On her badge it said Mrs. Rice. Her hair was up in a tight bun which looked like hay had been dumped on her head. Her eyes were grey and sunken into her wrinkly features and knareld bones. Her cheeks looked pinched and she glared at me, as I stood the nervously fiddling with my sleeve.
"May I help you?", her voice sounded cold and posh. It gave me the creeps.
"I'm Zara. I was told to come here to be fostered", I said shyly, staring at the floor.
Mrs. Rice stared at me over her long nose and began to look through files and type away at a computer. After a while beeps occured in the machine, and it begand printing out something. Mrs. Rice riped it away from the printer and studied it. 10 Minutes passed and eventually she broke the stilled air.
"Ah yes Zara Rose? Is that right?", I silently nodded, and my hair fell about my shoulders. She began to type away and called over a microphone "Miss. Dawn to reception. I repeat Miss. Dawn to reception".
"Take a seat", Mrs. Rice said calmly. Pointing to the rows of seats behind me, I went and sat down. Pondering on what was going to happen next.
I waited for about half an hour and then a tall slim woman entered the room. She had brown hair which hung down by her hips and crystal green eyes. She approached me and rested a clip board on her lap. Her perfume filled my sences.
"I'm Miss. Dawn, I will be your social worker" she extended her hand and I shook it. I smiled, I couldn't believe how nice she was. Finally I thought. Finally someone who's being nice to me.
"If you could follow me I need to ask you some questions and find you a new home", she stood up and led me down a dull hallway and into a room with only a table and two chairs in it. Reminded me of the places from movies I'd seen the mother watch. When people were asked things for evidence in court and stuff. Miss. Dawn sat down and motioned me to sit opposite her in the opposite chair.
The room was dimly lit and filled with the smell of a newly polished floor. I sat down as my eyes adjusted to take in my surrondings. I thumbled with my hands and wringed them wondering what type of things I would be asked.
"I'm just going to ask you a few questions, its nothing to worry about just be honest ok?", Miss. Dawn spoke clearly and her voice echoed about the empty room. I nodded and sat stiffly on the edge of my chair. I kept thinking the mother would appear out of no where and slap me hard like she always did. Then the questions began,
"What did your mother actually do to you? How did she hurt you?". My heart beat fast inside me. I couldn't tell her. I'd already told to many people about mother and I. But I thought to myself I might as well. It might put the mother away behgind bars, as they would say in films. I slowly but surely began to answer.
"Well the mother would hit me alot, and she would just abuse me, so I avoided her".
"Why did she abuse you?".
"I never knew the real reason. I think it was because she drank alchol and took drugs or I think the pills were drugs". Miss. Dawn was hurriedly writing my every word, and she continued with the questions.
"Where did you avoid her too, where did you hide?"
"My room", I knew what she was going to ask next.
"What did you do up there?"
"Listened to music", I was despratley trying to avoid the depression.
"Did you self harm yourself at all?", how could her voice be so calm. I didn't know how to answer and I automatically replied with "No". I felt Miss Dawn stare at me form the other side of the table,
"Show me your wrists", she commanded. I remained stationery. I couldnt I couldnt, She got up and walked over to me. She took my hand gently and pushed my hoody sleeve away. She gasped as I looked away a single tear in my eye. She was looking at my arm which was not pale like the rest of my skin. It was tinted red and dried up blood cuts were all over it, mostly around the main vein. She put my sleeve back and I turned up to see her muttering "why".