Atrophy- Part1 (Riddhima's point of view)
I walked into my social workers office for the fifth and hopefully final time. The pale blue walls were fading from the first time I've been here. And the oak flooring was getting worn. The room was a perfect square. In one corner, sat my social workers desk, with two chairs. Opposite that, were the filing cabinets. Why did she need them when she has a computer? I've always wondered that. By the window, was the tiny sitting area. I usually sat there whenever I was waiting for whoever was taking me in.
I had a different childhood than most. I was beaten by my father. My mother would usually take my beatings for me. I loved her dearly. And I made sure she knew that everyday. I told her that in the mornings when I went to school. During lunch when she picked me up, after school, and before I went to bed. My father was jealous of the relationship we shared. So, one day when I was in school, he decided to take her out of my life. For good.
I went to school that morning, telling my mom I loved her. It was just before lunch that the police arrived, plucking me out of class to bring me home. They told me what happened during the drive there. It was all lies. My father had told them that he came home from work for lunch to surprise my mother. Yea right. And when he walked in, my mother had a knife in her chest. So, in other words, my father stabbed my mother in the chest. The police told me she looked as if she was beaten first.
By the time the police got to the house, my father had the knife hidden. I have no idea where he put it, but he lucked out. When I hopped out of the police car, my father took my in his arms and 'cried' while I sobbed into his shirt. When the police left, taking my mother - who was in a body bag - with them, my father had smirked at me evilly, and started beating me. I begged and begged for it to stop. I was eight when that happened.
When I turned fourteen, I had enough. I was fed up with my father. I had to clean the house. I had to cook the meals. I had to endure pain. I wasn't going to do it anymore. So, the Friday after my fourteenth birthday, I skipped school, and went to Social Services. I showed them my bruises, my cuts and my burns. They took my out of my father's house the next night, and I stayed at an abused women's shelter until after my father's court case. He was charged with murder, abuse and child abuse. He got twenty years in jail. I hoped that when he was released, he's forgotten all about me.
In the past two years, I've gone to four different families. The Talwars's, Jambu's, Hari' and Rai's. It was exactly like living with my father, but without the beatings. I had to clean, I had to cook, and I had to care for the little kids. I did all of that, on top of my school work. Eventually, I had to drop out because I couldn't keep up with everything.
I went through a cycle. I'd get a family. I'd stay with them for six months. After that, they'd take me back to my social worker, who'd get me a new family. Then, the cycle repeated. Which is exactly why I'm here now? The Rais couldn't keep me. No, they just didn't want me. So, here I am, in the room I've been in many times before, with my social worker, Jan, sitting across from me, giving me a disapproving look. Eventually, she sighed.
"Well, Riddzy, let's hope this is the last time, right?" I nodded, not saying anything. "Here's information on your next family. Read up." I took the folder from her, and on the front, in big bold block letters was 'THE MALIKS'. I opened it, and read through it. Darresh and Chandini Malik. Why did those names sound familiar? Darresh was a movie producer, and Chandini was a movie star. That explains it. And their son, Armaan, was the star of "Where My Heart Was Found". Great. I'm going to be living with snobs! That's just what I need.
I can see the headlines now: Malik's Take in Troubled Teen. I rolled my eyes, and closed the folder, sliding in on the desk. Jan looked up from her computer, and filed the folder away. "You can read or whatever while you wait for them. They should be here in about two hours." I sighed, and walked over to the sitting room, stretching the lengths of it. I didn't get enough sleep last night. The bunks they have here is just like sleeping on gravel. I knew that when I woke up, I'd meet my new 'famous' family. Great.
"Riddzy?" I opened my eyes, and Jan was standing above me. "Go get cleaned up. The Malik's should be here in a few minutes." I nodded, and sat up, stretching. I walked into Jan's bathroom. I still don't know why she has one. It's got everything in it. I looked in the mirror, and groaned. It will take forever to get the caked on make up off. I grabbed a wash cloth, and soaked it in hot water. I started scrubbing everything off.
I used Jan's make up to replace mine, and used her comb to brush through the knots in my hair. I fixed my skirt and my tank top, before making everything was perfect. I wanted to make a good first impression on these people. The last thing I want is to look like a hobo the first time I meet my new family. Hopefully last. I sighed, looking at myself in the mirror. The bags I knew I had under my eyes earlier aren't visible anymore, but I knew they were there. I ran a hand through my hair, and sighed. I looked at my clothes again, and walked out of the bathroom.
I froze.
Two very rich looking people stood in front of me, talking to Jan. Jan looked over, and smiled. She walked over, and took my hand, pulling me towards the Malik's. "Darresh, Chandini, this is Riddhima. Or, as she likes it, Riddzy." I smiled, and stuck my hand out.
"Oh, Riddzy. We're family now. We don't shake hands. We hug!" She told me, pulling me into a loving hug. I smiled, and hesitantly hugged her back. She pulled away, and Darresh replaced her. It's been so long since I've had physical contact with a member of my 'family'. He pulled back, and ruffled my hair. "Darresh! You messed up her beautiful hair!" Chandini scolded. I smiled slightly. For rich and famous people, they sure act normal.
"Armaan..." Chandini looked towards the sitting area, and Armaan sat there, his headphones in his ears. "Armaan Darresh Malik!" She exclaimed. Armaan jumped, and looked at her, taking the ear buds out of his ears, grumbling. He stood up, 'dusting' off his clothes, and walked over.
"What?"
"Meet Riddzy, your new sister." He looked at me for a second, and smiled. I nodded, letting him know I acknowledged him. He looked shocked. He was probably waiting for the scream and the, 'Oh My God! It's Armaan Darresh Malik!' But, he wasn't going to get it. Darresh and Chandini followed Jan to her desk to sign the papers. While they were there, I made out a few words, 'Glad', "Finally got my girl' and 'adoption'.
Whoa. Hold up. ADOPTION?! I was going to be living with these people permanently? I mean, I know I wished this was my last home, but they're making it permanent! Did they know about my past? Did Jan tell them? As I worried over that, I didn't notice Armaan looking at me with a confused face. He may have seen my eyes widen, or heard my breath quicken, or seen my posture go still. But, who knows. Maybe he's still shocked I never screamed or anything.
A couple minutes later, Darresh and Chandini walked back over, smiling hugely. "Okay, Riddzy, let's get your stuff and get going. I can't wait to show you where you'll be living." She squealed, taking me hand. She looked around the room, then back at me confused. "Don't you have any belongings?" I shook my head, my cheeks burning red. She smiled. "Well, we can go shopping when we get to Hollywood." My eyes widened.
They lived in Hollywood? I get to leave this State?! YES!
I nodded, and followed the Maliks out of the room and out of the building. I noticed a long stretch limo, and immediately knew that was our ride. I was right. Darresh helped me in - it was three feet off the ground! - And I sat by the other door, sitting quietly. The other three piled in, and the limo drove off. I looked around in amazement. There was a mini bar, a flat screen TV, a stereo system. There was just about everything.
"Not a talker, Riddzy?" Darresh asked. I looked over, and felt my cheeks heat up again. I shook my head slightly, and crossed my legs. I now regretted wearing Elizabeth's skirt instead of her jeans. Elizabeth was a girl who was abused too. We were friends, but not good ones. I feel kind of bad for leaving her in that hell hole. She had to sleep on those uncomfortable beds, and I took her skirt and top.
"So, Riddzy, excited to be moving to Hollywood?" Chandini asked from beside me. I nodded, and let a smile spread across my face.
"Yea. It'll be fun." I said quietly. Chandini smiled.
"Do you like shopping?" I nodded rapidly. I loved it. But, I never got to do much of it because my previous families didn't have the money.
"Yea. It's my favorite sport." Chandini smiled, while Armaan scoffed.
"Shopping's not a sport." I looked at him for a minute, then looked down at my shoes, my cheeks burning again.
"Of course it is Armaan!" Chandini defended. "I haven't seen you hold 50 bags of nothing but clothes, and walk around our mall for hours before." Chandini added. I stifled a giggle at Armaan's shocked face. He probably wasn't expecting his mother to go against him. Sure, I wasn't ready for it either.
"Whatever." He muttered, turning back to the TV, changing the channel as Darresh protested. Chandini rolled her eyes, and turned to me, smiling.
"Shopping is a sport, hey, sweetie." I smiled, and nodded. Chandini reminded me so much of my mother. They had the personality. And Chandini had long black hair as well. A few tears welled in my eyes as I thought of my mother, and Chandini became alarmed.
"Oh, my Riddzy. Did I say something?" She asked, wiping the tears from my eyes. I shook my head.
"No. J-just remembering my mother." Chandini and Darresh looked at me with a knowing look. So they did know. Jan did tell them my past. Oh well, one less sob story I have to tell.
"What about your mother?" Armaan asked, looking up from his phone. I shook my head, looking away. I wasn't ready for him to know yet. Really, I wasn't ready for anyone to know and it all happened eight years ago. I looked down at my feet again, and sighed, leaning against the door.
After a few hours of driving, and small talk with Chandini and Darresh, we arrived in Hollywood. I was surprised with all the lights and everything. It was around 8:30, making the city beautiful. It took about another hour to arrive at the Malik home, and looking at the giant house in front of me, made me feel at home. Made me feel loved.
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PRIYA❤️
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