“Sure,” I replied, “Hop in.”I moved some papers in had in the passenger seat to the back seat as she rounded my car and then settled into the ...ront seat.“I really appreciate you stopping,” she said, brushing back a lock of hair that had fallen into her face. She was cute. I glanced at her left hand to see if perhaps she was wearing a wedding band. She was not.“You’ll have to tell me where to go,” I said.“You’re doing fine and going in the right direction,” she replied. She made a vain attempt. It is no use; no matter how hard I tried, I cannot free myself. So far my venture into adulthood has began rather horridly.My eighteenth birthday was celebrated with my social worker smiling as I signed paperwork and my foster parents slipping me a twenty as they wished me well in life. My social worker offered to drop me off anywhere of my choosing, but I declined. As far as I was concerned, the sooner I got away from the painted faced gargoyle, the better.I already had a plan set in place. In. More

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