Quick note: it's been a long time since I posted on here. Even though my stories were well-received, I haven't had a whole lot of ideas for new ones. But one of my first stories was "New Home," which revolved around the protagonist Oliver/Olivia being turned into a girl and going to an all-girls foster home, only to find out that the foster mom isn't quite what she seems. For a while now, I've been wanting to revisit that idea and maybe create an improved version of that story. And now the day has arrived.

With that-enjoy.

***

Landon Evans hated his life. He was fifteen years old and lived in Nashville, Tennessee. He was a social outcast at his high school, and his home life wasn't much better. His father Richard was an alcoholic who frequently got angry and hit Landon. The situation was so bad, Landon's mother had abandoned the family when Landon was only five. Landon had called the police several times about his abusive father, but whenever the police showed up, Richard acted very pleasant towards them and gave no impression of being a drunkard. Therefore, the police never believed Landon's stories.

It all came to a head one gloomy Thursday evening. Landon had spent the day helping his dad clean their apartment complex, and now he and Richard were eating their dinner. "You're still going to Leland's house tonight, yes?" Richard asked as he ate his Ramen noodles.

"Yes," Landon answered. Leland was one of the few friends he knew from school. Even though it was summer vacation, and school wouldn't start for a few more weeks, Landon went over to his house almost every evening. After dinner was the time when Richard got drunk and had a much shorter temper. Landon had learned a long time ago that he was better off getting out of the house when his father was drunk.

"Well, just make sure to do our dinner dishes before you go," said Richard.

"I will," said Landon. He finished eating his Ramen noodles and took his bowl over to the sink to start washing. He quickly scrubbed out his bowl and spoon, then did the same for his father's utensils. Once they were all sparkling clean, Landon set them down on a towel to dry and went to go get his shoes on.

"Bye, Dad!" Landon said as he was heading out the door. Richard didn't respond-not that Landon was expecting him to. His father often pretended to care about him, but it was obvious to Landon that that wasn't the case. Richard never asked Landon about his school life, or his friends, or anything else. When he wasn't yelling or thrashing at Landon, Richard only communicated with his son when he wanted him to do chores. If Landon was being honest with himself, he thought Richard had only had a kid so he could use said kid as a servant.

Landon and his father lived in an apartment on the third floor of a large apartment complex. When Landon left his apartment, he immediately made for the stairway that led down to the bottom level. But he'd only made it halfway there when his father came thundering out after him. "Where are you going?" Richard growled. "You were supposed to dust the living room!"

"What?" Landon asked. "No I wasn't!" This was a fairly common habit of Richard's-he'd make Landon do one chore, then berate him for not doing a completely unrelated chore. But right now, Landon could smell the alcohol on his father's breath.

"Yes you were!" Richard replied. "And you're gonna come right back in and dust our family room!"

"No!" said Landon.

"Yes you are!" Richard lunged forward and grabbed Landon's left arm. Landon tried to break free, but his dad had an iron grip. He held Landon by the arm and started to drag him back toward their apartment.

"Let go of me!" Landon growled. He balled his right fist and punched Richard across the face. His hit disoriented Richard just enough to make him loosen his grip, allowing Landon to yank his left arm free.

Unfortunately, it didn't take long for Richard to regain his senses. "Don't you punch me, you little shit!" He clenched his fists and rounded on Landon again. But this time, Landon was ready. He karate-kicked Richard in the chest with all his might. Richard stumbled backward and fell over the balcony's guardrail. He tumbled through the air and landed headfirst onto the concrete below.

"What the..." Landon looked over the edge of the balcony and saw his father lying on the ground below. There was a big spot of blood where his head had hit, and his body was motionless. That meant...

"Oh no..." Landon gasped. His adrenaline was wearing off, and he was starting to panic. He'd just killed his own father! But it was self-defense, right? Hadn't Richard been about to pound him? No, Landon thought. No one would believe him. He was a minor, and whenever he called the police to report domestic violence, they hadn't believed him. Why would anyone believe him now?

Landon turned and ran. He went down the stairs, ran past Richard's dead body, and went out onto the street. Where could he go? Leland's house? No, he couldn't get Leland or his family mixed up in all this. But there was nowhere else he could go. Landon would have to get out of the city. He took a deep breath and started running down the street.

After running for several city blocks, Landon finally stopped to catch his breath. He didn't hear any sirens coming his way, so that was good. But it was only a matter of time before someone discovered Richard's dead body and linked him to the crime. Landon had to keep moving. He started down the street again, but this time he walked. Running may have been a faster means of travel, but it also made him look guilty. Walking at a normal rate would draw a lot less attention.

Eventually, when Landon was rounding a corner, he heard a siren wailing. Uh-oh! Landon frantically looked around for a place to hide-a garbage can, a car, anything. But the only place he saw was an alleyway nearby. Landon ducked into the alleyway and held his breath. He heard the police car which the siren belonged to driving down the street past the alleyway, but the police car did not stop. It went right past where Landon was hiding and off down the street-presumably toward Landon's apartment complex.

Once he was certain that the police car was gone, Landon left the alleyway. But once he'd stepped back out onto the sidewalk, he bumped right into a woman walking down the street. "Oh-sorry about that!" said Landon.

"No, it's okay," said the woman. She was about thirty-five years old, with curly blonde hair, smooth tanned skin, and shiny painted fingernails. She wore a white tank top, a smooth black skirt, and high-heeled shoes. "Where'd you come from?"

"Well, uh..." Landon wasn't about to admit to murder, but his mind was going blank on excuses. "I'm...homeless."

The woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Homeless, you say?"

"Yeah."

"My, my, what a coincidence," said the woman. "I work at a foster home for kids like yourself."

"You do?"

"Yes. Would you like me to arrange to take you in?"

Landon thought for a moment. He'd heard a lot of bad things about foster homes from other kids his age. He didn't like the idea of moving into one himself. But right now, he couldn't really go back to his apartment. Maybe a foster home would be a good place to stay while he figured out what to do next.

"Sure."

"Excellent. What's your name?"

"Landon."

"Great. I'm Ruth Kayne, but you can just call me Ruth. If you come with me, I'll take you to my car."

Ruth's car wasn't anything special-just a black Ford Fusion. But when Landon got into the passenger's seat, he thought it felt pretty nice. Plus, the car had air conditioning, so that was a plus. "Are we gonna go right to the foster home?" Landon asked.

"Er, not quite yet," Ruth answered. "I'm gonna have to talk to my boss about letting you move in. But for tonight, you can stay at my house."

***

When they got to Ruth's house, Landon was pretty impressed with what he saw. It had a kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, a laundry room, and a garage-all of which were pretty spacious. Sure, the furniture didn't look particularly expensive, but it was better than anything at Landon's apartment.

"So what happened to you, young man?" Ruth asked. "What made you homeless?"

"Well...it was my dad," Landon answered.

"What did he do? Did he kick you out of the house?"

Landon hesitated. "You could say that."

Ruth nodded. "It sounds like he wasn't a very good father."

"Yeah, he was-he's a drunkard. And he always gets really mad and takes it out on me."

"That is unfortunate. Did you ever try calling the police?"

"Yes, but they didn't do anything."

Ruth shook her head. "Policemen," she scoffed. "You can never rely on them for protection."

"I know. That's why I had to get physical with my dad."

"What?"

Landon realized he'd said the wrong thing. "I, uh..." He wished he could take it back, but it was too late. "I was being assaulted by my dad, and I...well...I kicked him and knocked him over the edge of my apartment's balcony."

"You did what?"

"I didn't mean to! He was threatening me, and I was acting in self-defense! I ran away because I knew the cops wouldn't believe me if I told them what happened!"

For a few seconds, Ruth just stood there in shock. Then she unexpectedly hugged Landon. "Oh, Landon," she said. "That must be awful, knowing that you killed your own father."

"I know!" said Landon. "And I don't know how I'm gonna escape the police when they find out it was me who killed him! I don't have anywhere I can go, or anyone to-"

"You have me," said Ruth. "You're perfectly safe here for the night. I promise, we will figure all of this out in the morning."

Landon nodded. "Okay."

***

Since Ruth didn't have a guest room, she had Landon sleep on her living room's couch with a pillow and blanket. Once she'd helped him get to bed, and he'd nodded off, Ruth went into her bedroom to call her boss. She dialed her boss' number and waited a few seconds while the phone rang.

After a few seconds, there was a click, followed by a smooth, feminine voice. "Good evening, Ruth," said the voice.

"Hi Angelina," said Ruth. "I have some good news for you."

"Oh, you do?"

"Yes. I have found him. The boy you were looking for, Landon Evans-I've got him here at my house."

Angelina squealed in delight. "Finally!" she said. "I've been looking for him for years!"

"Do you want me to bring him right to you in the morning?"

"No, admit him to foster care at your building for now," said Angelina. "Give him some time to settle into his new life. Or, more accurately, her new life."

To be continued...