I looked around my new room and took
it all in. It was nice. Better than most of the places I’ve lived so far
anyway. After giving me a tour of the house Karen left me up here so I could
“unpack”, but I know I’m not staying here long so I throw my bag on the bed for
now. I give the place 7, maybe 8, months. The longest any place has ever
lasted was 9 months, not including where I lived till I was 7.The walls were an
aqua blue and there was a desk and queen size bed. There was a huge window that
you can sit by and look out onto the street. The closet was a decent size too.
I couldn’t help but wonder why I was
there. This family was perfect, from what I could tell. Karen, the mom, is
caring, sweet, and nice. She cleans, cooks, and stays at home. Steve, the dad,
worked at a car dealership most of the day, but was always home in time to kiss
his wife and eat dinner. Nick, their son, was a straight A student, captain of
the football, and I’m guessing the most popular kid in his high school. Lucy,
their daughter, was a cute girl and a bit of a nerd. It’s the most cliché
family ever. Why would they want me in their lives?
“I’m home!” I hear a boy yell from
somewhere downstairs. It must be Nick getting home from school. I glance
outside the window once more before heading out of the room and downstairs. I
walk into the kitchen to see Karen cleaning the counter while asking Nick how
his day was. Nick had his head stuck in the refrigerator though. When he
emerged he replied with “It was fine Mom. How did it go with that foster girl?
Where is she?”
“Here” I said. Both of them turned
to look at me. “I heard you come in. I thought I’d come introduce myself.”
“Oh, Right! Sorry, my name’s Nick”
He replied he held out his hand and we shook. He was tall, much taller than me.
He had dark short hair, but not buzz-cut short. His eyes were an emerald green.
He was handsome, I’ll admit it, but not my type.
“Charlotte. Charlie for short.” I
answer.
In a motherly tone, Karen says “Well
dinner will be ready at six. Make yourself at home Charlie. What’s mine is
yours. You can go on the computer, watch Tv, or I have a few books on my book
shelf if you like.”
I nodded and smiled my way through
the rest of the evening. They asked me questions like “ How long have you been
in foster care?” or “Do you play any sports?” and I answered in kind and
optimistic ways such as “ Just since I was 7” and “Not currently, but I’m open
to new things”. It got old pretty quick, but I stuck through it. This was a
chance I may never get again, I was not going to ruin it…on purpose.
As I lie in bed trying to sleep I
thought of myself, of who I am and what got me here. I didn’t belong in this
family that was for sure. There they are in their neat clothes and picture
perfect smiles. Then there’s me a short girl that is almost always decked out
in black and/or leather. I’m the girl with long pitch black hair, bright blue
streaks and electric blue eyes. I’m the girl who listens to punk rock music and
considers combat boots casual wear. I’m the unwanted girl. My father left when
I was a baby and my mom left me to die when I was 7. I have lived in more
foster homes than I can count on my fingers. The sad part? I don’t mind. It
hurts me to think about my past but I also know that it could have been worse.
I could have died or stayed in an orphanage till I was 18 or emancipated.
So, when I
looked around my new room and thought about my day and the days to come, I
smiled. Just one more adventure, right?
