Love, Harry [l.s]

one

There's no such thing as home. 

It's this illogical concept that I'll never understand. According to society, home is a house filled with people and memories and things you love, and they say everyone has a home. Maybe everyone does, but I don't. Which in turn, makes me a nobody.

I'm unwanted. A reject who's constantly in and out of foster care. Sure, the families try to make the best of this bad situation, but no one wants a 16-year-old who's thrown out of every family he's sent to. All the adopting families want newborn babies or cute toddlers, and if they hadn't realized that already they do when I step foot inside of their house.

The longest a family has kept me is for 7 months and 13 days exactly (yes, I counted) before 'returning' me to the adoption agency. Every time I'm sent back, the families have the same exact reasoning, claiming I just didn't fit within their family dynamic or was simply a difficult child who refused to open up and let them into my life.

Well, if that's the case, then sue me. But when family after family take me in to get a few extra bucks from the government, it feels like I'm some sort of object that they're pawning. And then they have the audacity to claim to care about me without actually giving a shit, before sending me back into the broken foster care system. So yeah, a boy's going to put up some emotional walls after a while.

Some of the families were genuinely nice when I was younger, but not anymore. In their eyes, I'm just a moody teenage boy with attitude issues and a lack of vulnerability. The people at the agency suggest that I 'open up more' to my new families, but they all had loving parents and good childhoods. It's hard to open up when you know each family is just going to get rid of you in a few months anyway and make you feel even more unwanted than you already are. They don't understand that feeling, and they never will.

I barely remember my birth parents, the first people to give me up. I was sent into foster care at the mere age of 3, and it's been absolute hell ever since. I've practically given up all my hopes of finding a good family, and I know right when I hit age 18, I'll be out of here and left to live on my own and fend for myself.

It's been a year since my last foster family, so I'm surprised when the adoption agency director, Claudia Parker, knocks on the door to the little room that they have for me. It's a relatively plain room, with beige walls and a poster or two of my favorite football players up on the walls. The door hinges squeak when I tell her to come in, and she stands in the doorway with a clipboard in her hands. Come to think of it, I don't know if I've ever seen her without one.

"Harry, I have good news. We've found you a new foster family." She looks tired and overworked despite the rumored 'good news' that would put the average person in a relatively good mood. We both know this news really just means it's going to be another painful one or two months before I'm back here again and back to square one.

When I don't respond, she just sighs, knowing I've given up on finding a good family years and years ago. "Harry, I know you don't trust the system, but I think you're going to be a very good fit for this family. Plus, with your past record of staying with your foster families for only a few months, it's getting harder and harder to find you a place to live. So I really need you to go into this with an open mind."

I flop down on my back on my little twin-sized bed, my feet hanging off the end because of my height. I've long since outgrown the bed, but it's better than not having one at all. So I've never complained about it or asked for a new one because I'm grateful for a bed at all. If it wasn't for the agency, I'd be sleeping on the streets and park benches right now. "And if it doesn't work out?"

"Well, that's the bad news. This is probably one of your last chances to get adopted, so we really hope this works out for you and for them. The family has fostered kids before, all younger children and infants, and they wanted to try fostering a teenager this time." She explains to me, and I roll my eyes. It's not going to work so I don't know why we're even trying.