Forgive Or Forget

Chapter One : Jessica

The Edwards foundation consists of a dreary grey building, scattered windows and a lot of shouting. I haven't been here for three years and yet nothing has changed in respect to the building or me. I've yet again been abandoned  and the building still can't afford new flooring. I can still voice what Clara and David said to me word by word ; a lot of 'It has been lovely, so lovely but..' and 'we'll always hold a special place for you'. I still hardly understand why they didn't want me anymore, my social worker, Walter, didn't seem to understand either, though he wouldn't be allowed to say it without their consent anyway, confidential information and all that. I'm honesty not that upset, bit shocked but not like sad. I didn't see it coming, which makes me sound stupid but I really didn't, there weren't any signs like you see on tv when they suddenly stop laughing at their jokes as much or spending time with them. Everything was fine, normal. 

I've been in five foster families from the ages of three to seventeen. The first one was the longest but the least significant, in my opinion. I was in the Owens' household for four years, and I don't remember much of them, the mum was nice, Kelly, though I didn't see her much, she always had work, but we'd talk in the mornings about our previous days. The dad was okay, he and Kelly fought a lot. The second foster family had two other foster kids and two biological children, it was quite hectic a lot and I didn't like it, I think that the other kids saw that and took their opportunities to show their displeasure to me. The third time I was put in a foster home, I was nine and met my now social worker Walter, he has in a way been my one constant through out this. The family was very nice, Walter told me that they had been trying for a baby for a really long time and when they realised that wasn't possible for them, they researched into the wormhole that is the foster and adoption system. They would let me climb into bed and cuddle with them when I had nightmares, the mum would sit by my bed and stroke my nose lightly to get me to fall asleep, the dad helped me learn to read as I was very far behind after refusing to do any school work when I was in my second foster home. They were the closest to a family I ever had, after staying there for three months I crept by their door and heard them talking about adopting me. But things never go that way, I learnt that the hard way in this system. 

Grace got diagnosed with stage four cancer and her condition worsened quickly. Graham struggled, one day he took me out on a car ride, just me and him for the first time. I still remember his hoarse yet calm voice whispering to me whilst avoiding my eye in the rear mirror. 'Jessica, I need you to listen to me, no interruptions at all, okay? Your mum, Grace, she isn't doing well. The doctors have told me they don't see her getting better.' My eyes began welling up. "You understand that, don't you, Grace? She's not going to get any better.' He had began looking at me now and I was crying silently, I knew what was coming. 'If she- when she dies, I won't be able to take care of you. I've contacted Walter and filed almost all the paperwork and tomorrow, you are leaving..'

I don't remeber much of anything else he followed up with or what I even said. I never saw Grace again or got to say bye, the night I was packing my bag she went to have a operation done, I think in a way he planned it so we'd not see each other. 

Foster family four was not a family. It was a old couple; Maggie and Jim who simply wanted someone to help around the house, someone to read to them. It felt like in a way a payed internship, I would read them the newspaper, make their breakfast and they'd give me cash for school food or to go to the cinema. It went on for three years until Maggie died peacefully in her bed and Jim got ill, his daughter plainly told me, 'Maybe it's time for you to go.' And so I did. I didn't grow attached to Maggie and Jim but to their simple lifestyle. 

They made things easy, I could do anything as long as I didn't break their three simple rules: 

-No drugs or alcohol consumption in the house

-No inviting any boys

-No foul language within the house

And so I followed those rules. 

When Maggie died, Walter told me to expect that I might spend a while in the children's home as there weren't many people looking to foster fourteen year olds but surprisingly almost immediately the Moore family requested to meet Walter and then me. They spoke very freely compared to what I was used to, generally families seeking to foster speak very gently as they think that one huff and Walter will refuse them on any adoption agencies ever. The Moore family, despite their surname was very standard English middle clash, they had two children, Olivia who was two years older than me and Archie who was three when I first arrived. The dad didn't say much, but not in a weird way, he just didn't speak a lot in general, he was happy just watching the football with a whiskey. Julie was lovely, she was a small woman with a huge heart and constantly cooking and baking treats for us all, though she had a short temper and her and Olivia would constantly fight. Over the years I spent in their house, I didn't really grow close to any of them except Olivia, we both had school together and she helped me greatly with my gcses by offering advice and listing effective revision techniques. Olivia was my one true friend, she stood up for me as I was bullied in year ten for being a 'spotty face bitch'.  

From then onwards, we promised to stay in touch when and or if I'd ever have to go.