92. Callie

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Now Dad was around all the time. And every time he came into a room where I was or I went into a room where he was, he would try to get my attention and talk to me. But I was done with him. Eventually, they'd be giving me back to the Children's Home so what was the point in even bothering?

Brendon was leaving.

Sarah would probably dump me when he did.

Until then, I'd go to school, do my homework and stay out of everyone's way.

A tear fell from my eye as I worked on my math homework. I didn't want to leave here. I didn't want to go back to that stupid Children's Home. They hated me there. I'd run away if they did take me back.

I wiped my eyes, trying to keep the numbers on the page from swimming.

Eventually, I couldn't handle it anymore. I threw myself on my bed and I cried. I thought I'd found a family. I thought I had my forever family. But it turned out they were no better than any other foster family.

Suddenly, there was a hand on my back. I turned my head and looked. It was Brendon. I turned my head away from him. He tried to turn me over, but I resisted and held onto my pillow.

Eventually, he got up. I waited a few minutes to make sure he'd left my room. I stared at the wall beside my bed.

The lyrics to High Hopes was in the water painted on the wall beside my bed. I'd had high hopes I'd found a family. But I guess not.

I hated this room now. I was so mad, I picked up my math book and threw it across the room. Then my notebook and pencil case. Then I was so mad I started throwing books off my shelf and stuffed animals, my lamp, my phone, I just threw stuff and pulled clothes out of drawers and threw them. I threw shoes and whatever I could get my hands on.

Arms were around me, holding me tight. I fought as hard as I could against the arms but they wouldn't let go. I kept fighting and fighting until I was out of energy. Then, I just dropped into a protective position, curling up into myself and covering my head. The beating would be next.

I waited. Nothing. No fists, no feet. Nothing. Not even the bad touching some of the foster dads and uncles and brothers did. I opened my eyes and moved my arms away from my head. Brendon was standing above me. He was looking around my room and back down at me. He didn't look mad. He actually looked a little sad. And maybe concerned?

"What happened?" He asked, looking around the room.

I burst into tears. I couldn't explain how I didn't want him to leave. How I didn't want to go back to the Children's Home. How much I'd missed having him around. How hurt I was that he'd promised to be home and wasn't. How he'd promised to be at my science fair, but wasn't. But how I was most scared that he and Sarah were going to split up and they were going to get rid of me.

But he wrapped me in his arms, picked me up and sat down on my bed where he held me on his lap, hugging me and just rubbing my back. I could feel his chest vibrating so I could tell he was probably talking. He knew I couldn't hear him, so I'm not sure what he was saying.

The anger and the sadness had exhausted me. I felt myself drifting off. My breathing evened out and I felt myself laid down on my bed. A blanket was placed over me and I felt a kiss on my forehead before I succumbed to the darkness and slept.

When I woke up, it was dark out. I looked at my clock. It was 8pm. And I was hungry. And I had to pee.

I got up, turned on the light, used the toilet, washed up and opened my bedroom door. It was then I realized my room was clean. I looked around my room and saw my clothes were off the floor, my shoes were back in my closet (I supposed) and my books were back on my shelf with my math books on my desk. Had I dreamed my... tantrum?

Frowning, I turned out the light and looked up the hallway to Brendon and Sarah's room. The door was open. It was early still so I guessed they weren't in bed. Which meant they were probably downstairs. I sighed. I tried to decide I wasn't hungry enough to go downstairs, but in reality, I was famished.  I gathered my bravery and went downstairs and into the kitchen, hoping they'd be watching TV or he'd be out on his studio and they wouldn't notice me.

No such luck. They were sitting at the dining room table, drinks in front of them. He had a beer. She had wine. And they saw me coming down the stairs.

Both of them stood up when they saw me. I was certain this was it.

"Callie!" Sarah signed. "Are you hungry, sweetheart? I saved you some dinner."

I frowned. I didn't want to be hungry. I wanted to disappear.  I nodded. The reality was, I was hungry.

Sarah came over to me, put her hand on my shoulder and guided me to the table. Brendon smiled sadly at me as Sarah led me to my seat at the table. I knew this was it. This was where they were going to tell me they were getting divorced and they were getting rid of me. I tried to hold in my tears because I knew if they came, they'd try to make me feel better. And I would never feel better about being dumped off again.

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