I pick up my bookbag, dreading this day as always. I'm tired of having to deal with this bullshit, but hopefully this will be my last time. This isn't a new experience for me even though it seems different. Starting a new school is always the same or so it appears that way. I try and stay below the radar, but I don't always succeed.
It's hard to stay invisible when you've never been the greatest at it. I seem to pull unwanted attention towards me instead of pushing it away. I guess being the new girl has that effect, doesn't it? I hate being the new girl, but that's what happens when you've been in foster care since the day you were born. I didn't ask for this life, but I'm probably not the only one, am I?
In my seventeen years of life, I've been in at least twenty-one different "homes". I was taken in three and a half weeks after I was born by a woman who needed drug money. She lied to the state and they believed her for some unknown reason. I was sold within a week and then I moved eight different times between the ages one and four! I was supposedly used to help smuggle drugs until I got rescued at age four.
An older lady adopted me because she was never able to have children. I barely remember her, but she was super nice to me. I had to move again at the age of six because her husband died and she died shortly after because of the stress of losing him. She left me some money and other things to help me out in life. She truly cared and I wish I could remember more about her.
On my seventh birthday, I got a new family and I vividly recall of them. It consisted of eight other children and an alcoholic father. The father screamed and whined about us to the foster mother every night. He didn't want us there at all, but his wife did. He then proceeded to get us all taken away which worked.
I was in a new home within a month, this time a French family who were very kind to me. There was another girl there who was a year younger and we were very good friends. The family home schooled both of us and I learned French thanks to the father(it's my favorite language to speak). They had to move back to France within three months after my eleventh birthday due to a sick cousin. I wasn't able to go with them so I was put back into the system.
I was with yet another family within a week, it was two women who didn't speak any English. I had to learn Russian which I still know to this day. They were very happy to have me and I was super happy to be there. They got in a car wreck two days after my twelfth birthday. I got super upset, knowing I was going to have to go somewhere new.
A Chinese lady took me in to help her out with her restaurant. I had to learn yet another language, Chinese which I'm not the greatest at. This was a very unstable lady due to the fact that her daughter killed herself. I knew that I wasn't going to be there long so I didn't get comfortable at all. I was right because eight days before my thirteenth birthday, the lady killed herself.
Luckily, a really nice family chose me. The mother wanted three daughters and three sons so I was taken in along with a young boy. I could see that the boy was going to be trouble. I knew he was gonna ruin it for me. I was right when he killed the family and then tried to kill me after a year and a half of me being there.
Over the next two years, I was moved between four different homes. People didn't want to be near me because of my past. This really upset me and I went into a dark depression. I hated myself and I just wanted to die. That was until I met this really nice German couple.
They loved me almost immediately and never treated me different. This caused me to be super suspicious and untrustworthy of them. I knew I shouldn't of thought that way, but I couldn't help it. After about two months, they sold me to a child prostitution ring. I was moved at least every month for the next four months.
The ring got busted and I was put into a psych ward to help me. I stayed there for five months which actually helped a bit. One of the workers there decided that she wanted me as her daughter. She brought me to her home after I got out of the psych ward and that's where I am now. It's not that terrible here, but I haven't been to school, yet so I'll wait until after that.
I sigh as I slam the door closed, glad that Kira is at work. I only have a seven minute walk to school so I'm thankful for that. I don't have my license, but I'm hoping to get it soon. I hate walking and I especially hate how it's going to be winter soon. If I don't have my license by then, I'm going to be very frustrated.
I see the school appearing and I realize it's going to be a very long day. I see people chatting and laughing with each other, making me seem like an outsider. I walk past everyone quietly and quickly, avoiding all eye contact even though I know I'm getting stares. I really despise this part about a new school, but I can't help it at all. I just hope to God that they don't know about my past.
