Violated: What's a Happy Ending

Chapter one

It's been 10 years since I joined the foster care system.

Why I'm in foster care you may ask, well long story short, I was about 4 years old when my mother died, then my father became abusive. The school found out and now I'm in foster care, not much else to it.

I hate it though. Every foster home I've been to has been the same; abusive, controlling, and careless. I don't expect this one to be any different.

I look out the window scanning the snow-covered town. There are teenagers and children everywhere; they seem so happy. I wish I had friends like that, but who'd want to be friends with a useless stuttering spaz like me?

After being stuck in my head for a majority of the trip, I notice us pull up to a light brown house that seems to be two stories tall and I let out a sigh that's muffled by my sleeve.

"We are here," Bill says as he gets out of the car.

I roll my eyes. 

"Fantastic," I say sarcastically while opening the car door.

"Tweek, this one will be different," Bill says for the fifth time today, opening the trunk. Causing me to let out a sigh before closing the door and walking towards the back of the car.

"You said that the last eight places," I say, grabbing my suitcase from the trunk.

"Tweek, you know I would never purposefully put you in harm's way. You just need to give this one a try," he says, closing the trunk.

I roll my eyes. "D-Dude you and I have known each other long enough to know that I will never have a permanent home," I sigh.

He looks at me; his eyes full of sorrow, "You know that I'm working on getting custody of you, but it's gonna take some time. This is just temporary."

I roll my eyes again. "It's been three years Bill. I kn-know you care and all, but people like me don't get their happy endings," I say looking down.

"I promised you that I would take care of you Tweek. I'm going to get custody of you eventually." He elbows my arm slightly. "Besides, the people here throw awesome parties!" He says, trying happily.

I glare at him, remembering the last party I went to.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "Oh yeah... I forgot about last time."

I nod and start walking towards the house. I hear laughter and look over to see two boys next door; one on the ground holding his arm and the other laughing his ass off.

I couldn't see the one laughing that well, I just knew he was fat and wore red with a blue hat.

I had a better view of the boy on the ground who had raven hair and a blue jacket. I'm assuming his hat flew off when he fell because there was a blue chullo hat on the ground next to his head.

He quickly picked his hat up and put it back on his head. He stood up and shoved the fat boy. "Fuck you, Cartman," he said just loud enough for me to hear.

I pointed at them. "I never said that the kids are good," he says a bit loud, defensively putting his hands up. I laughed slightly and continued walking towards the door.

"Go ahead, Tweek. They aren't gonna bite," he said, giving me a reassuring smile.

I glared at him again and pulled up my sleeve to show him the scars from last time.

"Those people were crazy though! I didn't want you to go with them in the first place, but the boss said it was the best place. They were seriously mental!" He shouts in defense.

I burst out laughing. "You know maybe if you smiled more than you would actually make friends other than me," he suggests, gesturing towards the boys.

"Never! I could smile all I want, but that won't hide the fact that I'm a paranoid spaz, not to mention the stuttering," I say rolling my eyes.

"You need to stop thinking like that. You're the best person I've ever met Tweek! Your strong, brave, kind, and let's not forget about Mike," I roll my eyes.

"You say that because you have to. You literally get paid to make me feel better," I say.

He sighs in defeat. "Fine, now knock on the door."

I sigh and hesitantly knock on the door. We wait about a minute before the door swings open. A woman with hazel hair and a blue dress stood in the doorway with a huge smile on her face.

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