~ Foster Homes ~

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Adam on the left, Ash on the right. (photos off Google)

Dear diary, 01/01/17

Im right this place is not nice. I've been punched twice and so far I've caused them 2 black eyes and a sprained wrist. I've started fighting back, because this place is just... Horrible. I need to put this away now I hear my Foster dad coming. So far they've destroyed my phone and ripped up one of my favourite pieces of art I had done. But you know that's life

Taylor~

I put my diary and pen away under my bed and sat on the bed waiting for my Foster dad and almost as if reading my mind. My door was flung open and I knew instantly he was drunk. He stalked over to me and pushed me on my back and he climb on top of me. "You pain in the fucking Ass. Why have you not done your bloody chores properly. We only Fostered you for the fucking money and we don't get paid enough to keep you here and you not doing our cleaning properly!"
I hear the familiar zipping noise and before he could do anything I built my strength up and pushed him backwards and climbed on him this time punching him a over and over again. My door was once again flung open and my Foster mum came in speaking with Sapphire on speaker, she just kept repeating "get here now and take the fucking boy"

Once my social worker turned up my Foster parents were stood in the living room with me and my bag. They both had black eyes, my Foster dad had a broken wrist and they both had nose bleeds and hand marks on their face. Oh well NHS should be able to sort them out.

"Take him now and we won't press charges!" My Foster dad growled. My social worker gave me a hard glare and led me out the door and to her car..

We stopped after 1 and half hours outside a line of 10 houses all of which stood in the worst looking neighbourhood. The gardens all overgrown and some of the houses we boarded up. "I know it looks bad. But this family is nice. They have 3 kids and I sure hope that you won't try the same trick as you did a few hours ago." She spoke for the first time since picking me up. She knocked on the door and a happy family came to the door. These people don't seem to bad. I hope I'm right.
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Dear diary, 14/09/17

I turned 16 yesterday and I received a punch in the face. I'm now in I think my tenth Foster home. Every other Foster home I was in I was raped and abused and in return they received broken bones, black eyes and nose bleeds. No- body has actually pressed charges... Yet...

I'm currently supposed to be packing because, hey guess what. I'm getting kicked out this Foster home as well. My social workers warned me if I carry on the way I am I'm gonna end up the same place as my parents. My last Foster home I got kicked out because I was caught making out with this guy in my bedroom. I've been kicked out most schools so now my social worker has banned me from going to any school and I have to get home schooled. Like properly home schooled.

I've been kicked out this one because I punched my Foster brother in the face. I done it in defence, kind of. He's 18 and well he came into my room and tried climbing on top of me so I punched him and he got knocked out. Though there's the times I can't defend myself. Those times I end up getting raped until I can't move. That happens quite a lot but I soon get them back by punching then when there not expecting it. As far as my social worker is concerned I just decide to punch these people for fun. I'm not going to tell my social worker that it's because I can't defend myself from getting raped. She'd see me as weak.

My family haven't seen me since the court hearing and where my parents were sentenced to 15 years in prison. I don't know why. They kind of just forgot about me. I'll write when I get to this new place I'm supposed to be going. Though over the time  on being in these Foster homes, I've stole some nice ish clothes including a leather jacket I wear often. I still only wear black and when I go out on the streets I still get stared at constantly not because of the bruising all over my body but because of my white hair. I'm going to pack for what feels like the hundredth time now.

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