Graceful Disaster (Discontinued)

Chapter:1 (Edited)

Chapter 1

"Backpack… check."

"Snacks… check."

"Enough money… check."

"Tickets… check.”

You all must be thinking I am going to watch some movies or something, what with the list. So, sorry to bust your bubbles. I am just running away from my ninth foster family, a young couple. The man of the house is very abusive.

"Grace, you have to do this fast. He may wake up at any moment!” said Lydia, standing at the doorstep with dried blood on her forehead and messy hair.

"Yeah, Lydia. Almost done."

Lydia is a sweet lady in her mid-thirties. Her husband Mason, who is almost nine years older than her, is an abusive dog. He beat her mercilessly, even before I was adopted. As if beating her was not enough, he also adopted me to do the same.

The son of a bitch!

It has been around two months since they adopted me. It was fine at first, with a little slap or smack here and there. It was nothing new to me; at the age of seven I understood that nobody but blood relations matter, which I don't have.

But those little smacks turned into hard punches, then kicks, and then whipping. But today he crossed the line. He broke a wine glass and tried to cut me with it!

When Lydia protested, he pushed her away and kicked her several times. She was already weak. She was hit on the forehead, and it started to bleed.

Then he turned to me. I quickly ran up the stairs to hide in my room, but I wasn't fast enough, and he got hold of my long hair. It would be the death of me, I am telling you... my long hair, I mean.

Then he pushed me against the wall and tried to kiss me, touching me in inappropriate places. He was trying to molest me. I was giving him a real hard time, though. I took self-defense classes in every school I was admitted to. I tried to kick him where the sun doesn't shine, but before I got the chance, Lydia smashed him on the head with a vase. He was knocked cold right there.

So here I am now, at the doorstep of my ninth foster family, ready to leave forever. I am going to miss Lydia. She is a very sweet lady.

"Go away, Grace, dear. Don't wait any longer."

"Take care, Lydia. I am sorry."

"It's okay, dear. Don't worry about me. Just be safe. Ah, wait here for a moment!"

She ran to her bedroom. After a moment, she was back with a file that had my adoption documents, some more money, and a cheap smartphone.

"Destroy the papers on your way, dear. Now please go, before he wakes up. Don't worry about me, I will handle everything. Just give me a call after you reach your first orphanage. Now go."

I didn't know what to say. I stared at her for a good two minutes, then hugged her tight.

"I will miss you," I whispered.

Then I turned around, never turning back.

---

It was nothing new for me. I am a little girl who was forced to grow up before I hit fourteen by the cruel world. I don't know who my parents are.

I was brought up by my Nay Nay until I was five. Then one day I woke up at the side of the road without Nay Nay beside me, crying. I had a little backpack with me. Inside it was a photo of my Nay Nay, and a small letter that said, "Never give up, little one." There was a small name tag where my name was written in unstable handwriting, like a child's handwriting.