Sincerely, Harry || Homicidal Prequel

Entry 20

Dear diary,

Mrs. Emmerson woke me up an hour early today and handed me fancy clothes, then told me to shower. She was very on edge, and that never means anything good. It's never happened to me, but one time she had to dress Anderson up because his lawyers were coming to visit him. That's when I learned his family has too much power, so I don't talk to him much anymore.

Anyway, Mrs. Emmerson has just informed me that I'm meeting with a few foster families today. I knew this was going to happen, but this makes it more real. I heard her talking to one of the nurses today about my court ordered placement in a foster home. No one ever told me that was part of the deal, and it makes me pissed, but I can see why the courts kept it from me. It makes sense, but that doesn't mean I like it.

I'll write more later, once I have time. I'm scared.

-

I'm in between families right now. I'm not sure how much time I'm going to have, but I need to talk about this. There's ten foster families willing to take me in that are approved by the courts, and I've seen three so far. The interviews are so intense, and there are so many questions. Too many for me to be comfortable.

The family was not a good fit. They had three other foster child, and they have only been operating a foster home for a year. Mrs. Emmerson decided it wasn't going to work just before I did. I saw the way the couple's eyes lingered on me too long as they left and I'm still questioning if they're stable or not.

The second family was mean. They were two men, and they had been operating a foster home since they were in their thirties. One had a scruffy beard and a handle bar mustache, and the other had long hair and side burns. The way they spoke to me made me feel like I was nothing, and the one with long hair said: “When you're in our house, there won't be any crying. You toughen up and face everything like a man. There won't be a mum there to save you.” I'm so relieved Mrs. Emmerson said no to them.

The last family decided I wasn't the right fit for their dynamics. They weren't experienced dealing with someone with my past, and politely declined taking me in so I could find a family more equiped with helping me. They were so nice, and I wish they could have taken me in. Their last names were Baker, I think. They're living flesh of the picture I painted of my dream family.

What if I never find a good family? Alyssa warned me, but I didn't know it would feel this awful to be rejected.

The next family is ready to interview me. I'll write later.

-

Foster family number six are going to take me in. They wouldn't be my first choice, but I guess they're nice enough. The mother seems like she's not fully there, and the father gives off this vibe that he doesn't care all that much.

They brought a few of their older kids with them. The son and the daughter are my age. He's been there since he was five and she's been there since she was eleven. They both grew up in single parent households—single mothers, drug addicted—and were palced in the system when it was known that they were unfit parents.

The thing with Mrs. Emmerson is that she always has the best intentions at heart, and I've learned this causes her to be blind to certain situations. This is one of them. As nice as the family appears to be, there's something off about them.

When they were leaving, the guy said: “We're going to have so much fun.”

The girl brushed my hair behind my ear and said: “You're pretty. We like the pretty ones. We're going to have a great time.”

Then the mum said, “Come on Dalton. Leigh,” and that was the end of it. I was surprised when Mrs. Emmerson and the security didn't step in and tell them not to touch me, but none of that happened.

Tomorrow I have a meeitng with a social service worker that deals with my foster family. Mrs. Emmerson needs to be in the room for legal reasons, and it was suggested that my therapist be there as well. I have a busy day ahead of me, so I'm going to get some sleep. It's only nine PM, but I'm still tired.

Sincerely,

Harry.