"Wait! Stop! You can't do this to me!" My broken voice cut through the silent, rainy streets.
"You can't do this to me!" My desperate pleas were fruitless as the only father I've ever known was set in walking away. No amount of tears could make him stay.
"I'm sorry Jude, but this is for the best." As he spoke thunder boomed in the distance, lightning cracked through the gloomy skies.
"Best for who Paul? I have no one and you fucking know that!" With each word my tone escalated higher. At this point I wasn't sure if my face was wet from the rain or my constant stream of tears.
"I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore, I was never cut out to be a father. You have to understand." He said all this with his chin buried into his coat collar. Almost as if he was ashamed to even utter the words. No mater how much he wanted his words to be sincere and for me to believe them, I could hear the inconsistencies behind them. He's the only person I've had since my mom passed five years ago. He promised. He promised me. He promised her, my dying mother that I would never be alone. He swore he would always be there. Now when things got inconvenient I'm being left to the streets like an unwanted animal.
"I don't have to understand shit, fuck your useless apologies and go to hell!" The words spewed from my throat like a thick bitter venom.
I ripped my duffel bag from his calloused hands and ran.
"Jude wait!" I could hear Paul calling after me but even his outcries sounded insincere. I began to run faster without looking back. Paul kept yelling but I was already gone.
~Two years and four months later~
"Click, click, clack." The sound of Mrs. Philips' long nails echoed throughout the small office. Mrs. Philips, my caseworker is in her early forties and famous for her awful pant suit combinations. I'm not a fashion expert, but I am pretty sure paisley print and plaid do not match. Actually my wardrobe isn't any better. I usually stick to jeans and a t-shirt, accompanied by my mop of unruly brown hair. Ive never had enough money to have any sort of style.
"Mr Reyes, this is your forth home in the span of two years. If not for your sake but mines, lets make this one work."
"How about you make your outfits work?" I muttered under my breath as I shuffled in my seat. These chairs were tiny, almost as if they were manufactured for babies. I however, am 6'2 and need leg room.
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Philips stopped typing and looked up at me from behind her computer, lowering her glasses.
"Nothing ma'am, nothing at all," I said through clenched teeth and a forced smile. Its not my fault none of the other families never worked out. If only she knew what really went on behind those walls. Honestly, it really didn't matter if this home "worked" or not because this is my last year in the system. As soon as I turn 18 I don't know were and I don't know how, but I'm getting out of this shitty town. No looking back.
"Come on Mr. Reyes, the Smiths are waiting for you," she said as she walked out of the office into the parking lot.
"Im sure they are," I thought as I gathered my things. The only luggage I sported was an oversized black duffel bag and a tattered backpack. You tend to travel light when moving is eminent.
The ride to my new home was quiet and uneventful. Mrs. Philips was not a fan of music or anything that made noise, so she never turns on the radio. We pulled into a suburban neighborhood and stopped in front of a tan house. The house looked like your standard all American home. Very cookie cutter, on the outside at least. Throughout the years I've learned the true meaning of don't judge a book by its cover. For all I know this house could be heaven on the outside but hell on the inside. "Well this is it, I hope I don't see you in my office anytime soon." God this woman was awful, she couldn't even pretend to care about her job.
"Whatever," I said as I climbed out of her dusty minivan.
"Clean your fucking car." Im not sure if she heard me because by the time I turned around she already had the car in gear. As I made my way up the driveway, the front door swung open and outstepped a rather heavyset man.
"Welcome you must be Jude," the man smiled, " I'm Steve, come inside my wife is waiting for you."
