Madison's Journey

Part 2: Madison's POV

"W-what do y-you m-mean I-I-I can't-t go? I-I al-lready said y-yes."

"Slow down Madi, I can't understand you."

I huff and repeat myself trying my best not to stutter as much.

"I'm sorry Madison, but this is out of my hands, you know this. You know that because you're in the system and you've been to juvie you aren't allowed to leave the state by yourself. Your foster parents won't go with you. They have their own kids to think about."

"Th-th-that-t's bullsh-shit-t!"

"Language Madison, and you can't expect them to drop everything for you. Don't forget you aren't their real kid.

"You you th-think th-that I-I don't-t know th-that! I-I don't-t care. I-I was ask-ked t-to go up-p t-to th-the national-l team, isn't-t it like m-my civil dut-ty t-to go pl-ly f-f-for m-my count-try?" I try to find some way for me to go to this camp.

"If you were an adult then yes, but as you are a minor and a ward of the state you have no say in this, I'm sorry truly I am."

"Y-ya w-wat-tever," I say, grabbing my school bag and going to my room. A minute later I hear the front door close signaling that David, my social worker, has left. I let out a large sigh, 'Why does he always have to remind me I'm not wanted?'

I pull out the card Jill had left me in case I had any questions about the camp, and call the number on the card and wait for Jill to answer.

"This is Jill."

"H-hey, coach-ch it-t's m-me Ma-Madison."

"Hey, Madison. Do you have a question about camp?"

"N-no, I-I was j-j-just calling t-t-to let-t you kn-now th-that I-I won't-t be able t-to go. You p-p-probably kn-now th-that I-I'm a ward-d of the st-tate and have been t-to j-juvie."

"Yes, I am aware of both of these things. If you think that it is going to be a problem then I'll let you know that I wouldn't have called you up if it was going to be."

I let out another sigh, "It-t's n-not-t th-that-t. It-t's j-just-t th-that-t, I-I am-m not-t al-allowed t-to leave th-the st-tate, so I-I can't-t j-join you in T-Texas f-for camp-p."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully the next camp then."

"Y-ya h-hop-pefully."

'If I can't go to this camp because of my age, why does she think that I'll be able to go to the next one? I won't be able to go to a camp until I'm eighteen and who knows if I'll make it till then.' I hang up and flop back onto my bed.

'No one has ever fought for me, why did I think they would start now?' I pull my pillow into me and cry myself to sleep.

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The next morning I wake up to my alarm going off. 'What the... it's the weekend,' I think my mind a little hazy before I remember, 'I have a soccer match.' I groan rolling out of bed and grabbing my bag and shoving in my old worn-out shin guards and boots.

I quickly change into my kit and put my hair up before heading downstairs to make breakfast for the Smiths. I make some eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I know better than to take any for myself. They keep a close eye on the food that is eaten in the house, and as it is the boys are quick to blame me for any extra food that they eat. Not that they would get in trouble if they did admit to eating it.

As I leave the house I remember the granola bar that I had gotten at school yesterday. Pulling it out of my bag brought a smile to my face. I couldn't help but groan in content as I eat it.