We Break Promises, Memories Break Us

Refused

                                                    Amelia-

            Last night I went to sleep promising momma and Mr. Kinsley that I would think about having them adopt me. My gut and mind are both screaming, “NO” on the top of their voice, while my heart is just chilling there nudging me to say yes. They gave me these awesome gifts. Even a seventy-five dollar gift card to iTunes was included. When I opened the iPod box it was in there. I cannot just accept these gifts and then say that I didn’t want them to adopt me could I? I had some serious thinking to do, so I walked downtown to the Starbucks. It was pretty big for a coffee shop in New Jersey, and it was usually pretty busy. I love coming here because the people who walk in and out of those doors are so busy with their own problems that they don’t worry about the girl sitting at the table.           

            So here I am! When I walked in I saw some kid staring at me and then he got his friend to look. All I wanted to do was go some place to blend in, not to get pointed at in the middle of a crowded room. I started messing with my laptop so that I didn’t have to meet their eyes. iTunes was already preloaded, so I opened up the store and started to look for what I liked. I started looking at all the free stuff. When I was down downloading the good freebies I started looking for songs that I liked, starting with country. I bought Jason Aldean’s album and I even previewed Kenny Chesney’s song, “Boys of Fall” and fell in love with it. 

            While in the middle of my search for musical knowledge, I felt a breeze coming through the door. I looked up soon enough to see him talking to the two kids from earlier, and they all stormed out a few seconds later. I tried not to bother with what was going on, it was none of my business. About 25 dollars into my iTunes card, some college kids walks up to me and tells me that I could get music for free, and that it will still play on my iPod. He started saying something about Limewire and Frostwire. He could have been speaking gibberish for all it mattered. He finally told me to go to a website to download Frostwire, claiming that it was a little faster than Limewire. So after downloading, he had me put in a search term, and about seven hundred and eighty results popped up. I picked the songs I liked and watched them download into my iTunes. I thanked him, and the next thing I knew he was pulling up a seat next to me.

            He introduced himself as Michael. He was a freshman at New York University, and he was a public relations major, whatever that was supposed to mean. I automatically told him that I was Amelia, or Lia, and that I was only in tenth grade. Even with knowing this he still offered me a drink, which I declined. I am not stupid enough to fall for the “roofies in the hot chocolate” trick.

            A little while later, he finally got up and left. He left his number on a napkin, and told me to call him if I needed anything. I think the only thing I would tell him is get a life, and to find someone older than a tenth grader. I guess for some people they see this age gap as nothing, but to me, three and a half years is still too distant especially when I have never had a boyfriend to begin with.

            A few hours later, as my battery was dying, I decided to go home. It was time to tell the momma and Mr. Kinsley what I decided; I was hoping that I would not upset them too much.

            “I just feel that it is in my best interest that I don’t get adopted at this time,” I stated.

            “But don’t you think that you might want to be adopted soon, Come on Amelia, you are almost sixteen years old, you need someone to take care of you.”

            All I could think was, “And you think you two are the best fit to care for me and keep me safe,” But all I said was, “I have been taking care of myself for 14 years, I think I handled it well enough.”

            Momma excused herself to call my social worker, probably asking if there is some way to talk some sense into me. I am sorry, but I made up my mind, these are the last people I want to take care of me, I do not want Mitch to be my brother, legally adopted or not, I still refuse. I want to be in a family where I feel safe. This is definitely not where I feel like I have a safe haven. I finally tuned her out, plugging in my iPod and listening to Justin Bieber. I am currently listening more for the fact that I want to drown out the noise of everyone talking about me, and not to actually listen to his voice, but that is also slightly calming.

            An hour and 4 repeated Justin Bieber songs later, my social worker comes knocking at my door. Not the door of the house, but the door of my bedroom. She wanted to get my side, why I didn’t want this “nice family” to be my “new, whole family.” All I could explain was that I don’t feel like a family, I don’t feel accepted, I don’t feel like I belong here, I feel like there is another family I belong too, that there is someone else out there for me, waiting to love a girl who needs someone to care for her.

            My social worker didn’t even know what to say. I am in tears over this. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, but there was still more that had to be said.

            “Jessica, I am not safe here. Things happen here,” I whispered, “things I cannot talk about right now, but please, if you care about me, you will put me in a different home,” the tears started again, “Please don’t tell them that I said anything, please Jessica, please, promise me.”