Oblivion (Harry Styles)

Chapter 1

Ever since I was a little girl, I had this longing. A longing to feel love, be loved, experience love. I'd become attached to people easily, too easily.

I was brought into this world by an accidental teen pregnancy. My birth mother kept me for 6 months, but gave me up for her own good and my own. From what I was told, she interviewed a lot of people. She wasn't a terrible mother, but her being 17 and me being a 6 month old baby, she wanted what was best for us. She needed education and a future, and I needed a proper home and family. I understood that, so did she. She finally decided on a family that struggled with having kids. I was with them until I was 3 years old. When I was two, my first adoptive mother, Heather, finally got pregnant. I remember, vaguely, how excited and happy she was. She found out she was having a girl and was so excited for me and her family.

I grew to love this family. I had a princess room, plenty of toys, food on my table. I couldn't have spent my early childhood in a better place. Heather went into labor a month early. A beautiful baby girl was born, but was tangled in her umbilical chord and died. Heather became severely depressed. Her husband's main concern was for the health of his wife. I was beginning to become neglected. On my 3rd birthday, I was sent away into foster care. Being three, I didn't quite understand where I was going.

It was an adjustment. I went from having my own pink, princess room, toys, and a family to sharing a room with a bunch of strangers, not having toys, and feeling lonely almost all the time. It took me awhile to realize this was my home, but by the age of 5 I was content. My foster mom and I got along well. I was the youngest in the home and also the only one not involved in illegal activity. Most nights it was just my foster mom and I eating dinner. She sent me to a public school, so I could get an education.

I made plenty of friends at school, but those friendships wouldn't last long. All the parents of my friends would assume I would turn out like my foster brothers and sisters. They wouldn't let their kids talk to me or in any way associate with me. I made a point of seeing my schools guidance counselor, to keep my sanity. When I walked into her office when I was only 6, claiming I needed someone to care about me, she started to cry. I would spend most of my time in her office. I'd go there during lunch and stay after school until dinner time.

That was my life until the age of 12 because then, my foster mother was reported for her unsafe environment.

FLASHBACK

"Can you tell me about your time in the home?" The man asked me. I picked at my nails before looking up.

"I didn't spend much time there."

"Where were you then?"

"I would leave for school at 7 and come home in time for dinner."

"What were you doing at school so long?"

"I speak with a counselor. I've been going to her for 6 years."

"Because of the bad state of your home?"

"No, just to maintain sanity," I scoff.

"Why would you need to do that?"

"This isn't my first home," I shrug.

"Well, it isn't your last either I'm afraid." I shoot up.

"What?!"

"You'll be sent into a care center until we find you a better home."

"N-no," I cry. "I love my foster mom. Please don't take me away from her, she's the only family I have," I sob.

"I'm sorry miss. Go say goodbye. We'll have John, from the child's center take you and your stuff."

I ran out of the room and into my foster mom's arms.

"Don't let them take me away!" I scream as a police officer pulled me back.

"I'm sorry sweet heart," she mumbled.

The man yanked me back more as I twisted, trying to escape his grip.

END OF FLASHBACK

That was how my time in foster homes ended. I cried for a day maybe, until I realized this was part of life.

I still had 6 years until I was allowed to live on my own, so I decided to go to a boarding school for the next 6 years of my life until I was finally old enough to live my lonely life alone.