"It's Katie" I said sadly for what felt like the millionth time that day. With every new person that came into this room I would have to explain yet again. My name is Katherine, but that is also, correction; was also, was my mother's name and hearing it said by every new person who walked in this room to figure out what the hell to do with me, made me feel like my heart was being torn in two. So now I've decided it would be Katie, but all the papers, forms and documents that everyone is looking at before they come in, say Katherine.
The guy who I most recently corrected stood opposite of me. He was dressed in a navy suit with black and grey hair, his posture was bad, his back arching forward like something was wrong with it, looking at him, my back began to ache, as I have been probably sitting in this chair for over 5 hours now, and the small task of sitting up straight was something that felt impossible.
My world is over, my parents dead, everything I ever knew and loved gone, and mixed between the sadness and grief that had already begun to overcome me was a feeling of anger I had never experienced before. How could they leave me like this, no will, no backup, no information, no what happens to our kid when we die plan, no where to go and no guardian.
"It looks like we found a place for you for at least the next few days" The man announced
"Who are you?" I asked, sounding a little angrier then I meant
"Your social worker" he announced, "you've been here for too long already, you need to go home and pack a bag, and then we'll head over to your foster home for the next few nights as we get more information"
The word stung, foster, I'm a foster kid now, an orphan, 12 hours ago I wasn't, I had a family and a home and a life, and now everything was gone.
He lead me out of the room I had been sitting in for so long and down the hall. Outside my lawyer and the police officer who had knocked on my door earlier this morning were still chatting in hushed voices as I walked by.
My dad, apparently had a heart attack, which was hard to believe based on his lifestyle and love for running, but then again it can happen to anyone I guess, and I already believed that our family had cursed genes when it came to health especially me being born with the life threatening genetic illness that I had. But honestly, the worst part, was thinking about my beautiful and perfect mother who sat in the passenger seat getting torn to pieces when the front of the car went into the tree. At the thought, I felt nauseas and numb, and like if just could close my eyes right now and never had to open them again I wouldn't mind.
The social worker, Jay, lead me outside to his car, he opened the passenger door for me.
"I think I'll get in the back" I said still feeling sick as he scribbled something on the clipboard he was still holding. Probably noting this as some kind of trauma response, which it probably was.
"This will just be a temporary placement" Jay stated, glancing at me through the rear view mirror, "This foster parent is wonderful and I'm sure you'll be comfortable" I wasn't sure I'd ever feel comfort again.
We pulled up to the driveway of my childhood home, the place I had lived my entire life, a small cottage house, on the beach, undoubtedly one of my favorite places in the world.
Two months before I was born my parents found out that me, the baby they had worked so hard to conceive would be born with Cystic Fibrosis, a genetic illness that caused the mucus in my body to be thick and sticky like honey. Because of this, it trapped bacteria in my lungs, which then results in persistent lung infections, chronic coughing and a plethora of other health symptoms including diabetes, digestive problems and what would eventually be an early death. After getting the news, my parents packed up their belongings, drove across the country and moved into a house on the water, doctors told them kids with Cystic Fibrosis who breathed in ocean air had better health than those who didn't. The salt in the air, like the saline I nebulized every morning, would help thin and break up the mucus in my lungs which would keep infections away, and make breathing a lot easier.
Jay parks the car and I think about this as I walk up to the front door, I know how much my parents loved me. To this day I still I believe it's one of the best decisions my parents could have made for me, along with their determination I would be a runner. Before they came here they had lived in Montana and I've always known they gave up a lot when they moved. I don't remember it but we flew out there once when I was little, I think they realized how much they missed it, because we never went back.
I walked into the house alone, Jay waiting in the car for me, this was just a regular day at work for him, and he'd probably done this a hundred times. I wonder how many other kids he'd had to deal with who's parents died and left absolutely no hint of what to do with their kid. I didn't know what was going to happen to me, but I had a good feeling I would never stay here again, or at least not for awhile. I didn't even know if the house was mine, or if it is maybe not until I'm 18. I was in that room in the police station for hours, I thought angrily, and I still had almost no information.
I went in my room trying to ignore the fact that the house looked exactly how my parents left it the day before, their belongings on the counters, never to be used again. I quickly packed up some regular stuff in a duffle before moving onto all my medical supplies, the vest that vibrated and shook the mucus out of my lungs, about 10 bottles of pills, my inhaler and nebulizer, and two medications from the fridge.
Hoping I grabbed enough stuff I closed my eyes on the way out, I knew if I looked at everything again I'd start to cry for the thousandth time that day. I opened my eyes through the front door to Jay leaning against his car.
"Sorry kid only one bag" he said as I dragged both duffles next to me.
"Well I can't fit everything into one" I snapped back feeling like I was really at the end of my rope and still holding back tears. So far I felt like I liked Jay, or at least he was neutral thus far, and didn't ask me a thousand questions about my parents like everyone else had earlier today, but now I was getting annoyed.
"I'm sure there's some stuff you don't need for a couple nights"
"I packed my clothes and stuff for school and all my medical stuff and that's it"
"Your medical stuff?" he said and started rifling through the clipboard he scribbled in earlier.
"Yeah, can we just get going" I asked feeling increasingly tired now.
" I didn't see anything in here about a medical conditional" he said looking up at me frustrated
"Well I don't know what to tell you, I have a lung disease called Cystic Fibrosis and I would really love to go to sleep" I said in one breath, I wasn't one to stand up or get upset with people I didn't know, I usually didn't have to, but I had a feeling that I'd probably be needing to do more of it now.
Jay looked flustered
"Alright he said, we'll have to deal with it tomorrow, I trust you know what you need to do for yourself" he said putting my bags in the car and I climbed in.
When we got to my foster house for the next couple days a new lump developed in my throat. A tall older women with dark bushy hair came to the door and welcomed me in.
"Hi Katie she said, "I'm Ashley, why don't I show you the room and Jay and I will chat for a little bit and then I'll give you a tour of the rest of the house"
She took one of my bags and lead my into a room with a big queen bed, a TV and an interesting combination of kids character decorations, it kind of reminded me of the Children's Hospital hallway walls I often walked through.
She showed me where everything I would need was and told me to get settled before leaving me alone to talk with Jay. I laid down on the bed, not having the energy to put anything away and tried to listen in on their conversation. The bed was extremely comfortable, and I heard whispers, of "car crash, no family and disease" as my exhaustion got the better of me and I fell asleep.
YOU ARE READING
The Heart of Katie Grey
Teen Fiction17 year old Katie Grey's life has never been fair, born with Cystic Fibrosis Katie has already had to deal with more than most kids her age, which is why the unexpected death of her parents feels like she must just have the worst luck in the world...
