Chyna

Caught

We stayed down in North Carolina for a hot minute, tryna lay low and keep our heads down. But somehow, them folks found out where we was at. Cornell, Stacy, Kareem, Kahmi, Nicole, and Jermahne, they was older so they got to stay behind. But me, Deshawn, Laron, and Aisha, we had to bounce. They drove us back up to New York and split us up, sending us to different foster homes. My momma and daddy, they got locked up, facing a good 10 to 15 years in the pen.

Man, I developed a deep-seated hatred for my daddy, and ain't nobody could tell me not to hate him. That anger burned inside me, fueling my every thought and action.

Let me tell you, Brooklyn's foster care system ain't no joke. I bounced around five different homes, each one worse than the last. But that last foster home, man, that was the absolute worst. The foster momma, she was always off somewhere, drowning her sorrows in that bottle. And the foster pops, he was just plain strange, always acting a little too friendly, if you catch my drift.

In that messed-up place, I had two foster sisters, Jamirah and Zoe. Jamirah, poor thing, her momma passed away from an overdose, and she didn't even know who her daddy was. Her grandma was tryna step up and take her in, but it was a slow process. And Zoe, her own momma sold her out for drugs, can you believe that? Her daddy, he was in the army, trying to work things out and get her back.

Meanwhile, I was stuck in limbo, wondering when somebody would come and snatch me up outta that mess.

Carnell promised to come back for me and as I looked out the window on day 15 of being at the foster home that seemed to be just a broken promise. Zoe already moved in with her day by that day and Jamirah was going home today.
Jamirah walked up to me with her bag her in arms and smiled at me.
"Don't worry. You will be adopted our soon. You can have my alarm clock and cd player. Here's my number call me Chyna."
I hugged Jamirah snd watched as she walked out of the home with her case worker beside her. Rain began to fall and drop down on the windows. I walked over to my bed and sat on the edge of it. My foster mother was gone again and my foster dad was in the living room watching tv.

"Chyna! Come here" he called. I got up and slowly walked down the steps... He never called me unless it was for meals and when I walked into the living room the lights were dimmed and he was watching tv.
"Yes?" I answered with my hands folded in front of me.
I could see his pants open exposing his dick. I stepped back and tried running to my room but he grabbed me. I struggled in his arms as he took Vaseline out and rubbed it on himself before forcing himself inside of me. I was 9 years old and the pain was unbearable. I passed out and when I woke up blood was dripping down my thighs and I was sitting in the tub with hot water. My foster mother sat beside me she was shaking and crying . Her sister came in with towels and lit a cigarette.
"We can't call the agency they will lock me up because I wasn't here." She cried to her sister.
"Jeannie you know you have kids in your care what was you thinking leaving her here with Rob?" Her sister yelled.

I looked at my arms and saw bruises and cuts. My body hurt and my vagina throbbed I could barely move.
"Chyna... I kicked him out. He's gone now. I'm so sorry please don't say anything to Ms Masterson!" My foster mother cried. I shook my head and sat in the water watching it turn from clear to red.
"Jeannie... you need to go get some help... I'll watch Chyna... I will tell Ms Masterson you are on vacation..: no more drinking or I am telling the agency what happened." She said pointing a finger at my foster mother. My foster mother nodded then headed out of the room.  After getting a bath Ms.Lori carried me to my room and got me dressed. Tears began to fall from my eyes and I wanted to run away.
"Don't cry hunny imma make sure that never happens again. What do you want to be when you grow up?"
I looked around the room and grabbed a stuffed animal off of Jamirah's old bed.
"I want to be a star... I wanna be in movies." I smiled slightly.

"You can do anything you want to do, baby. As long as Ms. Lori is in your life, I will make sure you reach your dreams," she whispered, her voice filled with love and determination. She gently kissed me on the forehead, tucking me into bed with a sense of warmth and security.

As I lay there, still feeling the pain of being separated from my family, I gazed out the window, searching for solace. Thoughts of my parents, my brothers, and my sisters consumed my mind. I longed to know if they were thinking about me, if they missed me as much as I missed them. If only I knew where they were, I would run to them without hesitation.

That night, sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, haunted by the fear of my foster dad returning. The sound of Ms. Jeannie and Ms. Lori arguing echoed through the house, their voices filled with tension and frustration. Suddenly, the engine of a car roared to life, and I knew Ms. Jeannie was off again, leaving me behind once more.

In that poignant moment, a profound longing echoed within me, an intense yearning for the solace of someone who genuinely cared about my well-being. I craved the warmth of a presence that would envelop me in a comforting embrace, offering solace and understanding. My heart ached for that nurturing figure who would delicately wipe away the tears that streamed down my face, leaving behind a trail of vulnerability.

Amid the tumultuous storms of life, I sought refuge in the embrace of someone capable of providing the love and support I so desperately yearned for. It wasn't merely a desire for fleeting companionship, but a profound need for a connection that transcended superficialities – a bond forged in the crucible of shared emotions and genuine care.

The ache within me resonated with the yearning for a sanctuary where my vulnerabilities could find understanding, and where the weight of my burdens could be shared. It was a plea for the kind of love that heals, aches, and mends, creating a haven of solace in a world fraught with challenges.