Dangling off the edge...

 I closed the door to the roof and padlocked it shut.

 ‘It’s not like anybody’s going to come up here after you.’

The roof of my four story building was old, with cheap patched covering over the holes; I carefully made my way to the ledge.

I leaned on the ledge; it was a nice day out today. The sun was shining and it was warm, I had on my favorite blue sweater. I took my phone out of my pocket and placed it on the ledge, and then I placed my hands on the ledge and lifted myself up. I swung my legs up and adjusted my baseball cap.

I saw my newest mom pull up in her fancy new car. She got out of the car and started walking towards the building, shoving her keys into her bright pink purse.

"What are you doing up there?" She shouted. She shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand.

 I spat a wad of spit down at her, “I’m enjoying the view.”

. "Sweetheart, can you please come down? I don’t feel comfortable with you up there.”

"No!" I took my hat and spun it backwards. She ran inside, coming back out a couple of minutes later, with my her husband.

"Get down from there now!" He yelled.

 I shook my head," Why should I?!" I yelled. I looked up at the sky.

This might be a good day to end it all.

"Young lady if you don't get down from her right now-"

I cut him off, "What are you going to do? Give me back? I'M USED TO IT! Do you know how many foster parents I went through before you people?!" I shouted at them. They just stood there in shock.

"Sweetheart, we will never give you back to them!" She yelled up at me.

Her husband got pissed. "Okay, I'm coming up there to get you!" Then he stormed into the building.

"Good luck." I mumbled.

I heard the roof door shake, then he started cursing and yelling at me to open the door. My mom was still yelling at me from the ground. I heard my dad run back downstairs, and then he started yelling again.

What’s the big deal? I’m just sitting on the ledge of a four story apartment building. No big deal.

No, I know exactly why they were freaking out; they think that I am going to jump. Which I am, no doubt about that.

They just don’t understand you.

But did you give them a chance?

How many voices are talking to me in my head? This is kind of scary now.

Is this the right thing to do? They care about you, they want you. They want to be there for you but because of your past with all of the other families you didn’t want to hear it, to give them the opportunity to be there.

So what? Foster kids are replaceable; after I die they can just go get a new one.

But they want you.

But I can’t live with this anymore. All of the pain that I’ve gone through, the pain and the loss.

But it was your entire fault. The only way to fix all of this is to end it.

I looked down and saw that her husband was on the phone, probably calling the police.