The Unreachable

Foster Kid

When I woke, I was no longer in my hospital room.

I was back at the orphanage.

I panicked and sat up. My head whipped around, trying to figure out where I was. I saw the familiar walls and the things I had engraved into the walls.

That meant I was back in my old room.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the buzzing in my head. If I was in my room, maybe my arm wasn't missing...

I glanced down and sighed.

It were still gone.

I sat there, trying to ignore reality for what seemed like years, when I finally sighed. I got off of my uncomfortable mattress and turned around, taking in my room's appearance.

Stained white walls, engraved with band names and insults from my years living in it. An old, carpeted floor with several rips and what looked like blood stains. I sighed, and left the room, trying to figure out why I was here. I'd expected to either be sent to foster care, another orphanage, or a juvenile facility. I wasn't expecting to end up here. And after I just had a asthma attack?

I was supposed to still be at the hospital!

I gazed down at my missing arm in disgust. "You've caused me a lot of trouble." I murmured.

Then a thought hit me.

I only had one hand. I had absolutely no hope for the future, I woudn't even be able to drive car!

Why should I live?

I was just taking up space.

Maybe a young, bright child could take my place.

Why should a worthless person like me even be born?

My feet made little pattering sounds as I made my eay to the bathroom, one thought on my mind.

Suicide.

I rummaged through the cabinets until I found what I was searching for.

Pills and a razer.

I couldn't decide if I really wanted to do this. Why shouldn't I just cut myself? That usually made me feel better. I looked down and rolled the pills around in the one hand I had. They were so smooth and so tiny, yet so lethal. How could few of these end someone's life so quickly? I traced my lips with the pills, still unsure whether or not to take them. I set them on the counter, just staring at them. I finally decided to ignore them and picked up the razor. I tried to rip off the plastic edge, but I couldn't. Finally I just lifted my shirt up to my mouth and clamped my teeth onto it, holding it up. I dug the edge into the tender flesh of my stomach. I hissed in pain but I continued to do it. The physical pain made me forget the mental pain. It hurt so bad, but it felt so good. I continued this until I had five cuts on my stomach.

One for my little sister.

One for my brother.

One for my mother.

One for my father.

One for me.

I threw the razor away and left the room, letting the cuts bleed through my shirt. I made the long trip back to my room, surprised to see I had visitors.

The group of One Direction.

I dodged their eyes, knowing they saw the blood through my shirt. I walked towards the window, staring out just like I had done so often.

"What happened to you, Chris?" Harry whispered. "We thought we ha-"

"You thought you had fixed me?" I said miserably. I turned to face them, surprised to see the shock in their face. "You guys don't get it. I can't be 'fixed'. I'm too broken. I can't be reached. I'm too far gone." I shook my head. "Don't you get it? Reality happened to me. Not all of us have screaming fans that adore me. I have people who don't give to fucks about me. I don't have endless amounts of money. I have about ten bucks. I don't get to stuff myself with food every day. I barely get anything. I don't have a loving family. My family is either dead or in prison. I don't live in Heaven. My life is hell." I felt tears well up in my eyes. "I don't have all my limbs." I swallowed hard, trying to hold back my tears.

"Chris, you have us." Liam whispered.

I shook my head, looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah. I have you. A couple of boys who picked my out of the dirt, brushed me off, just to throw me back in the dust."

They opened their mouths to protest, but I waved them off. "Hey, it doesn't matter. I'm used to it. But why are you guys here?"

"Well," Liam began. "Since the headmistress got arrested the orphanage is shutting down. Most of you are being taken to foster homes, although some got adopted, and others to boarding schools."

I chuckled dryly. "None of them got sent to juvie?"

Liam looked uncomfortable. "Some did."

"That's what I thought." My grin faded as I remembered what some of them had done to me. Used me, abused me, treated me like trash, and a lot of other things. "So, where will I be going? No, don't tell me. Let me guess." I thought for a moment. "Juvie?"

They shook their heads.

"Another orphanage?" I tried again.

"Nope."

I scratched my head. "Boarding school?"

"Nah."

"Don't tell me I'm being adopted!"

"You're not."

"Um, foster kid?"

"Yup."

I nodded my head slowly. "Oh. Do you know who's fostering me?"

"Yup."

"Really?! Who?"

"Us."

That's when I blacked out.

What? Don't judge me.