Fan to Family.

The Foster Jerks.

  "I hope I'm not my o-only friend," I sing, walking down the sidewalk from the bus stop. Mark, my neighbor, walks behind me with his friends.

"Hey! Stop hoping, you're your only friend!" Luke, Mark's twin brother, calls out with a snicker.

I walk faster. Their laughter bounces off the few houses on our street and punches my ear drums. My house grows larger as I walk. I walk down the front walk and to the door. My hand latches to the handle and pulls it open.

"I'm back to hell from prison," I call out not wanting the foster jerks to hear. Home is hell, school is prison, it's that simple.

"Honey, your home!" Lana gushes, acting nice.

"Lana were a drug free home," I joke at her nice-ness.

She smiles more, "Hun the only one on drugs here are those stupid singers you're so obsessed with." Lana retorts. She turns on her heal towards the kitchen.

"The child's home," Lana tells her husband ,my foster dad, Rich.

He walks out of the kitchen. I turn and start up down the hallway. "Eli where are you going?" He asks in a kind tone. What have the Forster jerks been on????

"To hunt elephants in Jamaica. Where do you think I'm going," I reply sarcastically. He doesn't smile.

"You're not going anywhere you little twat," He spits in my face, the sweetness drained from his body.

"I'm kinda going to my room, Rich," I sass. His face pinches showing anger.

"You aren't going anywhere you little whore. Your mother needs you."

"She isn't my mother, she's just my Foster Jerk like you. I'm going to my room," I turn on my heel and take a step toward my room. His hand flies onto my shoulder and grips it.

"I own you. I own your body. Don't think you can get out of any of this," His whispers in my ear sending chills down my spin.

I tare out of his grip and storm to my room. I drop my bag on the nearly empty floor. Disgust fills me. I feel nauseous. I grab my black shirt that has the words Twenty One Pilots under a picture of Josh and Tyler and black sweats with pockets.

I look around the empty room and see the fraying tan towel laying hanging from my chair. I grab it, my hair brush and some socks. I then find my phone and speakers. I walk over to my door. I take a deep breath.

My skin touches the cold, hard, metal. My wrist turns with the metal clutched in my hand.

I slowly open the door. When its open I turn left and run down to the bathroom door. I fling it open. I walk through the threshold. I lock the door behind me. I look at my own ugly face in the mirror. Everything about me looks horrible. I look down into the sink.

I set up my phone and speakers. I find my 21 Pilots music. I hit shuffle and Car Radio plays.

I turn on the water in the shower. As it runs I prepare myself to hop in.

I step into the warm shower, still feeling sick to my stomach. I wash my hair and all that. Then I put the unscented soap on the ledge scrub my self. I scrub until my skin is red, not able to wash away the fear. In the shower no one can tell you have been crying.

I stand listening to Tyler's melodic voice sing Truce. "Now the night is coming to an end." he sings.

These two mean the world to me. I know you think its cliche for me to say that but its true. I've always feel safe when I hear their voices. I feel like they can protect me. They calm me down. They make me happy.

You're thinking 'this is all so stupid, everyone says that' but it's not the same for them.

The song ends. I turn of the shower and get out, wrapping the thing towel around me securely. I quickly dry myself off and put my clothes on. I braid my dirty blonde hair to the side.

"We're broken people, yeah," I sing quietly. I turn the song off. I gather my things, unlock the door and sprint to my room. I close the door behind me. I can hear shouting in the other room.

Someone pounds on my door. When I don't answer Rich flings the door open. He walks to my bed. He pins me down. He seems pretty sober.

He lifts his hand. It flies down like a pile of bricks. My cheek stings and my eye hurts. His knuckles collide with my other cheek. He starts beating me.

                                                                          ~~~~~

I lay in my bed sore. I curl into a ball and cry. I move my hand around looking for my phone. My hand finds it. I pull it close. I play Car Radio. I instantly start to calm down.

I whisper the lyrics. "Now I just sit in silence," I shake, sobbing without sound. My blanket is wrapped around me tightly. I curl around my phone. I look up at the one poster I have, which hangs above my head, that shows Tyler and Josh. They are both smiling, the kind of smile you have when you're laughing at something. My eyes scan Tyler, I study his tattoos, his smile, his eyes, everything.

He's perfect. I feel like his picture protects me. Why you ask, I don't know the answer to that. You'll have to take a guess on that one.

My lip trembles. "Come save me Ty," I whisper. Moments later I fall asleep.