Toast

Chapter Twenty Three // Angry Ashley

~~~ The 1st Of March 2008 ((Eight years ago)) ~~~

- Ashley's POV -

I sat alone like I usually did in the playroom of foster care, I decided to blow up hundreds of balloons to celebrate my seventh year of being stuck in the hell hole which was the foster home. I was a very angry and sarcastic child, I hated everybody in the foster home.

A little girl dressed in pink with her long blonde hair neatly plaited approached me and watched what I was doing, I stared at her angrily.

"Can I help?" She asked me with a smile on her face, I rolled my eyes and looked away from her.

"Fuck off" I told her, the little girl burst into tears and ran out of the playroom and I began to laugh. I continued to blow up the balloons until a supervisor who spends her time wandering around the building checking if everybody is okay stormed into the room with the little girl running behind her. I glanced at them for a second before looking down again.

"Are you ever going to be nice to the little ones Ashley?! We are all friends here!" The supervisor shouted, she crossed her arms and sighed loudly.

"I'm a bit busy here, come back later and we can chat" I muttered before blowing up a huge blue balloon, the supervisor gave up with me and stormed off. The playroom was always empty when I was sitting in it, I felt like all of the children were afraid of me. I was rude to everybody because I had so much anger within me, I blamed every person I came in contact with for my shitty life.

After blowing up twenty balloons I gave up and went for a walk, as soon as I left the playroom all of the younger children ran in and stole the balloons. I wandered around the busy foster care building before coming to the office, the door into the main entrance was always locked. There was a window looking into the office from the corridors we were allowed to walk around, I always watched the younger children getting chose to be fostered and then leaving with their new families. I despised everybody who was chosen.

I was told that my mum left me in foster care when I was two years old, apparently she couldn't cope with being a single parent. Maybe I was an awful child and I caused her too much stress but I always think about her and if she will ever come back for me. I was eight years old at this point, the oldest child in the foster home.

Believe it or not I had been chosen to be fostered once but I got so excited that I called all the other children worthless and that they would never find a new family, so then the person dropped out. I guess my anger issues were getting out of hand as I got older, I just knew I had such a hatred for everybody I came across.

I had no friends in the foster home because of the way I acted but that was the best way to be. I made a promise to myself, saying that I would never let anybody get too close to me because they would always leave in the end. Just like my mum did.

A few weeks later I was sitting in the empty playroom once again but instead of balloons I was cutting up random pieces of paper with some scissors. A boy I had never seen before entered the playroom and sat down in front of me, I stared at him weirdly.

"Go away" I said as I continued to stare at him, instead of running away and crying like any other child used to do.. He just laughed. I was tempted to push him off the chair and attack him with the scissors I was holding but I restrained myself.

"You are in my class at school, you're angry Ashley" He said while grinning, I rolled my eyes while chopping up the paper. I had no friends in school either and I didn't pay attention to anybody around me which is why I had no idea who he was.

"I haven't seen you in here before" I told him, he nodded.

"I just arrived. My dad had to leave. When did you get here?" He asked, still with a smile on his face. What is this child's deal?