My eyes flew open. My lungs desperately sucked in air, flailing helplessly. I brought a shaking hand to my face only to find it tear streaked.
I hate nightmares. I hate that the fear in there eyes was as plain as they were on that day. I pushed the drowning thoughts away.
I walked out quietly, trying not to wake the other children. I walked down the creaking hallway. When I got to the steps I stopped. I tested the tops step precociously, with one foot. I was testing to see, if I thought the old staircase would hold out until I made it to the bottom. I walked into the kitchen, once I made it safely downstairs. In the kitchen, Helin was perched on the edge of her chair. "Good morning."
"It is mornin,g but save the good for when I turn 18 and move out."
"You might," she said, disregarding the 18 part of my sentence, "a man and his wife, are coming to meet with you."
"Honestly, Helin, why do you try to adopt me out."
"I think you could be a better person if you tried."
"No, you just think I would be less deranged. You think that if I find a loving family, that I won't be crazy anymore. You are wrong." I stood, turned, and walked away.
I feel bad for Helin. She is a good person, and its not her fault that she is the only foster home in the mid-west strong enough to take me on. On the other hand, she though I was mental, just as every other foster home did.
I looked out the tiny window, of my shared room. I saw bright green grass growning everywhere. It poured out from every crack and crevase. It covered our 'sand' box, that through years of neglect, had turned into more of a dirt box.
I will move somewhere that no one knows me, and I will start over. If I can do this, life will be better for me....Little did I know that a place that is 'better' didn't actually exist for me.
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Chapter One: The Matchstick
To my credit, I did find the best clothing I could find. I searched for the best shirt and pair of jeans that I could find. For Helin's sake, I even wore a necklace.
She led me to the room five minutes early. I walked into the room, and sat in one of the plastic chairs, while she left the room. I pushed my chair back, until it rested on two legs. The room's floor was empty except for a desk and a few old, plastic chairs. The walls, on the other hand, were covered. They had pictures of men, women, and children of all ages. They all had one thing in common: They were all fostered by Helin. Most of them grew up and sent back pictures of their successful lives. I would never be one of them.
A man and a woman walked into the room, and my chair came crashing down onto all four legs with a horrible protesting noise from the floorboards. They regarded me, like lunch meat. It sent a chill up my spine. I broke the ice with a weak "Hello"
The man was tall and broad shouldered. It looked like he may have been handsome in his youth, but age had stomped on him like a doormat. His hair was cut in a buzz cut.
The woman was the opposite. She was short. She had a tan that was so fake it could only be described as: fake as barbie's boobs. Her short brown hair was pulled back in a pony-tail, and her glasses were pushed up her nose. "Hello," she said, with an outstretched hand. "I'm Casey and this is Hennry."
"I'm Ash." I took her hand.
"Is that short for Anything?" She has a strong hand shake.
"No, it is not short for Anything." My hand was throbbing when she finally let go.
