Saving Her

(three) problematic

I slowly slipped into the foster house, making sure I didn't alert anyone. The stairs creaked under my weight as I made my way up the stairs to my room.

I was left at the doors of this foster home when I was seven years old. No one wanted to adopt the weird kid that stays in their room all day.

I was adopted once, the parents left me on the foster home stairs a week later with a note saying I wasn't the kind of kid they expected to adopt.

After that I've never gotten an interview or anything really. Mrs.Lille hates me, she's the owner of the foster home. Her husband, Joe, keeps telling her I'm a troubled child and to be easy on me.

He treats me like an actual person. He's the only one. He convinced her to give me my own room since I'm going to get kicked out of the foster system soon anyways.

I got the smallest room in the house. As big as a king sized bed with a small separate bathroom that everyone finds way too creepy to even step in.

I sighed as I dropped onto my bed. I stared at my roof as tears started to run down my face. My clothes were drenched but I couldn't really care less.

If it wasn't for that guy, I would've been in peace right now. I would've been engulfed in an never ending peaceful sleep. Not having any horrid memories, not feeling so alone.

I'll try again tomorrow.

I thought to myself as I closed my eyes with hopes of not waking up to another day of the much dreaded school.