Take My Picture

Prologue

Foster care is all I've ever known. I don't actually know what happened to my parents, if anything even happened. Maybe they just weren't ready for a child. Or maybe my mum had an affair. Or maybe my dad died when my mum was pregnant so she couldn't cope with the reminder.

I've thought of them all, every single situation possible. Its all I did when I was little, think of all the possible reasons why my parents didn't want me. What was worse though, was when I would make up these scenarios about how my life would be if they never left. For hours on end I would be off in my own world, one where I would have parents, and a family. But then I would come crashing back to reality, and boy did that make me mad. I was an angry child you see, so when I realised I didn't have that, realised I would never have that, I got really sad which in order to hide, I got mad. And I mean really mad. One time, I must have been almost 9, I got so mad that I smashed all the picture frames in my foster parents home. It was like they were tormenting me on purpose, showing me everything I would never have.

That's what got me sent to my group home. They didn't want to deal with me.

I guess you can say I put up some walls after that.

I finally let them down just this year. I was 15 at the time, the foster family I was with told me that they wanted to adopt me. I was honestly so excited, and I let it cloud my judgement. I wasn't trying so had to be good, because they wanted me, they weren't going to send me back. In my mind, that meant I didn't have to be a goodie two shoes anymore. I was allowed to fight with my foster sister like a normal sister, because we were going to be sisters.

That's when the incident happened. Everything began to spin out of control, and was right back to where I started. Being sent to a group home. Back to my group home.