Don't Get too Close: A Billie and Brandon Story

1

DISCLAIMER: this story includes triggering topics such as sexual and physical abuse. please don't continue to read this story if you are affected by any of the topics I mentioned.

Yeooo. I'm Billie...and I hate my fucking life. Let me tell you why.

So...it started when I was six years old. Well a little before that. My quote on quote father left me and my mother when I was born because I guess having a kid was too much for him. But my nightmare of a life didn't start until I turned six when my mother died from driving while drunk.

Of course, being six I never really knew my mom, but I remember her being a drunk asshole. I don't blame her but I know I didn't deserve to be in her "care".

But anyways, on to why I hate my life. After she died, I was moved into foster care. In my first home, I was just uncomfortable with the new setting but overall they were decent people. Being six and dealing with the loss of my mother, I was always crying and throwing tantrums. That was a big mistake since they decided to get rid of me and I got moved to a terrible home with terrible people in a terrible neighborhood when I was 8 years old. The family was very low income and I only got one meal a day. Not only that but I was beaten almost everyday. I don't want to go into details but all I'm gonna say is that I went to school limping every single day.

That lasted until I turned ten, where I moved again. They were an okay family but I ended up moving again...and then again and then again. When I turned 15, things changed for the worst. I was moved to yet another low income family. Except this time, Daddy was there. All of my homes were different. Some people were nice, some were mean, some beat me until I couldn't stand, some even touched me where you shouldn't touch a child. Daddy was different. He took my innocence away not long after I moved there.

Basically, this foster home consisted of an older woman, an older man and three teenage boys. The older man always gave me weird looks and insisted that I called him Daddy. When the boys tried to hit on me, they'd get in trouble with him.

One night, as I was falling asleep, I heard him come in. I pretended to be asleep but I felt him approach me and rub my shoulder. He then shook me awake and proceeded to touch me in ways I didn't like. I was already used to being violated by grown men, but Daddy decided to go the extra mile. I tried fighting but it was no use, so it continued to happen frequently. He would wake me up at night or even keep me from school.

That was my lowest point. I began abusing alcohol and drugs to relieve the pain. It got so bad that I ended up overdosing on Xanax. I ended up going to rehab and all that dumb shit to get better. Even though I hated it, I did stop doing drugs but I do smoke weed from time to time.

After all that, the stupid ass system finally decided to move me into another home. And that brings us to today. I'm currently arriving to this nice ass house in the suburbs. When I walk in, this tall ass white boy greets me with a handshake.

"Hey, my name is Finneas. Nice to meet you." he smiles.

"Billie." I reply without much expression. I don't mean to sound rude but I refuse to let my guard down.

Maggie, the lady who picked me up from the office, aka my new foster mom, came by.

"Oh, so I don't have to introduce you guys. But yes, this is my son." She turned to Finneas. "Can you show her to her room please?"

"Well, follow me." He said. As we were walking around, I noticed just how big this house really was. I was sure to get lost.

When I got to my room, I just stood there in shock. I had my own bathroom, the room itself was huge and the bed was gigantic. Of course, I knew not to get my hopes up as I could literally move next week. I told Finneas thank you, dismissing him, and belly flopped on my bed. Better enjoy it while it last, I thought to myself. I grabbed a pillow, smushed my face in and sobbed.

You might be wondering why I'm crying like a little bitch. Well every now and then, I let out my emotions at random times. I'm 15 and I'm already over life. I started singing and writing songs when I got moved for the first time. It always helped me cope when I had just finished getting beat or getting raped or just coming from a bad day at school.

I took out my journal that my mom gave me before she died and started reading some of my old songs. I laughed at how ridiculous they were as I heard someone knock at the door.

"Come in."

An older man came in the room and I immediately got tense. I didn't know another man lived in the house.

"Hi, I'm Patrick, Maggie's husband." He said in a friendly tone.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Billie." I said softly.

"So, Billie, are you ready for school tomorrow? "

Fuck. Small talk.

"I guess so. I'm probably gonna move soon anyways."

He looked at me with an apologetic look. He must've been able to see the hurt in my eyes.

"Well Billie, I hope that's not the case. But Maggie is finished preparing the food and we would love if you joined us."

"Of course."

I wake up early to get ready for school. I took a shower and ate cereal and all that and got on the bus before Maggie or Patrick could ask to bring me to school. When I got on the bus there was just a few kids but not many so I found a seat for myself. As I walked on the bus, I felt nothing but eyes on me. I'm not sure why though. I was wearing baggy denim shorts and an oversized Metalica shirt. My hair has been through some shit with hair dye and all that, but it was just black now. I guess everyone just stared because I was the new girl.

When I got to my first class, the teacher did'nt make me introduce myself or anything...thank God. But she made me sit next to this cute ass kid.

"Wassup? I'm Josh." He said with a smirk on his face.

"Uh hey. I'm Billie." I gave him a weird look trying to figure out why he was staring at me like a piece of meat.

"Where are you from?" He asked.

"Hmmm...I don't remember." I said trying to freak him out.

He gave me a confused look. "How don't you remember where you're from?"

"That's a good question." I said. I internally laughed at how confused he was. Making people uncomfortable was just funny to me.

At lunch, I sat with that kid that introduced herself to me in 3rd period. I think her name was Zoe or something.

"Oh, hi Billie!" She said a little too excitedly. "These are my friends, Drew, Brandon, Prince, and Gawa."

"Yeo." I greeted them as I took a seat next to Zoe.

"Damn, you bad huh?" Prince said sizing me up and down.

"What can I say?" I smirked.

Everyone started laughing at my remark.

"Aye, tomorrow my people ain't gon be home. What's the word?" Brandon says.

"Yall tryna chill by Brandon's house?" Zoe asked everyone.

"That's cool, as long as Billie coming." Prince said.

"Damn Prince you really tryin it. You just met the girl." Gawa said.

"I'm down." I laughed. These people were pretty cool. Prince was a little weird but he was pretty cool. Zoe and Drew were really nice to me and that Brandon kid was fine as fuck but he didn't talk much. It's not like it mattered though. I'm probably not gonna see them a month from now so I know not to get attached.

Okay so i am new to writing and this is my first story. I know this is a lot for the first chapter but I wanted to get all of her back story and her moving to a new home out of the way. This chapter kinda sucks but i have plans for it to get better and make more sense lol. and I will update this as frequently as possible.

PSA: My intentions aren't to give foster care a bad rep. It's obvious that the system is kind of failed but the case I am sharing in this story aren't the cases of all foster kids or orphans. I hope you understand this is just for dramatic purposes.