Starbucks (A Lin Manuel Miranda Adopted Story.)

1. How You Found Me

Jays pov

16 years ago my parents went on a trip to Puerto Rico Leaving me with my grandmother. They were meant to return the following week. But on the way back their Plane crashed. People assumed they were dead. The truth is no one knows. My father's parents had died and my mom had only her mother who at the time was only 86 years old. The following year she died of natural causes. At that time I was pushed into the awful world of foster home. At the time that I started, I was only a baby. Everyone thought people would want me. Apparently, I was a fairly cute child, Natural red and brown hair, vibrant Blue eyes with green streaks coming out of the pupil, plump pink lips, and light healthy skin. You would think I was white, but I am as Latina as they come. In the last 15 years, I went through 30 families and only one of those families gave a crap about me. I remember this one family: they were a couple named Lily and Oscar Pocatello. I was five when I moved in with them and it was great they cared about me more than anyone else. At that point, I had gone to 10 homes and I thought there would be my last. Until one day that summer. I remember it like it was yesterday.

"Jay, could you come down for a minute Lily and I need to talk to you," Oscar yelled up to me. I knew something was wrong right off the bat. He always told me to call them mom and dad because that's all they wanted to be." yeah what's up?" I said coming into the green and orange room. "Sweetie, could you sit down please?" Lily gestures and tours the emerald green couch behind me and I tentatively sit down. "So we have some news for you," Lily said shyly holding her husband's hand. "We're having a baby girl and she's due in 5 months. Her name is Marianne!" Oscar blurted out "that's so exciting, are we going to share a room?" I asked thinking they would say yes but what I was told next was the hardest thing for me to hear in my life. " oh, well that's what we have to talk to you about. We really love you but we're going to have our own biological child and well it would be easier with only one kid and we would prefer it be our own. It's not that we don't love you we really do but you'll find another great family we promise" Oscar said. I've yet to find another great family at this point. I believe it will never happen. It's been 11 years and 22 new homes.

It's funny how I get tossed around like garbage. Things have only gotten worse for me and I don't think they'll ever get better. I can only go down I guess. I guess you're wondering where I am now. I am with the Nicholas family and this is my 30th home and will most likely be my last. At the age of 16, they stop worrying about moving you around. You only have 2 years left so why care. This morning I awakened slowly, everything was calm and I was numb. Memories of yesterday's events Flash through my head. Then Life Starts to come back to me once my body awakens. Feeling the stabbing pain in my head and stabbing aches throughout my body. I struggle out of bed and slowly make my way to the family room. Every step I take sends shock waves of pain through my legs and hips. I walk to my mirror and what I see makes me gasp and look away. My face has a large cut on my cheekbone that matches the cut on my bottom lip. On my other cheek, I have a bruise and my collar bones are also bruised. I look at the clock and it reads 3 Pm.

"Jay gets down here now!!!" my older foster-brother yelled up to me. I was terrified of him. I've been here for three months and it didn't take long to realize they were only in it for the money. They get 900 bucks a month for taking me in and I'm decently sure they weren't spending that on me. Some nights I got to eat dinner with the family but was always Denied my breakfast or lunch. A lot of the families did this but I never understood why. Out of the 30 homes, I've been pushed into. This is the first one where I actually get my own room with nobody else. That's not always a good thing though. I ran downstairs as quickly as possible "yes?" I said not looking in his eyes "did you touch anything in the kitchen?" he asked innocently "No not at all" I responded still not looking up to meet his gaze.

Andrew tilted my head up to meet his gaze and then his fist collided with my face, blood rush to my cheeks as I stumbled back and hit the kitchen wall. He grabbed my hair's slamming me to the floor. Once there he started kicking me and punching me and slamming my head into the floor then he grabbed something I couldn't tell what it was and he started hitting me with it hard. With each hit, he got harder and harder and harder. I honestly thought he would kill me and to be quite honest that wouldn't be the worst thing. But he stopped and said "look at me when I talk to you, Stop being a disrespectful little whore. We brought with you in and we never did it for you, we did it because we get 900 for you. We don't love you no one will ever love you; you're just a fucking waste of space, my personal punching bag. Killing yourself would be the best thing for you to do."