My name is Esmerelda-Antoinette Marie-Elene Svetlana Saint-Claire Morozov Romano. Yes I know it's long. As I was walking home I saw that there were police at my house. I quickly rushed to see what was happening and talked to one of the policemen. "Ummm excuse me, sir, may I please know what is happening here at my house," I asked sweetly but sternly. "Oh, sweety well your foster father died of an overdose today. You will be dealt with by a social worker for the time being." The police officer said with a sweet smile. I simply nodded and went to go get all my stuff and pack it in my bag. Should I feel happy or sad that he died? I ask myself. I ignore my thoughts and go do my work. I pack all my clothes in a large suitcase. I put all my gadgets for work in my backpack and took my yo-yos with me. I also remember to take my blades with me. The blades I use to cut myself reminding me how big of a failure I am. A tear falls from my eyes. I open the drawer in the room and grab an emerald ring that belonged to my mother. I headed outside the house where a sweet lady greeted me. "Hello darling my name is Tara Lewis and I will be your social worker." She said and I nodded in acknowledgment. "Umm so I have a question, will I be going into the foster system again," I ask kindly. She nods her head no. "Well, I have done a DNA test to see if there were any relatives to take you in and I found your biological father. I called him about an hour ago and he is willingly accepting you. Just before you ask any questions I would like to inform you, you have ten older half brothers and a stepmother. You will be on a private jet tomorrow heading to Italy where your father will pick you up." She says sweetly. "Okay thank you see you tomorrow," I say as I grab a cab and head to a hotel to rest, or should I say prepare.