Today, I woke up in my friends house. I wasn’t shocked at all. I was actually a bit relieved. I remember last night in a blur. My adoptive “parents” yelled at me for something I don’t even remember. They were screaming at the top of their lungs. I’m not even sure why or what I did that was so wrong.
The bad part came when Brian, my “dad” raised his arm. I could’ve sworn he was gonna smack me. So, as his hand was about to hit my face i stopped him. I kicked the bastard in the groin so hard, I hope he won’t be able to stand. It was out of my natural instincts. When I saw the look on both of their faces I just said that I had gone through abuse and they could bet their asses that I wasn’t going through it again. Then, I sprinted out the door. I couldn’t stay. That probably would end in my death. I’m not sure if I mean that figuratively or literally.
I ran to my friends house. It was the closest place I could go. I thought that since we hadn’t talked in months, that he would push me away, but he didn’t. And if that didn’t take me aback enough then the next thing he did definatly did. He actually let me stay with him. I’ve said so many rude things to him and I’ve pushed him away. But he still says I’m his best friend.
I’m honestly confused. I guess he’s just the bigger person. wouldn’t surprise me. His parents are never home, considering that his dad’s a marine and his mom works like 24/7. So I slept by his bed. I felt…safe I guess. It’s not something that I’ve felt in a while, and it felt damn good.
Then I woke up this morning, and we talked about the fights we had, and my friend that died, and we caught up.
I swear he was gonna go kick the living daylights out of Brian, but I told him I already had.
At least I have one friend who really cares. He’ll actually listen to me. I hope I don’t screw this up.
I feel nice to have someone who cares.
Seriously, I was abused in one of my foster homes. And I’ve seen two of my friends go through the same thing. I’ve been through counseling and I’ve learned from one of my foster brothers how to defend myself.
I’ve seen the wooden spoon, the belt, the hand, and simply, words come out. Oh, and let’s not forget the good old times I had locked in the upstairs closet. “This is for your own good.” “This’ll teach ya to be rude.” “Life isn’t fair you little pig.”
Yeah my FANTASTIC Â childhood.
1 comment
I too was in foster care as a child. Three to be exact. I blocked out most of the memories except for a few; the trashbags to carry around my minimal belongings from home to home. I had a friend my age who I shared a bedroom with at a home of a hispanic family. She eventually was moved and it broke my heart more than I realize. We both understood eachother, both about 8 1/2 taken from our families and placed with strangers, we found solace with eachother and I’ll never forget her. I can only wonder where that little girl went.
Foster care, in my opinion, is a broken system. There is so much abuse and neglect within these homes to even traumatize children who come from healthy families, let alone us who come from chaotic backgrounds.
I’m glad you ran to your friend’s house despite your hesitations. A person whom I respect once told me “It’s never to late to reach out to someone.” So, regardless of how long you’ve alienated someone by pushing them away, reaching out to them is the strong thing to do. It shows that you value their friendship over your pride and if they truly care about you, they will understand. I think Brian understands. And that is invaluable.
You’re lucky to have such a friend as Brian. Cherish that friendship and use it to help you become the bigger person in your family. If you’re old enough, I suggest getting a job so you can start becoming more independent and it will give you a good reason to spend less time at home.
<3