part 2:

It was around 4:32 when I started packing. I found the biggest duffle bag in the hall closet. I grabbed a large backpack, as well. And a very small cooler, and a ton of water bottles, then I headed to my room. Inside the duffle I put the cooler, and it took up about 1 third of the space. I filled the rest with enough clothes to last 10 days and enough pajamas to last 10 nights. Finally, I added toiletries. In the backpack I had $50 (I saved 20 and stole the rest from my dad), lots of snacks, a whole box worth of granola bars, goldfish, and ready-to-eat-when-you-tear-open chicked pack bag things. I grabbed some candy from my secret stash, and was able to smush 2 apples in the cooler. The rest of my backpack contained a notebook, 3 pencils, a pencil sharpener, a picture of my mom, the wristband she gave me, and a second pair of tennis-shoes. The load was heavy, but I was ready, and it was worth it. 

The sun was barely over peeking over the bushes, but I grabbed a blanket and rearranged some stuff to fit it in, I grabbed a thin pillow, stuffed in under my arm, and headed to the door.

I walked a little bit, struggling somewhat with the heavy load, and then turned around. I looked at the powder blue house I had loved for so long. I narrowed my eyes, now it filled me with rising anger. But then my expression softened. I remembered picking this house with Mom. She shouted with glee as I waddled around and giggled in front of the house. “It’s beautiful,” she had said. And so our adventures had begun. The memories I had, the weight on my shoulders, the sadness I held, I thought they would all be lifted from me at this moment, but they just seemed to press down harder, they grasped firmer with their wicked hands.

Dang, Sunshine, this is incredible! I would totally read this if I found it at the library or a bookstore or something! I can’t wait for the next installment!

This part's not the best....

part 3:

By noon the sun was beating down hard, and I had stopped to rest. I wondered what other people thought when they looked at me. They were probably confused and also had pity. Maybe they had wanted to help, but didn’t know how. Or maybe they looked and didn’t care, maybe didn’t even notice me. Just like everyone in my life.

It was by night time the next day when someone finally said something. It was a lady, with soft green eyes and pale skin and a tight skirt. I was getting ready to sleep when she was walking by with a small fluffy dog. I had found a soft spot in the grass and was shivering a bit as I looked at the stars. She looked around and saw there was no adult. My stomach growled loudly and it seemed to startle her. I sat up and reached for a flash light that I had packed to grab some food. The second I turned it on she noticed the large bags under my eyes and small amount of stuff I had with me. She gasped a little and I gave her a small smile. “What are you doing out here all alone at this hour, sweetheart?” she asked. “Ummmm……,” I replied. I hated lying. “Do you need help?” she asked, kneeling now. “No,”I replied firmly. That was not a lie. “Where are your parents?” she was asking too many questions. “I’m fine, really you don’t need to worry about me,” I said, trying to get her to leave. “You don’t look fine, maybe I should alert authority,” she said. “Oh no please don’t,” I told her, a bit startled. “Sweetheart, do you have a home?” she asked me. I shook my head slowly and replied, “Not a nice one, but I want to stay here.” “I’m doing the right thing for you then, sweetheart.” She told me as she took out her phone.

I was riding in a car when I woke. The last thing I remembered was nearly being forced in and kind voices telling me I should, and then falling asleep inside it. The lady who had talked to me was in shotgun, and another person was next to her. In the mirror, I could see it was a man with a kind looking face. He smiled when he saw me awake and said, “well that was a quick nap.” I wanted to yell at him but instead I whispered it, “dude I’m 11 years old.” He shrugged and said, “meh.” as he pulled into a parking lot. The building was a medium sized, white, one story building out not super close to anything. On the front it read, The O’Neils’ Foster Care Center, and I suddenly felt more nervous and terrified than any other moment in my life.

ummm I don't think this actually how you get into foster care, I defenitly bet there's a longer process, but meh, it's a story. I'm pretty sure I'll wrap it up soon, probably within the next 2 or 3 at the most. 

part 4: 

I have officially have been here for 2 days. I was reading on a couch and the man that drove me here walked in. “Hey girl,” he tipped his head towards me a little, “guess we never properly introduced ourselves, I’m David,” “mmm-Faith,” I mumbled reluctantly, I hated that name. What did my family have faith in? That I would someday be the perfect daughter? They sure don’t act like they like they have faith. “Come on, we have somewhere to be,” David told me.

I was in the car and looking out the window. I had hopped in shotgun, and David hadn’t stopped me. We pulled up a doctor’s office and I was alarmed. “What? N-no,” I whispered, pressing my back against the car door to get as far away from David and his reach as possible. “It’s okay,” he whispered back. And I somehow felt that somewhere, deep down, I thought it might be someday.

When we got inside, I got a little more nervous. It looked so neat inside. I sat down and stared at my hands as they folded over one another. After about 10 minutes of stressing I heard it, my name, the one that never made any sense, the one that only made me angrier. I followed David into a small white room with blinding lights. I was screaming inside, why, why did I have to be here? A few seconds later, a nurse appeared. She weighed and measured me and left as quickly as she got there. The doctor came in a little later and checked my eyes and ears. He then told me to roll up my sleeve. I did as I was told. When I saw him take out the needle, I looked away, closed my eyes, and bit my bottom lip. I let out a large shaky breath as he did it. It wasn’t terrible, I learned to be strong. He left and we left a little later. It was a few days later when David walked in my room, again. He said, “come on, you’re going home!” I didn’t have a home, not one I wanted anyway. He smiled and motioned for me to come with him. I sighed but followed. We shoved all my stuff in the car and I looked out the window again. My mind had me lost in my own world until I heard a door slam. I was startled back into reality and immediately wanted to go back to my world.I was in front of that powder blue house. The one I had picked out with my mom, the one that I had run from. And now I was back. And my so called family was inside, not at all worried about me, just plain mad. And I couldn’t help but worry more.

this part's short, and, well not very sweet actually....

part: 5 

I walked up the front steps, half hidden behind David. He gave me a quizzical look and rang the doorbell. I let out a long, quiet, shaky breathe. My dad came to the door. “Where have you been!” he hollered. Then he looked David in the eye and asked, “who are you and why are you with my daughter?” I saw him flinch a little on the word ‘daughter’. David explained everything, thank goodness. I would’ve never had the guts to. My dad was red-faced angry, and he told David as he yanked me inside, “thanks I guess,” and then he slammed the door. I felt like crying. Lauren and her mom came downstairs. And seconds later I was pinned to the ground. 

Pain was coming at me from every angl, it soared through my body. I could barely breathe. Now I knew I didn’t want this as my family.

5 minutes later, they stopped. I waited till they disappeared. Then I crawled to the phone. I called David first, he gave me his number. I told him I need him, I needed to go back. Then I called the number that would save me, the number that terrified me, too. It said, “911 what’s your emergency?

phox says mdaah. are you mad? are you just crazy and say weird things all the time?  

alright this is it. the moment you've been waiting for, THE FINALE! 

part 6/finale:

I was staring at the ceiling. The white ceiling of the moving white room. It scared me. My ‘family’ was in a cop car. I breathed heavily. David was with me, and so was the lady from the first time. They felt like more of a family to me. It made me feel at home when they were with me, but not the powder blue house. That was no home to me.

I woke up in the hospital. I had fallen asleep. I felt much better, but didn’t look so good. I had scars everywhere. NO NO NO! I CAN’T BE MORE DIFFERENT THAN BEFORE, I CAN’T BE MORE…..like who I really am. I screamed in my head. I was ready to leave, so I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. It was 3 days later when I could. I was glad. I left with David. We went back to the foster care center. David came into my room the next day. He told me, “we found a home for you, girl!”

We were driving, and we left town. A little out of town, we pulled in front of a house the same powder blue color as the old one. I was surprised. I was scared. David rang the doorbell for me. A woman with pixie cut hair and a scar across her face came to the door. Her hair was right in the middle of light brown and blonde. I didn’t recognize her, but apparently she knew me. Her soft voice asked, “Faith?” I knew that voice, it pierced my heart. It was from a long time ago, it made me sad. It reminded me of my mom’s voice. I stared into her eyes and suddenly I knew, I ran away, straight into my mother’s arms.

We kept throwing ourselves into each other’s arms . I barely believed this. I learned everything, Mom had been in a car crash and she and dad had thought about splitting for a long time. When mom had recovered she and dad signed divorce papers. They thought it was best I thought she was dead because it would make it easier. I was happy, but felt lied to. But I was here, right where I needed to be. I told her about dad and lauren and my stepmom. She was a bit surprised. We talked for a while like that. I was somewhere good, somewhere that wasn’t the worst place to be every moment. I was somewhere where I could be me, without being hated, different. I was home.