Disclaimer: I own nothing and I cry that I never will :'(
This is my first fanfiction. Review so I know if I'm wasting my time. Lol.
We're the Same.
It's not that I don't like children. I just don't know how to communicate with them. It's not like I actually had a childhood - well at least a normal childhood - to compare it to. I don't know what they want. I don't know how to get along with them. But most of all, I don't understand the innocence.
When Grissom told me that I'd be looking after Brenda, I panicked. I wasn't the mom, Catherine was. The more I got to know her though…She was different…Like I was. I never fit in. Of course, I wasn't as withdrawn as her, but I was secluded. She is and was an evolved version of me - in the worst sense of it.
My father was killed and so was hers - but so was the rest of her family. She was going into foster care; like I had to. The worst was what I learned later. Yet, even before then, I had bonded with that little girl. She needed me and who was I to deny that right?
I know what it's like to be in foster care. It isn't good, in some cases worse than where you came from. However there are some descent people out there for those kids. And after Brenda had no other choice than to go to my old nightmare, I made it my personal responsibility to make sure she got the best placement I could find. I only regret that I can't do that for all of them.
At the time, though, I would not give her to social services. I don't really trust them anyway. When I was taken, I didn't want that woman to leave - and I was thirteen. Here was a scared little girl, half that age; and that woman was treating her more like property than life. Who would have thought I would have seen the human element for a change.
Her mom saved her, like mine. And now I finally understand where my mom was coming from when she did what she did. I personally couldn't have. There had to be other options. But, to be honest the thought did cross my mind when I found out about Brenda. I only hope she realises what her mother did for her. I know I could have been more grateful.
When I found out what had happened to her, I felt physically sick, and I nearly was. That would have been one to add on the very few times I can still count on one hand. In that moment, I felt like I was watching my own past. The only difference was that I was the first, instead of second generation.