Foster-homes and Parents

Last Time I was in a Foster-home was two years ago. I have been to seven foster-homes since the incident with my psycho father. And thank God 2 years ago was the last time I was in one. Everyone foster-parent said they couldn't handle me though and I had no idea why they couldn't. I followed all their rules (mostly), listened to them talk, and stayed out of their way. I wasn't very social though, so most of the foster-parents thought I was crazy.

In 7 years of foster-homes and parents I have had pothead foster-parents, crack-head foster-parents, hippie foster-parents, a perverted old man, one gang-banger, and as I would call them 'teen' foster-parents. All they did was gossip, squeal, throw tantrums, and smoke pot. Oh and the latest 'parents' to quit on me was Mr. and Mrs. Glare.

Fresh out of the Navy, they said they could handle anything. Ha… right! After the first 2 weeks of me doing nothing, (or my definition of nothing), they told me to leave.

Flashback

"Go to your room, Bella." Mr. Glare practically growled.

I didn't answer him. I just did what he told me to do. I walked upstairs, to my room and sat on my. I was ready for them to tell me to leave just like every other foster-parent did to me. I could hear them talking using my name… often.

Sooo. I got detention for punching Mike in the face. He wouldn't shut up and then he said I was just like my mother, a slut. Who did he think he WAS? I punched him in the face and heard a fast crunching noise and he dropped to his knees crying.

Well, apparently I broke his nose, but I didn't punch him that hard…… ok maybe I did. But seriously, tell me you wouldn't have punched him.

I looked at my wall and saw the 'Rules' hanging there. It had holes in it from the day I was so mad I threw darts at it. Oh God, I HATED these rules. I pulled the piece of paper off the wall and stared at it.

Rules of the Glare House

You may not call us by our first names.

I didn't even KNOW their firsts name!!!!

You will not speak until spoken upon.

I mostly didn't speak at all.

You will not conflict violence on others

… Just this once I did, okay? They should just shut up about their stupid rules. All the rules were ridiculous anyways.

Instead of knocking, Mr. and Mrs. Glare just barged in.

"Bella, leave. Just go." Mrs. Glare said. I just stared at them, unsure of when they wanted me to go.

"Now, Bella." Mr. Glare barked. I was still staring.

They wanted me to leave right now? For some odd reason I felt on the verge of tears. The lump in my throat was getting bigger and I couldn't speak.

"But… but where w-will I go?" I stuttered.

"I don't care. Just leave." Mr. Glare said. I didn't notice where Mrs. Glare went but I heard my dresser drawers rattle open and I turned to see Mrs. Glare shoving my things into a ratty old backpack. Mr. Glare grabbed my arm and started pulling me to the front door.

When he got the front door open, he shoved me trough the door and I turned just in time to catch the backpack Mrs. Glare threw at me. Then the door was slammed in my face. And I stood there in shock.

End of Flashback

So, here I am sitting on the front porch steps of the adoption center. I tried to convince them I was old enough to leave and live on my own but they stressed that I had to be 18. UGH!!! Calm down, 4 more months and you're out of here.

Cars drove past but rarely ever stopped. Nobody wanted a 17 year-old, so every time a family came I sat there waiting to be rejected. My thoughts were interrupted when a Black Mercedes and a Silver Volvo turned in and parked. Out stepped the most beautiful people, I have ever seen.