I glad everyone's enjoying this so much. Thanks again for the great reviews.
Instead of keeping us in Wichita, they took Laura and me to Topeka. The social worker called it protective custody, in case anyone from "their" family tried to come after us to hurt us. They said it was only gonna be temporary, but I knew better. I'd overheard the social worker talking before we left her office. They didn't want dad to find us either. Apparently they'd found some information on him that included a rather interesting police record. They considered him "unstable" and planned to take the boys from him as soon as they could. It was a good thing all our letters went through Pastor Jim before they came to us.
The house was nice, so were the adults, (I never could remember their names), but something about it just felt wrong. Like that feeling you get when you just know something bad is gonna happen. They took us inside and showed us to our rooms. There were 2 other bedrooms on that floor. The woman said they belonged to two boys that also lived there. One boy was 16, I don't remember his name either, and the other was 15, his name was Jeremy.
Everything was fine for a whole 3 months. We went to school like regular kids. Even started making a few friends. The teachers told our foster parents that they should try to get permission from social services to skip us up a grade cause we so smart. The state didn't like that idea. They said that we needed to try and be normal kids first. It didn't really matter to me one way or the other. I was happy. Laura wasn't. She wanted to be with dad and the boys. She kept asking Dean in her letters when dad was coming to get us.
One night, the adults decided to go out to dinner. They left Laura and me with the 2 boys. Things were fine until Laura and I went to bed. I woke up to Laura screaming. I jumped up and ran into her room. Jeremy had Laura's arms pinned above her head and the other boy was trying to hold her still so he could take her underwear off. I don't remember anything after that.
I woke up in the hospital a few hours later with a killer headache. Laura was sitting next to me and motioned for me to be quiet. She was listening to the adults right outside the curtain. I recognized the voices of our foster parents, the social worker, and the shrink. The other voice must have belonged to the E.R. doctor. Our foster parents kept saying they would take Laura back to their house, but after what had happened, they didn't want me there. The social worker and the psychiatrist were saying that things would get worse if we were split up. The E.R. doc said I wasn't going anywhere for at least a week cause the cops had beaten me so bad.
Just then a nurse came in to change my I.V. bag and my foster mom saw that I was awake. The doctor said they should continue the discussion some place more private and he led them all away. After the nurse left and Laura made sure we were alone I asked her if she was ok and what had happened. Why did I get beat up by the cops.
She said that after I got into her room, my eyes went all funny and I yelled at the boys to get off my sister. The 16 year old pushed me down and went back to what he was doing. Laura said I jumped up and grabbed the kid by the back of his hair and pulled him backwards off the bed. Then I just started punching him in the face. Jeremy tried to stop me, but I just pushed him into the wall and went back to beating on the other boy. Jeremy left the room and went into his.
While he was gone, Laura ran downstairs and called the cops. She walked back into her room right behind Jeremy. He had a metal baseball bat in his hand. The 16 year old was completely unconscious and bleeding everywhere cause at some point I decided hitting him wasn't enough and started banging his head into the floor. Laura screamed for me to look out and I turned just in time to get hit in the side of the face with the bat.
I stood up and turned to face Jeremy. When he started to swing a second time, I just ripped the bat right out of his hands and started beating him with it. I was still hitting him when the cops showed up. They tried to grab me or the bat to stop me, but I wouldn't stop. They finally took out there night sticks and started hitting me. It took 7 or 8 swings from them to knock me down and another 4 to knock me out.
I told Laura that I didn't remember any of that. I still don't. I don't know if that's from the cops having to beat me unconscious to stop me, or something worse. That's when I started to believe that there was some kind of monster inside me. Something that would do a lot worse if some one ever tried to hurt my sister again.
The 16 year old had to have plastic surgery to repair the damage to his face. Jeremy was a lot worse off. He was in a coma for 2 weeks and had to have several surgeries to repair the damage to his internal organs, including a liver transplant. There was also severe brain damage, his memory was intact, but he had to relearn how to do almost everything cause his body didn't work the same anymore. He was in the hospital for a total of 5 months, but none of this is why I can remember his name when I can't remember any of the others. I'll come to that a little later I this story.