Emma
As I looked around at the busy streets of San Francisco, all I could think about was how these foster parents were going to treat me. Did they beat the kids for not listening to the rules? Starve them? Lock them in a closet? Or a basement? Were they drug addicts? Alcoholics? All of these questions raced through my mind at once, making me realize, once more, that no one wanted me. After all, this is the eleventh set of foster parents this year, and it's not even been half a year. Overall, I've been sent back to the group home more times than I can count, and I've had over 30 sets of foster parents in the past 15 years of my life. I know, it's a lot, right? But that's me, Emma Swan, the troubled kid who disobeys the rules and is too much work. The kid who had nightmares and wet the bed until she was 8 years old, because nobody bothered to properly potty train her. The kid whose social worker keeps changing because the previous doesn't have anywhere else to place her. The kid who has walls as high as Mount Everest, but deep, deep down, still has the tiniest bit of hope to be a part of a family that actually loves and wants her. A kid who doesn't realize her whole world is about to change. A kid who's finally going to find out where she belongs. This is how I, Emma Swan, became Emma Adams-Foster.