I'm sorry each part is so short, but unlike my other stories, where I sat
in front of the computer and made them up as I went along, this one I am
writing in a notebook first because I have little time to sit. Each part is
about two or more pages in my notebook, but they are much smaller in type.
Hope you are enjoying the story so far,
~egbkid
~~
I never saw my social worker again after that June morning. All state children were abandoned, as my foster brother said. That's when it started. I had the feeling, rather the urge, to get away. Didn't know what from, still don't.
I saw a doctor about my memory problem when I was in that first foster home. He said one little thing could one day cause all my memories to come crashing back. Well, that was ten years ago.
After the Pulse, I took off out of Atlanta and ran towards Louisiana and New Orleans. It was a nice city, even after all the riots. I was doing pretty good there, they still had a halfway sensible policing system and foster care, so I got stuck back into the care of more people I didn't know. Luckily, it was a nice couple, who lived in what was called the French Quarter. I stayed there about six months. The entire country was in turmoil, but in New Orleans, life went on. Even though my foster parents lost everything in the banks during the Pulse, they still seemed happy. And so was I.
Then I met him.
~~
~egbkid
~~
I never saw my social worker again after that June morning. All state children were abandoned, as my foster brother said. That's when it started. I had the feeling, rather the urge, to get away. Didn't know what from, still don't.
I saw a doctor about my memory problem when I was in that first foster home. He said one little thing could one day cause all my memories to come crashing back. Well, that was ten years ago.
After the Pulse, I took off out of Atlanta and ran towards Louisiana and New Orleans. It was a nice city, even after all the riots. I was doing pretty good there, they still had a halfway sensible policing system and foster care, so I got stuck back into the care of more people I didn't know. Luckily, it was a nice couple, who lived in what was called the French Quarter. I stayed there about six months. The entire country was in turmoil, but in New Orleans, life went on. Even though my foster parents lost everything in the banks during the Pulse, they still seemed happy. And so was I.
Then I met him.
~~
