27 Foster Homes
CLOVE:
"One ticket to San Francisco, California please."
The annoyance was obvious in my voice. "All righty, then can I get your passport to secure your identity?" the brunette secretary chirps as she shuffles though a thick amount of papers. I pull the battered passport out of the back pocket of my mud spattered jeans and slap it on the granite table. She picks it up gingerly by her middle and thumb fingers, gives me a look of disgust and opens the passport. "Are you ready for the questions?" she asked. "Yes." I answered impatient.
"Name?"
"Clove Isabelle Lann"
"Good. Date of birth?"
"October 31, 1997"
"Excellent! Place of birth?"
"The back of a Surban"
She coughs uncomfortable and whispers "I meant a town and state, darlin'"
"Oh! Richmond, Virginia, then."
The secretary smiles at me and with perfect blue manicured nails; she starts to type away the keyboard.
"Let's see. Parents disappeared after your arrival in '97. Since no relatives were able to take you in, you were sent to Baltimore's Home for Girls and the house you are about to go to is your twenty- seventh home and if you mess up on this one you leave the system, Correct?" She states happily.
It's like she takes joy in me being an orphan.
"Yes ma'am." I answer, sugar-coating every word as she passes me a plane ticket.
"Have a great flight and remember to always fly with Capitol Airlines!" she says cheerful while giving me a fake salute. I give her a forced smile, shoulder my bag and wheel my carry-on toward the terminal.
Why is this path so familiar?
Walking to airplanes to take me to a new home for what...six months? Two months? A week? I guess that is the price to pay when you are an orphan that no one wants to take in. It's hard living with the price that your own parents didn't even want you. The only thing I have left of my parents is a battered army jacket with the name Lt. Lann stitched into the name tag. I must be really unlike able since twenty-six people hated me enough to send me back.
You know what's really bad?
If my last foster home kicks me out, I am out of the system.
No pressure right?
I sigh and run a hand turn my shaggy, uneven black hair as I go through security. They have me remove my army jacket and combat boots, stick them in a plastic box. They send them through a security machine and eventually a police officer hands them back. I thank the kind lady, throw my jacket back on and carry my boots to a bench. I eventually wrestle my feet into the boots, lace them up and walk to the plane. Right before I get on, I look over my shoulder, seeing all the bustling people.
I close my eyes and think
"Good-bye Baltimore"
"This cannot be happening."
The girl in front of me has wild brown hair, grey eyes and a pale face. In her left hand is a white iPhone and in the other is a copy of Veronica Roth's Divergent.
"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as I toss my carry-ons onto the compartment above us. I pull out my grey iPod and my copy of the Beautiful Creatures by Kami Garcia and Margret Stohl.
"You're Ester from the Orphan, right?" she questions, her head tilting to the left.
"No..." I answer suspiciously as I settle into my blue chair and open my book. The girl takes the chair next to me and adds
"So you're not gonna kill me?"
I roll my eyes and snap my book shut. "I'm not Ester, I won't kill you, alright?" I snap, turning my attention back to my book.
"Sorry..." she says her voice getting small, her head looking down. She looks back up at me a few seconds later, sticks her hand out and says,
"I'm Addie"
I look back at her, a slight grin on my face, shake her hand and say,
"Clove"
"Ladies and gentlemen, the ten-thirty movie will start in a few minutes. Please accept these complementary blankets and headrest for your comfort. Enjoy."
Once the blankets and headrest are handed to me, I pass one headrest and blanket to Addie and keep the rest for myself.
"You gonna watch this?" she asked, wrapping the blankets around her legs.
"Nawh, I'm gonna get some sleep." I reply, sticking one earbud in my ear.
"Wake you up when breakfast comes around?" she adds.
"Could you seriously do that?" I question.
"It's no problem! I'm a night owl anyways." she answers, a proud look on her face.
"Thanks." I reply giving her a smile, I place the other earbud in my ear and drift off to the sound of Madeline Furhman in my ears.
A few hours later...
"Addie, Can you please turn that shit down? I am trying to sleep here!" I whisper groggily.
"Sure thing Clover!" She replied with a smile, before ducking her head, trying to find the volume control on her seat.
"It's Clove. How are you still up?"
"I told you I am a night owl! HooHoo!" She shot back with a laugh. My eyes scanned the floor, and I found the expected- two cups of coffee, plus the one in her hand. I grabbed the near empty cup and said,
"No more coffee for you. And can you please turn it down!"
"Not unless you give me my coffee!" she laughs.
That was when I heard it. The movie Addie was watching was almost over, and you know what happens at the end of a cheesy romance film? That's right; you guessed it-credits with just as cheesy music blaring in the background. But those lyrics weren't cheesy to me.
Well, I don't know if you remember me or not I'm one of the kids they brought in from the home I was the black-haired girl in an old, green flannel shirt You may not have seen me, I was standing off alone
I didn't come and talk to you 'cause that's never worked before And you'll probably never see this letter, anyway But just in case there's something you can do to help me out I'll ask you one more time
All I really want is someone to tuck me in. A shoulder to cry on if I lose, shoulders to ride on if I win. There's so much I could ask for, but there's just one thing I need All I really want is a family
I didn't notice the tears that had started to trickle down my cheeks as I thought of all the track meets, soccer games, tae kwon do matches, singing recitals, and events at school- that I spent alone. Searching for a familiar face in the crowd, for my foster families, my aunts, cousins, and when I was really young- my parents.
I gave a scream of agony, and lunged at her. I tackled her to the ground, and started screaming at her.
"I told you to turn the fucking movie off! Are you deaf? You have ears, use them. Be grateful that you have them. I know a lot of people who don't have nearly as much as you, who don't have the new iPhone5- I have a second hand iPod that one of my foster siblings threw away! Be grateful you have parents there for you, who are probably back in Baltimore, cryin' because they miss you. I have nothin' ; the closest I have to family are the other kids at the Island of Misfit Girls…."
I trailed off, as a tear rolled down my face, and splashed onto her cheek. A flight attendant hauled me off of Addie.
Not before I got a good whack at her eye.
Black-eye for you sucker!
Addie was staring at me wide eyed- she slowly shut off the movie, and said
"Movie's off Esther."
I could see the flight attendant reach into her pocket to pull out some communication device, so I told her I was fine, and there was a miss-communication.
Even Addie has labeled me as a misfit.
We spent the rest of the plane ride in awkward silence. There was nothing else for me to do, other than think. The song that was playing in the credits was still in my mind. Almost taunting me.
All I really want is someone to tuck me in a shoulder to cry on if I lose, shoulders to ride on if I win There's so much I could ask for, but there's just one thing I need All I really want is a family
I thought of all the trophies, and awards I had received without any form of congratulation from my 'family.' Great families- who forget to pick up their children, who don't bother to meet with teachers when their child is having trouble in school. Families who only care about their birth children, their work, and I almost forgot! Families who care about their furniture. They were horrible. But not the worst.
I had knocked through 26 foster homes, which is quite an achievement for a fifth-teen year old girl. What can I say? Apparently I was a problem child, and I have the history to prove it.
When I was one year old, I had a tendency to scream during the night. Well, apparently, that is a sign of a physiologically damaged kid- and no parent wants to be responsible for the next mass murderer. So back to the Baltimore's Home for Girls I went- five times. five homes down, twenty-two to go.
I was a born runner from the start. When I was two, I loved to play hide and go seek. I loved the hiding part. I would sprint all over the house, as silent as- well nothing, and my incapable brothers and sisters could never find me. Even the parents- I guess when you are 35, your eyesight starts to fail you. After my 'disappearance' for two days, they gave up and called the place I had come to know as prison. You get bailed out, and get sent right back in. Let's cross off homes six, seven, and eight.
At the age of three, I would jump on beds like they were trampolines. And to a three year old, they were. After one incident where I broke the frame of my foster parent's bed, I found myself staring at the cracked celling of the Island of Misfit Girls. After a few more instances which involved a porcelain china set, and a granite kitchen counter- I was told to pack my bags- and I ended up where I started. There goes family number nine and ten.
I was labeled as a major distraction at four years old. I was kicked out yet another two times because, in the words of my foster brother 'who can study for SAT's when a loud four year old is running around?' Well, dumbass- don't adopt a four year old in the first place then! If you ask me, that kid would have failed his SAT's even without me posing as a 'distraction.' Another two homes I was evacuated from- eleven, and twelve.
Apparently, I could not touch anything in the house unless 'my name was written all over it'. Well, the next morning, foster family number thirteen woke up to a Clove-dazzled house. After the snow cone machine and Xbox were considered vandalized, I waved goodbye to yet one more foster family.
It was bring your children to work day. I was six, and my foster dad was a bus driver. It was late, and we were taking the bus back to the garage. I was sitting on his lap, and thought it would be a good idea to play with the steering wheel. Long story short, I crashed the bus into a tree, resulting in my dad getting fired. Bye, bye house number fourteen! At the age of six, I was rejected by more families than I could count.
When I was seven, Instead of your typical family, an old woman adopted me. She was extremely religious, and was convinced that one day; even God could not protect me from rapists or kidnappers. I was enrolled in some kind of training academy, where I became a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, a nationally ranked runner, and an expert at knife throwing. Why knife throwing? Apparently, even with my extreme hand to hand combat training, size trumps speed- so I needed to be able to protect myself from a distance. It was a weird school, but the lady who sent me there said it was in the name of Jesus Crist. I neglected to tell her I was Jewish… I stayed there for two years! I could do no wrong in her eyes. A record, but then she passed away. Apparently I could not access my inheritance till I am eighteen, and I was eight at the time. But that was home number fifteen.
When I was nine, my family took me to the zoo as a treat. I didn't know that the animals were supposed to be in cages, so I ran around the zoo thinking I was saving the animals. You know what happened; they bailed on me once again, leaving me to the wolves. Back to jail for me! Adios family number sixteen!
At ten years old I was an absolute idiot. Some kids at the Baltimore Home for Girls, dared me to go through three homes in one year. I did so before anyone could say gullible! Speaking of gullible, did you know it isn't in the dictionary!? … GOT YOU: GULLIBLE!
Have you ever wondered what is inside a water bed? I use to think that fishes lived in mattress. Don't try to find out if they are…. That did not end well. Eleven year old me ended up flooding the house, so I had to swim my way out of house number twenty….
At the age of twelve, I had experienced things well beyond my years, one of which was living with an abusive family. I don't like thinking about this too much, as all I can remember is the smell or beer, and cigarettes. I called myself out of house number twenty-one, and for once- I was glad to leave. To bad foster family number fiftheen's training didn't help much.
When I was 13, I realized how unwanted I was. It hit me when my foster mom 22 got pregnant, and they booked a flight ASAP. I realized I was a replacement, and no one would ever value me for well…me.
Speaking of that. When I was 14, I began to look more mature. I had recently grown a couple inches, and added a cup size to my bust. The next families, numbers 23, 24, and 25 all had older brothers. And I was too dumb to get it after house 24. I called myself in yet again, all three times. It only made me feel even more unwanted, as if that was even possible. For the rest of the year, I stayed with a family who had a girl my age. And boy was she a drama queen. She threatened to run away if I didn't leave. She couldn't share well…. So… you guessed it! I was cast away from house 26.
And now, I am on a flight to a new life. And hopefully, I said goodbye to Baltimore for good.
CHAPTER 1! How was it guys? Reviews = Love... 3
We worked together nonstop the last 2 or so weeks to get this out, so we hope you are as exited as we are!
The Polyvore to Clove's outfit is below:
clove_lann_arriving_in_california/set?id=82181388&lid=2552744
NEXT CHAPTER: HINT- we will meet the whole gang!