Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Week(s) (02/10/11)
By Julie Chandler
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I know I cause her a lot of work. I didn't really mean for this to happen. A week ago she dropped me of at the Miller's house. My stomach was twisted into knots when we walked up to the front door together. Jillian stood in front of me when she rang the doorbell. She turned towards me. “The Millers are very nice people. They've been fostering for over 14 years. I'm sure you'll like it here,” she smiled. I wasn't so sure.
As we stood, I could hear the television turn off and the shuffling of someone inside. The woman who answered the door was overweight. She had short curly brown hair, blue eyes and rosy cheeks. She led us in to a clean home with worn furniture. The living room in which we sat had many knick-knacks and framed photographs. After offering us iced tea, Jillian and Mrs. Miller chatted for a short time before Jillian gave me a hug and said good-bye.
Mrs. Miller promptly led me to the room that I would share with another girl. Later that night, she informed me of the house rules.
Guess it was one rule too many for me.
As I sit here waiting to be picked up and dropped off at yet another foster home, I wonder. I wonder what it would feel like to live in one home, on one street, to go to one school, and to have people who love me no matter what. I wonder what it would be like to run away – and to have someone chase after me. Silly dreams. The sooner I give up all hope, the better off I'll be. The less it will hurt.
I guess people like Mrs. Miller figure I should be perfect. Whatever. Another week. Another home. I'll be eighteen soon enough.
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