My journey to steem pt: 2

in story •  7 years ago 

My first day in foster care was probably one of the scariest days of my life. I was all alone and I had no one. And to go a step further, not to sound racist or anything, but I was placed with an elderly black woman in downtown Louisville. I remember being afraid and alone. During that first night, I remember her taking us to some church event and I was like what the fuck I don’t want to be here I want to go home.

The very next day I was woken up abruptly at around 6 am and given a hammy down school uniform to put on. I was absolutely flabbergasted that they were sending me to a new school on my first full day of being in foster care. That’s when it hit me, this will be my opportunity to escape and go back home to my friends and family. In a school setting, I will blend in and no one will know my circumstances other than maybe a select few of the staff and whomever I choose to tell about what’s happening to me. So I went through the motions of the school day and eventually the last bell rang and everyone was dismissed to their buses. At this point instead of getting on a bus and returning to my new foster home I casually walked of the premises.

Now I really was alone. I didn’t have anything but a few school supplies in a grocery bag and it was beginning to rain. As I walked alone down the side of the road I kept telling myself that it won’t be long before I’m surrounded by my friends and family again. Just as I had that thought I turned my nose up to familiar scent in the air. Sure enough there was a couple of kids my age (14) standing under a large evergreen tree smoking pot. I remember thinking to myself, “finally my kind of people.” So I walk up and introduce myself they pass me the blunt and I go on to explain my situation. I can’t remember both of the guy’s names but one has always stuck with me because his name was Noah. The only reason I remember is because I felt like he was leading me out of this miserable situation I was in. But these were a couple of standup guy’s I remember as the time came that we were finished smoking they each gave me the few dollars they had in their pockets and wished me good luck.

By this time I was stoned as fuck, it was pouring down rain, and all I could do was keep walking. Eventually I came to a gas station with a pay phone. I remember standing there wondering who I could call and whose number I could even remember. I called a few different numbers, only letting it ring a few times because I couldn’t risk it going to voicemail and losing my change. Finally someone answered the phone as I explained the situation he cut me off and asked where I was and told me he was on the way.

Fast forward to the next day, I’m extremely paranoid the cops are going to come and get me. I’m sleeping on friend’s couches and moving around from place to place for the first few days because I hadn’t yet told my mom that I had escaped. I knew if the cops came asking for me she could also go to jail if I was found there. After a few days of moving around I went home. I wasn’t going to school and the cops were coming to my house every day, this went on for what seemed like months but in reality was only a week or two.

Finally the cops caught up with me and they came in full force. I remember it was early one morning and a couple of my friends were skipping school and hanging out at my house because at this point I had an absentee mother. We were all sitting in my living room just talking and shooting the shit when the cops arrived. I remember running to the back door only to see one car had pulled around to the back door so I ran to the front door and realized one cop had pulled up to the front door and another car by the road. I was frantic I didn’t want to go back so I did the only thing I could I climbed into the attic and hid. The cops knocked on the door everything seemed ok until they started applying pressure. And would you know it someone had cracked and gave me up. It wasn’t my friends it was my family that gave me up. My very own brother told them I was in the attic.

This is a photo of me taken that day as I was taken to a foster home far away of anyone I knew. They even game me a duffle bag like it was some kinda of consolation prize for being put into foster care. I remember them telling me that I may be moving around alot from now on and this would be an easy way for me to carry my stuff.

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