AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The difference is I don’t uproot my entire life every few months because I get bored of the place I’m at- I get fuckingterrified. Stagnation could mean death for me. I would love to settle down somewhere permanently, but I don’t think that will ever be an option for me.
I love ABQ, though. It reminds me of a happier time. Winding up in foster care went differently for me than a lot of other kids. I didn’t get there because my parents were incapable of caring for me. Well, I guess I did. Dead people can’t parent, but it wasn’t theirfault.
A house fire stole them from me in the middle of the night. I don’t know the exact details behind it all- people tend not to tell six year old orphans the gruesome realities- but what I was told a million and one times was that I wasso luckymy bedroom door was shut tightly. That singular decision on my parents’ part saved my life.
So when a fireman peeked into my bedroom window and saw me sleeping peacefully, completely unaware everything was burning down around me, he was able to save me and my elephant stuffie from certain death by busting out the glass and climbing in for me. My parents were not granted that same miracle.
I wouldn’t consider myself lucky, though. I lost my parents, my home, and everything I had ever known due to something that could have started as small as a single spark.
They put me with my aunt at first, but it wasn’t a good fit- those are the official words. Unofficially, Aunt Sofie did her very best with me, but I didn’t make it easy on her. I was angry and displaced. I had to start going to school where there were new kids and new people everywhere, without my parents. Aunt Sofie didn’t have my favorite blanket or know how to make my favorite foods, and she wasn’t able to sing the songs I liked in the right tone to calm me down.
Aunt Sofie worked with the state to put me in counseling and programs they thought might help me cope with my grief, but I was uninterested in coping. I just wanted my fucking parents back, and everyone who told me that was impossible became my enemy. The therapist, Aunt Sofie, the case worker, and my first grade teacher all were seen as evil people working against me. I just couldn’t make sense of it.
So after a couple years of trying everything she could come up with, Aunt Sofie surrendered me to the state’s care. I sometimes wonder if she thought they would do better at helping me, if she believed that they had some kind of magic wand that they could wave and make me better, or if she had given up on me and just couldn’t take it anymore.
I understand, either way. It was an impossible task to put on someone who had just lost her brother. She was only twenty-four- a year older than I am now. I can’t imagine being expected to care for a child so deep in mourning and denial as I was. I refused to sleep, choosing instead to scream like a wild animal while tearing apart things throughout the apartment, constantly trying to escape in the middle of the night to try to find my way back home. I was so repulsed by my aunt’s cooking I would puke at the dinner table instead of eating a single bite. I don’t think I could have raised me either, so I’m not holding a grudge. Not now, at least. I definitely was before.
My first foster family was a really nice couple, but I don’t remember much of them. The most I can recall is an overheard conversation in the dark of night.
“That little girl,” the woman they want me to call Mama sobs. “There’s something wrong with her.”
“It’ll be okay,” New Daddy assures her. “Just give her time to settle in. The agency said she didn’t have a history of behavioral issues, so it has to be just being in a new place.”
“No, you don’t understand. You aren’thereduring the day. Look at this! Look at this picture she drew, Greg. Do you know who’s standing in the flames?Us. That’s us she drew, and we’re onfire.”
“Well what do you want to do, Carolyn? Send her back?”
“You’re making me sound like a bad person,” she complains. “This isn’t what we signed up for. I expected there to be some issues, but not like this. She just screams all the time and I’m losing my mind.”
I get it. I was a lot to handle. I wasn’t handling it well, not that I think anyone would, but I think everyone expected me to be a shy little girl clutching my elephant and crying silently. That wasn’t me. I didn’t know how to keep my upset on the inside, so it all came raging right out.
Carolyn and Greg were nice parents, but they wanted to be the parents of a normal kid. Not me. So they sent me back and I went to live with a different family, rinse and repeat for seven years until I went to the Foster Factory, which was my last foster placement ever.
“Hey, I’m cutting you for the rest of the day,” Nate, the manager, says from behind me. “We’re not busy enough.”
“Alright.” I can’t complain. Our tablets haven’t been working so everything has been manual all week which is a pain in the ass. Of course everything crashed as soon as Rhett went on vacation, but he’s supposed to be back soon to deal with it. I don’t really want to go back to the hotel right now, but there’s not much else to do.
I’ve been getting this weird feeling again lately, like someone’s watching me. I know that it’s all in my head. Tony is in prison and will be for another couple of years, but knowing that doesn’t change the way it feels.
I can’t shake off the cold chill spreading down my spine as I gather my stuff up and head for the door. Thankfully the hotel isn’t far from here, because the June heat in New Mexico is stifling. I’m sweating by the time I get inside my air conditioned room.
I need to do laundry, but right now I just want to relax for a little bit. I lock the door and shove the chair under the handle- the way I have with every door for years- and relax on the bed to watch a movie. I’m able to afford pay-per-view now, and I’m going to make good use of it. Laundry can wait.
Chapter Two
Skids
Pres will be back from his vacation soon and I’m already dreading going to BIBO to help him with his computer issues, but it’s not the technology that’s the problem for me. It’s the people, the outside. I like my place inside my safehouse just the way it is. I have no interest in going out in public. There are innumerable risks out there, and I’m quite used to the way I live now.
Most people would probably find my lifestyle boring, but I enjoy the slower pace and total control I have over my everyday life. Except when the tablets stop working at BIBO or the cash registers at Jezebel’s Playhouse go out or I have to deliver surveillance items to someone in the club- putting a house arrest bracelet on Tree or giving Pres bugs to spy on his ol’ lady.
Other than the times that the club needs me for something, I get to enjoy peace. I tried not to follow a strict schedule at first, but that didn’t last long. It’s hardnotto fall into a routine over time, especially when you’re by yourself. So, I’ve already had my breakfast, morning workout, and lunch for today. Now it’s time to prepare the information I need for tomorrow.
I’ve already scoped out the problem at BIBO earlier this week when the shit first started going haywire. The software they’re using is outdated. It’s only three years old, but in today’s world things like that become obsolete incredibly quickly. The updated software I recommended to Pres will require all new hardware- meaning new tablets.
It takes some time to find a place that has the amount of tablets we’ll need to replace everything we currently have, but once I find them I send the pricing info to Pres and wait for him to respond with a yes or no so I know whether to place the order. This stuff is so simple a monkey could do it, but they wouldn’t do it as well as I do.
Unsurprisingly, Pres has forfeited his entire vacation to deal with this stuff going on at home, so he answers quickly and tells me simply,yes. Which means I have to move on to the harder portion of my task- dealing with Mac.
