AllFreeNovel
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Being in the system for the last four years was a living, breathing nightmare that held us hostage against our will. Where we could never escape, never fully wake up, never get a moment of peace.
To speak our minds.
To have a say.
To know someone was on our side.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Bay. I promise.”
“Stop it!” Carly screeched, her voice laced with terror and defeat.
“Cover your ears,” I ordered her. “Like I showed you.”
“Fuck you!” he roared, calling her every name in the book. The sound of dishes breaking on the tile floor followed by ear-piercing screams filled the small space.
I never covered my ears like I made Bailey. I needed to hear, to make sure what his next move would be to keep us both safe. I heard it all.
Every vicious word.
Every blow to their bodies.
Every whimper.
Every sob.
Every time they begged, pleaded, prayed to God to make him stop.
“He’s hurting her, Aiden. He’s really hurting her this time.”
“I know. It’ll be over soon. Just hold on for a few more minutes, okay? Go to your happy place.”
We’d been living with the Byrons for the past year. Before them, it was another shitty family, the Smiths. Before the Smiths, it was the Hunters, and the list went on with how many shitty families we’d been placed with.
Moved without notice, each time praying we’d hit the lottery of foster homes and get a decent family who’d love us, or at least care.
It wasn’t all that bad. Misty was always able to pull some strings to place Bailey and me in the same temporary homes, which was all we wanted.
In four years, we’d been placed in six different foster homes and five different schools.
The foster parents who were supposed to be taking care of us never did.
They drank.
They smoked.
They did drugs instead.
Someone should have done something, but no one ever did.
We never told Misty or any of the other kids’ caseworkers what we saw, or what was actually happening in these homes they believed were safe. Pretending as if life was perfect anytime someone stopped by to check on us. Terrified if we did tell them the truth, they’d split us up.
Each time they moved us, Bailey and I shared the only black trash bag we owned. Not having any proper luggage to go house to house to house in.
Each time they moved us, not all our stuff went with us. Most of our hand-me-downs got left behind for the next kid to wear them.
Each time they moved us, we lost a little more hope, a little more of our dreams, a little more…
Everything.
