No one left me alone for the rest of my short stay at Medical Lake hospital. Seliah came to visit me often until finally I left. My first home from there was with a couple named the Edversons. They were truly a nice couple and had a kid around my age, Henry I think was his name. Life with them was a privilege I took for granted until they decided fostering wasn't the right path for them a year into my stay.

From there it just got worse.

I spent a few months in a group home until another couple took pity on me. They were the McLaughlins. Only three months into my stay with them, and they were already worn out. Claimed I was too much work. This was actually a real true fact. I constantly had nightmares of fires and high pitched cries. Sometimes they would be my mothers. Other times it would be my brothers. Always they never stopped until I sprang up from my bed, covered in sweat and screaming to no end.

Next came the Kents. I spent a year with them. They were a young couple who had no kids. Their excuse for leaving me was simple: they couldn't handle the responsibility.

Following them was McKinnons. My stay with them last only about three months. Nice people, but too busy to take care of a young child.

After then came the Zellers. I stayed with them for a good two years before they decided to move to someplace in Europe without me.

I was around ten around the time they dropped off at a group home. By that age, I was fully aware that no one seemed to want me, yet still so positive. My reasoning was simple: Seliah said one day she'd find me a family who would adopt me. So I never stopped hoping and praying.

A couple of months later a couple, the Raabs, welcomed me into their home. They were an old couple. I was the granddaughter they'd always wanted until their son and his wife announced their pregnancy. Now everything revolved around their unborn grandchild. Pretty soon I began yesterday's news.

Again, I went back to another group home, this time for longer than any time prior. I got close to this volunteer there and eventually, she filled out the paperwork to allow me to live with her. Life with her was fun and peaceful. She was the cool older sister I never knew I wanted until I had her. But like how all good things have to come to an end, her and I's time did just that two months into my stay. Out of all the reasons everyone who's ever left me gave, I still like and understand her best: her racist parents didn't approve of her raising a black child. She didn't say so in as many words, but thirteen years old me took it that way.

Back to the group home I went.

A little over two months later, and my new foster parents would arrive. The first time they visited the group home, they came in expensive suits and animal coats. Everything about them screamed money, and I was as poor and as dirt. I can't describe how much envy spilled out of my being during the minutes the other children and I starred at them.

The second time they came, they downplayed their clothe and screamed less like money and more like normal people. That time, they had brought their son. He was tall, only around five five at that time, but keep in mind I wasn't much taller than four eleven at that age. His skin had this natural olive tan that I would later learn was because his mom was Filipino. He had curly brown hair and teeth too straight and too white. Everything about him was like that: surreal and so unnatural.

That alone should've hinted at the fact that he was trouble, but I was too stupid to realize it at the time.

So when the Allens picked me as the child they would foster, I didn't think twice before thanking the good Lord. Not only was I going to live with a rich family, but they also had a cute son!

It seemed like a dream come true, and it truly was for a long while. They gave me pretty much anything I wanted, as long as I smiled and went to every ball and formal event they hosted. I also got to get close to their son, Jaxson, a mistake I would regret for many, many years to come. But at the time, it had all seemed so right. He was the first guy to take a real liking to me, and he was a year older than I. In my naive eyes, he had been a god. And so I had treated him like it. Anything he wanted, I would do or get. For the longest time, I treated his words as if they were gold. In return, he let a group of awful men have their way with me.

So that was that with the Allens.

I went back to the group home, and this time I stayed there for almost a year.

I was barely Fifteen when the Hoeraufs took an interest in the fostering agency. At first sight, they seemed like the break I needed: nice looking people with seemingly normal intentions. People are deceiving, never forget that.

Turns out they were only in it for the foster money they got every month. Money that was supposed to be used for my well being was spent on cigarette and tobacco. No money was left for my needs. I ate whatever they had in the fridge, when and if they had anything. Often times I had to sleep in the little attic as it was always a party with them, and 'my' bedroom was always where the guests preferred to be.

To make a long story short, I ended up leaving the Hoeraufs within just a couple of months.

You can probably guess what happened next: group home again.

At this point in my life, I'd long given up on the idea of ever finding a family again. So beyond tired of being tossed from family to family as if I was a simple rag doll anyone could do anything with, I just wanted all of it to end. The sole reason that kept me going were the words Seliah had whispered to me in the hospital after finding out I had once again attempted to end my own life:

"What would your parents say?"

"I don't know. Dead people don't talk."

She had grabbed my hand and forced me to look into her sparkling green eyes. "They would tell you how proud they are at how well you've handled all the injustice life has handed you. They would tell you to keep fighting and to never give up. So do just, Chica. Keep fighting. Don't let this world win."

I ended up living in the group home longer than any time before for another two months.

A couple by the name of 'Bays' got me this time around. They were nice people in general, with the exception that they treated me like a second class person when it came to anything to do with their son, Vill. This fact wouldn't have mattered if Vill hadn't distasted me with every breath he breathed. But he did. Call it agency, but I've never understood why he loathed me so much. Long story short, I ended up leaving his family after six months.

I was more than fine with this, especially when I found out the group home I'd live in this time around was in the North Pacific West, Portland Oregon to be specific. My parents had lived in the northwest too, Medical Lake city. What better way to find out the turf about what happened then to go back to the place it all began?

After explaining this to Seliah, she promised she'd try her best to find me home in the area. It took a couple of months, but as always, She was faithful to her words. Soon enough, I was riding in the back of Robert's black SUV, on my way to my new temporary home. So I'd thought.

Never had I imagined that Robert and Beatrice would be the parents I'd waited for my whole life as I started out their car window. I was just a girl on a mission to find the truth, nothing else.

They changed that. Somewhere in the last couple of months, I've accomplished more than I ever thought I would. I've taken chances I never thought I was strong enough too. But most importantly, I've learned to love. A fate I never thought was possible.

What's the point in loving when it's only going to leave you broken in the end?

I'd always thought.

Looking at the happy, concerned faces of all the people that make up my world, the answer is simple:

The one who never loved will always be broken, but the one who does has already started healing. 

°•°•°•°•°The End°•°•°•°•°

Than you so much to all who read this book. This adventure wouldn't have been possible without your help.

I'm aware that there are a few holes in this book. PLEASE, I'm honestly begging, tell me where they are. That will make editing SO much easier.

I WILL BE WRITING AN EPILOGUE!

Thank you always, xxx Liv

DP: May.16.18
WC: 1,534