Heres A Excerpt of My Book! Leave Comments! I put my pencil down. My test finished. God knows Im glad Im done. In a small classroom with about five other students in the room with me, I stand to bring my test to the teacher up front. How was it? She asked. Easier than I thought. I replied. Well, Ms. Johnson, your test results will come in about a week. You will receive our results in the mail, letting you know if you got accepted in our school or not. The teacher gets up and walks me to the door. I smile at her and walk out the door. Sheila, my foster mother, stands from where she was sitting. I walk over towards her and together we walk out the school door. I hope I did well. I said when we got in the car. No response. I stare down at my fingers. I hate when she doesnt answer me. I miss my real parents, whoever they are. I dont even know what they look like. In my head, I have this image of them being these picture perfect parents. The only thing that bothers me is when I dream of them, their faces are blurry. I dont know why but it is. When I ask Shelia about my parents, she always so negative about them. I dont listen to her anyways. They cant be that bad, right? I look out the window, day dreaming of my mom and dad. We pull up to our house. We live on a dead end street where it’s quiet during the day and hear sirens from police at night. I hate living in this house, with this lady. I think she doesnt like me. Doesnt really matter to me anyway, Im probably not going to be here too long. Ive never stay with these foster parents longer than six months. I grew accustomed to just keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. Like my own little bubble. Keeps me safe. Makes me feel like someone does want me and who would appreciate a child like myself. I guess you could say Im my own parent, just in a 13 year old body. As I climb out the car and head towards the door, I nearly get knocked down from my baby brother Travis. “Hi, sissy. He says, grabbing my hand and walking with me in the house. Hey Travis. How was school? I ask. He stops walking and plays with his fingers. Whats wrong? I didnt go. How? I seen you leave this morning. I walked around the corner and when I seen yall leave, I came back home. Why would you go off and do something like? Cause she didnt give me money to eat again. I stare at my brother then over to Sheila, who was on the phone talking to one of her gossiping friend. I hate her friend to. Always talking about some body. You know the kind of people that sit on they porch being in everybody else business, yup, thats them. I turn back to my brother. Are you hungry now? No. Travis, you have to eat. Your nothing but skin and bones. I walk in the kitchen to make him a quick peanut butter and jelly. Sheila walks in. Oh God, please dont let this lady say anything to me, i say over and over in my head. Hold on girl. Nicki, what you doing? Making Travis a sandwich. You forgot to give him money for school. I simply say. Thats his fault. If he was that hungry he would remind me to give him money for school. Matter of fact, the money I get for both of yall isnt enough to pay for school lunch. She snaps, moving her neck with every word. I just continue to put the peanut butter on one of the breads. Im not on the mood to argue with her. It’s pointless. She thinks nobody knows what she really does with the money she gets for us. I look over to the living room and call Travis to the kitchen. He walks in but stops once he sees Sheila. Im not hungry Nicki. Come on Travis, you got to eat. Here. I hand him the sandwich and walk out the kitchen. I go up to my room so i can be by myself. I go to the only window i have in my room and stare out at all the kids playing and laughing. Some girls around my age are out jumping rope. Still standing near the window, i got on my knees and starting praying, Hey, its me Nicki, but you know that. I just want to say please give me the strength for both my brother and me. Protect us from those who try and harm us -, I stop and run towards my door. I heard yelling, then a hard smack. Like someone hitting a floor. I run down stairs to find Travis curled up on the floor and Sheila standing over him. What happened? I manage to say, while helping my brother off the floor. I start to examine his face. He was starting to bleed from his eye brow and it was starting to puff. I told him to go wash the blood away, pointing towards the bathroom. It was a small cut, but I had enough of Sheila putting her hands on us. This nigga decides he doesnt want the crust on his bread. Sheila said yelling. Are you serious? I say, before even thinking about it. Yea, you always saving him, who gunna save you. Dont no body want yall. If they did, yall would be there and not here. So you must gunna take his ass whooping. Yelled Sheila. I didnt say anything, I just stood there. Id rather her hit on me then hit on my brother. Travis came out the bathroom and Sheila grabbed the iron off the counter. I ran in between them. Go up stairs Travis. I tell him. Hes scared and doesnt move. I turn to Sheila. Yeah, Ill take his whooping. Sheila pushed Travis out the way, so that she was behind me. I was to scared to move so i just stood there. She wrapped the cord around her hand, so it looked like she was holding a belt. The other hand was holding the iron. I felt the sting of the cord hit my back, i instantly fell to the floor. Now Im on the floor screaming and crying, taking hit after hit from this thick cord. I hear the painful cry from Travis, watching me as I curl up in a ball and cover my face. The cord hits my left arm and i think she broke skin. Im in to much pain to look. Then i feel nothing. I feel numb. As I lay there, Sheila walks passed me. I continue to lay on the cold kitchen floor. What 13 year old felt like dying? Yup, that would be me. My head feels heavy when i wake. Im in my room. Howd i get here ? I try moving, but the marks left by the cord doesnt agree with me. Gently, I drag my fingers up and down my left arm. It stings touching my own skin. Tears began to flow down my cheek. Is this what my life consist of ? Getting hit for no reason. Probably Sheila is right? Maybe no one doesnt want me. I hate when shes right. I want to know what it feels like to be wanted. With little energy I do have, I grab my pillow, hugging it very tightly and drift back to sleep, dreaming of strong parents with blurry faces. ™ Copy right 2013
Posted on: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 23:55:46 +0000
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