It’s cold. Sleeping at night here is like sleeping in Alaska. How did I even get assigned to this place? My foster mother is a horrible care taker. I remember her telling me that if I told my social worker what she has been doing to me they would just take me to an even worse place. I rather not make that sacrifice. If there’s another place that’s worse than here, I’m not taking that risk.



I learned a lot of here though. Probably more than I would ever learn anywhere else. These girls I live with are no joke. Key things I’ve learned so far is that if you make just one bad move they will completely screw you over. I remember when I first came to this place when I was 7 years old, I spilled a cup of orange juice over Amanda’s pants. She slapped me right across the face and called me a stupid ass b****. Then she pushed me on the floor and threatened to bust my eye open if I ever spilled something on her ever again. She was about 3 years older than me but age didn’t seem to matter over here. I see little five year olds getting beat by 15 year olds and mothers yelling and hitting the younger ones when a fight broke up. For some reason, everybody liked to pick on me the most. Just because I was the most recent person that had come to this foster home. When I first stepped into this house, I knew that I was up for a challenge.



I walked into the kitchen and seen Carol and Amanda making cookies.



“What’s there to eat?” I asked.



“Nothing. She’s out somewhere. She never thinks about stopping by and getting anything for us to eat.” Amanda said, mixing up with cookie dough. I knew what she meant. My foster mother have been going out day and night with her new boyfriend. Lately, she’s been leaving all of us in the dust and been expecting us to find ways to feed ourselves. There were some days I remember where I haven’t had anything to eat all day.
“So me and Amanda went out and bought some cookies to bake. Do you want some?”
“Sure!” I said. Amanda quickly grabbed a handful of cooking powder and flinged it all over my clothes.
“Here, go bake your own cookies, b****,” Amanda and Carol started giggling.
The things I go through in this house just becomes much of a routine. There isn’t even anything to be surprised or shocked about anymore when girls here do something mean like that. I can feel the anger build up of how fed up I was about Amanda but I held my cool.”
“I will, thank you,” I said sarcastically, biting the inside of my cheek. I walked away and showed no anger or emotion towards those girls. When I got in my room and shut the door and opened my dresser frantically.
“I hate her,” I said to myself. “Out of everybody why does she have to pick on me? Bullshit.” I ripped my powdered clothes off and threw them on the ground. I just wore anything else I could find in my closet. What is there to do, I thought. I knew that I couldn’t just let her bully be all the time like this. I couldn’t let anything keep bullying me like this. Deep down I knew it wasn’t right but I was scared. I was scared that if I went over to the other side, it would just be worse.

Next morning I woke up to the worse scream ever. My heartbeat started thumping drastically like I had opened my eyes to a frantic nightmare. What was that scream? Who was it? Where did it come from? I hopped out my bed and opened my door. I heard somebody crying so I followed the sound.

Tritiany. She was balling her eyes out on the living room floor, pressing her arm against her angle.

“What happened?” I said. Tritiany tried to stop herself from crying to she can make up her words.

“Amanda broke my ankle,” she said wiping her tears. She was probably exaggerating. You know how little kids are, they overthink about everything bad that happens. She showed me her ankle. When I tried to touch it she screamed. “Stop! It hurts. I can’t move it.” She said.

“Sorry,” I picked her up gently and put her on the couch. “Everything is going to be alright,” I said, trying to comfort her and ooz her pain.

Soon after, my foster mother open the from her. Her loosen shirt and skinny jeans were worn out and dirty. Looks like shes been wearing that for a week. When she walked in she didn’t even notice me or Tritany. She was busy talking on the phone.

“Oh alright…yeah I’m home now…thanks you too…” Tritany’s cry caught her attention.

“Can you shut up for once?” She said.

“I think she sprained her ankle,” I quickly said before she was back on the phone.

“From what?” she demanded. “Ugh, you guys really erk my… I’ll have to call you back John…alright…bye.”

“Amanda kept kicking me and stepping on my ankle,” Tritany pouted. “For no reason. I was just watching tv. After that, she stormed out the house,”

Mother took a look at Tritiany’s swollen ankle. From the look on her face I knew that she wasn’t gonna be happen.

“Oooo, that little girl is gonna get it. Just watch,” she turned to me. “And where the hell were you? How much you didn’t do s*** to stop it?”

“I-I was still aslee—“

“Oh shut the hell up. You are worthless. See look, now I gotta go and take her to the hospital to check her out!”

Of course, It was always blamed on me. Just blame it on Ellie. Everything on Ellie. I kept quiet. I knew arguing with this women wouldn’t get nowhere. She always wins. Always have always will.

While my foster mom and Tritiany went to the hospital. I had to stay at home and clean every room up for my punishment. I didn’t even do anything. I thought. If anybody, Amanda should be blamed. Her and her group of girls are always starting things in this house and I am sick and tired of taking their blame.

Spray, wipe, clean, repeat. Spray, wipe, clean, repeat. As I washed the windows I noticed the things happening outside my window. Laugher, girls with handsome looking boyfriends, the sun shining and real smiles forming. I can’t remember when was the last time I was really happy. Can’t remember my last crush and the feeling of it. I never had a boyfriend, I never had real friends I can hang out with and had a good time. I didn’t have anything.

Ashamed and frustrated, I heard footsteps behind me. Didn’t really feel like turning about and finding about a horrible surprise. What’s new?

“Boo!” The person behind me said. I turn around slowly. Great. One of Amanda’s friends. “Awh, guess I didn’t scare you,” she said.

What did she want? I thought. She wore nice red PINK brand pants with a white v-neck. Always dressed nice. I sometimes wonder how knowing that our foster mother rarely gives us money for anything at all.

“So…what did she say?” she asked.

“About what?”

“You know, about the whole Tritiany thing.”

Of course. I thought. Amanda probably sent her here to come talk to me.

“She’s pretty mad,” I said. “ but she took her to the hospital to check her out and hopefully Tritiany will be alright.”

“Oh no, we aren’t worried about Tritiany,” she said quickly. “Were worried about you and our so called mother,”

Lies. “Amanda only did that to see if mom would actually care to noticed,” Lies again. “And we’ve been thinking. You’re a smart, young girl. Nobody don’t got to treat you like this. I mean out of all people, Amanda should be the one doing all of this cleaning and punishment stuff.”

I didn’t say a word. I just kept cleaning. She wanted me to agree with her. She wanted me to come out and say something rude about Amanda so she would have a much better reason to hit me, too hurt me, or probably even be the reason to probably end up killing me.