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“Your mother was on the floor. The cops said she was cold. Her heart was not beating. Blood is pouring out of her extremely fast. Both of your parents were on the road lying by their car. Your father was on the left side and your mother on the right side, both dead. The cops rushed them to the hospital figuring they had to be in a car crash. They couldn’t be saved. Time had run out. You kids had no choice but to be put into a foster home. Monica was three. Joshua was only one. And little Zada, only four months old. No one knew what had happened, until the cops told Monica the next day at the foster home. But I guess instead they told you that your parents died in a car crash.”
I hate staying in this foster home. My idiotic parents got drunk at a party and decided to drive home. And of course, because they were drunk, they got in a car crash. I really miss them. I don’t even know what they look like because I was too young to really remember what they looked like and since they never liked getting their picture taken. So now I am a foster child who doesn’t even know what my own parents look like. Jerks.
Ding Ding Ding! The bell! Someone is here! I rush over to go see who had walked in. I look over the corner very shyly. It was someone I have never seen before! She had short red hair, and she looked pretty young, but not too young. She was wearing a long black coat and high heels. She had makeup on, but not too much to hide her whole face. She sees me and she waves to me. I wave back nervously. Lynda, one of the workers at the foster home, asked me to come meet the person. So I walk over to them.
“Monica,” said Lynda. “This is Janice. She is looking to adopt a little girl. Will you please tell a little bit about yourself to her?”
“My name is Monica. I am eight years old. I love to sing and play games, and I can be very sweet. My vocabulary is quite big for an eight year old because the ladies here have done a magnificent job at teaching me.” I am a very polite girl. The ladies at the foster home taught me to always be polite, or people will never want to adopt me. But Lynda and Janice talked for a little bit, and then she said she wanted me!
“Well if Monica is the girl you want, let’s just slip right into this room here and fill out the adoption papers!” said Lynda excitedly. I am finally leaving! I can’t wait to get out of here!
“Where are you going?” Zada said worriedly. “Are you leaving?”
“Yes. Yes I am. I am leaving the foster home and I am going my separate way to my own life with an adoption mother and father. I will miss you lots Zay. But I know you will be just fine. Someday soon you will find great parents that will love and care for you jus
t like I did.” I said. I was so excited to leave, but Zada start to weep. When I saw her crying, I started to cry too. Leaving my sister was just as bad as seeing Joshua leave us. But out came Janice. She told me it was time to go. I grabbed my things, packed it away in her car, and I gave Zada one more hug before I left. I continuously cried because I was leaving Zada, and now she was the last one I was going to see. This was probably the last time I would get to see her. Just like Joshua. But I got in the car and we drove away.
First Joshua, now Monica. Both my siblings are gone. I am on my own. What am I going to do? All I have left is to stay with the foster ladies. I can’t stop crying because this was probably the last time I am ever going to see Monica and Joshua again. That was probably the last time I was ever going to hear Monica call me “Zay”. This was a terrible moment. And nothing will make me happy. Not even getting adopted. I wish I got to go with Monica or Joshua. Just so I would have at least one of my siblings to look up to.
After being with these people for a few years I finally mean it when I say I hate them! I miss Monica and Zada so much! My parents are terrible to me. They hurt me a lot and never let me do anything. If I even ask them if I can go play outside, they scream “No! Now get in your room right now and don’t come out!” and then they hit me! They even lock my door from the outside so I can’t leave! These people are crazy! And they are always fighting with each other and I always hear screaming and yelling and sometimes I even hear doors slammed shut, cars leaving, and things breaking. And when they fight, they take their anger out on me! Even if I didn’t do anything, they still take it out on me! I hate my parents! They are the worst! I thought that when I got adopted that everything would go great. They seemed so nice when they adopted me. But when I got to their house, they told me to go unpack and then stay in my room. And that night, they started fighting and took their anger out on me.
I miss Zada and Monica. I wonder how they are doing. I wonder if they got adopted and if they did, I wonder what their new parents are like. I miss them so much, I cry about it every single day. Even though Zada got annoying, I still miss her. I miss hearing her cry because Monica yelled some complicated word at her. Monica was always the one to learn big words from all the older kids in the foster home. She was going to teach me some words, but then I got adopted and now I don’t think I will get the chance to learn anything since my parents are terrible! I MISS YOU MONICA AND ZADA! PLEASE SAVE ME! If only I knew where they are now. I would learn to write letters and then send them one. But I guess I will never get that chance.
I love these people so much! My new parents are the best! They always let me do whatever I want. They have already given me everything I ever wanted, and it’s only been a few years! And they even put me in the best school ever! They have the cutest guys, the nicest teachers, and all the best girlfriends ever! Life just keeps getting better and better. And every day I come home from school, my parents say, “Welcome home Honey! We have missed you so much! How was school? I made you your favorite afterschool snack.” These people are the best! I love them! But I am still constantly thinking about Zada and Joshua. I wonder who Zada’s parents are. Did she even get adopted yet? Probably. I want to write her and Iver a letter, but I don’t know where they are. So I am going to call the foster home that we all stayed at to find out where they are so I can write to them because I miss them so much and I want to know how they are doing.
I thought it was funny to grab the phone because whenever we tried grabbing the phone at the foster home, the ladies would get worried that we would call a bad number. And now these people don’t care who I call! So I pick up the phone and I dial the long distance number (because a year after I got adopted, we moved to Florida) and I wait for someone to answer.
“St. Mary’s Foster Care, this is Lynda speaking. How may I help you?” said Lynda.
“Lynda! Hi! It’s Monica! Remember me? My sister and brother’s name was Zada and Joshua.”
“Oh yes! I do remember you! How are you doing, dear?” She sounded very excited. I was so happy that Lynda was the one who answered because she was the only one I really talked to.
“I am doing fantastic! But I called to ask you a question.” I started to sound upset because thinking about them always makes me cry. I don’t even know what they look like right now. So when I write them the letter, I’m going to take picture of myself so they know what I look like. “What is Joshua and Zada’s address? I have missed them terribly and I want to write to them to see how they are doing.”
“Oh that sounds wonderful! Now let’s see,” I could tell she was looking through some kind of book because I heard the opening and closing of a drawer and I heard pages flipping. “Ah, here is Joshua. His address is…” I started to get really excited as she told me Joshua’s address. “…and Zada’s address is…” I started to cry as she told me Zada’s because thinking about her makes me think of all the terrible names I used to call her. I miss her so much and I wish she could have came with me.
“Thank you so much, Lynda! I really do appreciate it.” I thanked her probably seventy times.
“You’re welcome, dear. You take care of yourself! Goodbye.” We both hung up and when we did, I rushed right away to get pencil and paper to start on my letters.
Today is a really special day for me because it’s my birthday. I am now ten years old. And when it’s your birthday, you’re supposed to celebrate it with your family. Well guess who I get to spend it with. My babysitter, Annie. My adoption parents are always too busy for me, so I hardly ever see them. They haven’t even said happy birthday to me yet or made me a card or anything! Nothing! I get nothing on my tenth birthday! I don’t even get to see my parents on my birthday. This is terrible! But spending my birthday with Annie isn’t so bad. Annie’s cool. She took me out to the movies, and we bought lots of snacks, and played games, and went to a restaurant for lunch and dinner, and had lots of fun! But Annie promised me we would get to stay up really late tonight and watch movies and eat lots candy. So we got to go on a field trip to the store.
“Zada, let’s go on a field trip to the store and the post office. I need to check my mail and we can check yours too.” Whenever we go somewhere, Annie says “field trip” instead of car ride. Even though I am seven, I like how she treats me because it makes me feel special.
“Ok Annie! I’ll be down in a minute. I’m gonna go put my sockies on!” I scream. My room is upstairs because my parents don’t like to bother me when I’m sleeping when they get home at night. So they put me upstairs. I hate how I never get to see my adoption parents anymore like I used to the first couple weeks. It’s like I wasn’t even adopted. It seems like I’m still at the foster home except there the adults actually took care of me like real parents at the foster home.
First we went to the store. We walked around and got lots of stuff. Once we left the store, we went to the post office. Annie let me go inside with her. The post office was always so big when I walked in there. It seemed like it was a thousand feet tall. We walked in to the post office, went to Annie’s and my postal box, and grabbed the mail out of both of them. But when she was grabbing the mail out of ours, she told me there was a letter for me.
“Well look at this.” Annie said
“What?” I asked.
“There is a letter for you. It’s from someone with the name Monica. Who is that honey?” Monica?! As in my sister Monica?! Oh my gosh!! How did she get my address?!
“Monica!!!!! That’s my older sister!!”
“You have an older sister?”
“Yes! I’m a foster kid! My parents aren’t my real parents! They are my adoption parents!” I started to cry because that reminded me of how my parents died in their crash.
“Oh my gosh…I’m so sorry Zada.” She seemed upset to see me start to cry because I was adopted.
“It’s ok...What did Monica say?” Annie opened up the letter and started to read out loud what it said.
Dear Joshua, It’s me. Your older sister Monica. I hope you remember me. How are you doing? What are your parents like? I miss you so much! I have been thinking about you and Zada ever since you have been adopted and ever since I have been adopted. And yes, I finally got adopted. I guess Zada got adopted too. I wonder what her parents are like. Have you heard from her yet? Well, I don’t really know what to say but I miss you. My new parents are great! They practically let me do whatever I want. They are crazy nice and just the best parents a girl could ever have. But I still miss mom and dad crazy much. But enough about me. I hope to hear back from you! I miss you little brother! I love you!! Love always, Monica I still don’t know how to write, so it’s going to be hard to tell her how I am. My parents are still the worst. I really miss Monica and Zada. And I want to write a letter to them, but I don’t know how to spell anything. I know my alphabet and I know a little bit about writing, but I can’t spell. But I want to write back. I haven’t talked to them in a while and I miss them more than ever and I want to know how they are doing and I wanted them to know how I am doing. I am going to tell them that my parents suck and that I hate them and I am going to tell them that I wanna be with them. Dear Monika, My parents’ suk. I hat tem. I want 2 come be wit yoo bot and se yoo and Zayda. My parents R always hiting me and kiking me and herting me. I Wis dey wud di. Yoo R lukee yoo hav good parents. I Wis I had good parents. I miss yoo lots and lots and lots and I hop to see yoo soon. PLEEZ SAV ME!! Luv, Joshua That was the best I could write. I don’t know how to write and I feel kind of embarrassed because I don’t even know how to spell my sisters’ names. And the way Monica wrote them in the letter didn’t seem right so I don’t think she knows how to spell the names either. I just hope she understands.
Life was exciting with my parents. They always let me do whatever I wanted to do. When I turned fourteen, the helped me every day to study for my drivers permit. And when I turned sixteen, they bought me a car. Spending all this time with wonderful parents was great. I loved them so much. They were the best parents anyone could ever ask for. But now I’m on my own. I moved out when I left for college at eighteen. I am now twenty-one. My siblings and I have been writing to each other none stop since I found their addresses. Poor Joshua. His parents have been abusing him all this life. I can’t believe all that has happened to him. And by the way he wrote back, I am guessing he might have a minor mental problem because he could hardly spell anything. It’s probably because he was abused too much. Poor guy. But I’m so glad he is still alive. And little Zada. She never got to see her parents because they were always gone. They keep telling me how lucky I was to have the parents I had. But I don’t feel lucky. Getting everything I want isn’t as good as it seems. I don’t feel like a normal child. But I am so excited because since we are all in college and we all have jobs. So we raised enough money to meet up in Seattle for the fourth of July. Which is next week! I get to see my siblings next week! I am so excited! I can’t wait to see them!
Being the youngest means I went to college last. I just turned nineteen and I have been in college for two years. I was very smart in school. I even got to skip eighth grade and go right to being a freshman. It was cool and sad at the same time because I had to leave all my friends. But I still saw them. And I made new older friends too. But leaving them to go to college was really sad and I cried very hard.
Next week I am flying to Seattle to go see my older brother and sister for the Fourth of July. We are all going to stay in Seattle for three weeks so we have lots of time together. I can’t wait. This will be so fun! And the coolest part about it is we have a family friend that lives in Seattle, (which is where we all used to live before the car crash) and she is going to tell us about our parents. I’m so excited to know more about my sister, brother, and even my parents. This will be the best trip ever!
Next week can’t come fast enough. I just turned twenty and college has been a whole lot better than life with my adoption parents. They were terrible. And they didn’t even care that I was leaving for college. When I left, they told me never to come back for leaving them. But I don’t really care. I’m never going to visit those jerks. They treated me like crap and I was sick of it! And when they told me never to come back, I told them, “Oh I promise you, you won’t ever see me again you stupid pieces of…” and then walked away. So now all I am looking forward too is seeing my sisters and meeting that family friend of ours. I guess her name is Isabel or something. But she is going to tell us about our real parents. So I’m hoping they were better than my adoption parents. Heck, anything could be better than what I had to deal with.
Just arriving in Seattle, I am getting super excited. My sister’s flight lands in about an hour and Joshua doesn’t get here for another three hours. So I will get two hours with my baby sis. I can’t wait to see them. But to kill an hour, I go to our hotel to drop off my stuff and then I go grab a bite to eat. The whole time I was eating and dropping off my stuff, I was thinking about what my brother looked like. I am also wondering what Zada looks like. I haven’t gotten a picture of her in a while. The last picture I got from her was when she was just thirteen and she still didn’t even put make up on yet or care enough to make her hair nice and frilly. I wonder if she does that now.
While driving around looking for a restaurant, I find this nice Chinese restaurant. I’m not much of a Chinese kind of person, so I just order some chicken fried rice. And while I’m waiting, I see this boy. He looked about Joshua’s age. He was just sitting there. Bruises on his face, eating the same food I ordered. He looked up at me. I got nervous because I didn’t want him to think I was some kind of stalker for watching him eat. But I notice he continues to stare at me. What’s his problem? Then he gets up out of his seat, and walks over to me. My heart starts pounding. I get more nervous as he slowly walks over to me. What is he going to do?
“Hello...” he said very quietly.
“Um, Hello. Is there something I can help you with sir?” I wanted to sound formal so he would probably forget that I was staring at him for a few minutes.
“Yes.” He said. He started to smile a little bit.
“Ok, um, what can I help you with?” I asked kind of nervously.
“You’re my sister.”
Sitting on this plane for about two and a half hours is really boring. But I find it worth it because I am flying to see my older brother and sister for the first time in years! I haven’t seen a picture of Monica in a while, so I’m excited to see what she looks like now. And I have never seen Joshua since he got adopted when I was one. So I’m excited to see how he turned out. He seems really sweet, but I don’t know him well enough to say he is very sweet. He could be a criminal for all I know. But I don’t think so. I feel pretty bad for him since he had to live a crappy life with terrible parents. Poor guy. But now he has moved out and for the first time in years, he is going to see his sisters again. This is going to be the best moment ever.
“Flight two-zero-seven will be landing in Seattle in approximately twenty minutes.” Monica! Joshua! Oh my goodness this is going to awesome!!!
“You’re my sister.” She gave me blank stare. She looked confused. I was sure it was Monica. It had to be. She sent me a picture of her not too long ago. She couldn’t have changed much. And I saw her perfectly. I know this is Monica.
“Excuse me?” She looked confused.
“You’re name is Monica, right?”
“Yes. Joshua?? Is that you!?” She stood up out of her seat and looked very excited.
“Monica!” I gave her a big hug. She hugged me back very excitedly and told me how happy she was to see me. “Monica! It has been so long! This is incredible! You look amazing sis!”
“I know! It has been too long. And you look better than I thought for having crappy parents. I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I’ve moved out and I’m never visiting those bit—“
“You better not finish that sentence!” She interrupted. I guess she wasn’t the one to cuss.
“Aight, I’m sorry. Well hey, Zada is gonna be here any minute. We better get to the airport.”
Once we get to the airport, we saw this lady. And when she noticed us, she got excited. Was that Isabel?
“Oh Dear! Monica! Joshua! How are you guys? I haven’t seen any of you since….well, since the incident.” Right as she was saying that, we hear our names being called. Zada! She’s here!
“ZADA!!!” Joshua and I both screamed. She ran over to us, and when she got close enough, she dropped her bags and hugged us both. Being together again was a great feeling.
“Oh my goodness! This is awesome! I can’t believe we are all together again!”
“I know!” I said. “This is amazing”
After a while, we all decide to head to Isabel’s house so she could tell us about our parents. Once we got there, we left Joshua and Zada’s luggage in the car and we walked into Isabel’s house. It was a very small house with all kinds of antiques everywhere. Once we walked in, we sat down on the couch, and she served us some meatloaf and started to tell us about our parents.
“So, I just want to hear you opinion, Isabel.” I started off. “How would you describe our parents since the car crash? Like I always thought they were kind of idiotic for—“
“Car crash?” she interrupted. She looked and sounded confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Our parents. They died in a car crash. That’s why we were all separated,” Joshua said.
“Oh no no no. There was no car crash. Where on earth did that come from?”
“That’s what the police told Monica when we were little” Zada said. She started to sound confused.
“Oh my poor dears, your parents didn’t die in a car crash. You see, your mother was under loads of stress from work and then coming home to three screaming kids. And your father used to yell at her for acting terrible from all the stress. So she eventually came to me and told me that she couldn’t take this anymore. And I told her it was alright and that she just need to calm down and she got…very upset by that and stormed out. But I wanted to see if she was alright and I followed her without her knowing, and then I hid behind some bushes to see what was going on. And your father came out of the house, looking madder than ever. He kept screaming at her and yelling and then he started beating her. And finally, I saw her grab a knife from out of the glove box of her car, and then she screamed ‘I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR CRAP!’ and then I saw her plunge her knife into her husband. He fell to the floor slowly. And a minute later, he was dead. And then she screamed ‘ENOUGH!! I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!’ and then I saw her plunge the knife into herself.
She was on the floor. The cops said she was cold. Her heart was not beating. Blood was coming out of her like crazy. Both your parents were on the road lying by their car. Your father on one side, your mother on the other side. Both dead. The cops rushed them to the hospital figuring they had to be in a car crash. They couldn’t be healed. Time had run out. You kids had no choice but to put into a foster home. Monica, being three. Joshua was only one. And little Zada, only four months old. No one knew what had happened, until the cops told Monica the next day at the foster home. But I guess instead, they told her that they got in a car crash.”
All of us were shocked. We couldn’t believe the real story. It was terrible. Our mother went crazy and killed our own father and then committed suicide. I couldn’t believe my ears. If only she had really thought about what to do and got some counseling or some help. Now I take all my comments about my parents back.
“Wow...May I use your bathroom? I want to wash my face,” said Zada. She was upset. Every time she hears about our parents, she gets upset only because she never really got to know what her own parents were like and ever what they looked like. She hadn’t even seen a picture of them.
“Sure dear. It’s over there,” said Isabel.
“Thank you.” She walked over to the bathroom and shut the door. A minute later, Zada walked out of the bathroom, looking a little shocked.
“Monica, can you come help me get something out of my luggage really quick?” She said, giving me a look that said “I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”
“Um, sure. One second, Isabel.” I stood up and walked out side with Zada. “What do you need, Zay?”
“Her bathroom has blood everywhere. Everywhere you look, there is blood. On the floor, the wall, the mirror, everywhere! There are even pictures of people on her wall. Some of the pictures were marked ‘Dead’ and ‘To Kill Next’. I’m not kidding! We gotta get out of here!” She looked scared. So I didn’t think she was joking around. But after talking to her about it for a little bit, we went back into the house. But when we walked in there, Joshua was on the floor, dead. And Isabel was nowhere to be seen.
To Be Continued...