I myself am a foster kid. this is just on of the many stories I have about foster families! I have had 10 of them!
Fourteen and in another foster family; Dave and Anne Bennet. A lot of the homes I had been too had other kids, group homes was what they were called, but Jason and Sara were the first kids that looked up to me. However they didnt look up to me because I set good examples
Anne was the one who worked to provide for the family and I admired her for it. She would work all day everyday at three different jobs while Dave sat at home drinking away his problems. One day Daves drinking got way out of hand. Jason and Sara were playing on the floor next to me, while I did my homework. Then Dave stumbled in. I hated having those two little kids see Dave like that! Jason was only five and Sara three. I tried to get Dave back to his chair in the living room but he started to hit me over and over, fists flying, belt swinging.
That wasnt the first time Dave had come after me but it wasnt the last either. I had learned that by taking Jason and Sara to the neighbors and letting Dave hit me was the only way I could keep the kids safe. I also learned that fighting back just made everything worse.
I remember the fear in the kids eyes every time I took them next door. Sara would cry and cling to my shirt as her brave little brother would grab her hand and tell her everything was going to be okay. Jason was my little hero, my soldier. I love those kids.
But the last time I was too late
Dave was in one of his moods when he ran into the kitchen, grabbed Sara by the neck and threw her against the wall. Jason ran to his sister but Dave grabbed him before I could get him and his sister. I tried so hard to get Jason but Dave had a knife. Finally after minutes of pleading, telling Dave he could have me instead, he dropped Jason. Both kids booked it to the neighbors. That night was spent in the hospital. Dave just wouldnt stop. My entire back was raw from his belt, I had cuts all over my chest and arms, and at one point he twisted my arm until it snapped in three places. I dont even know when I passed out but Anne came home to find Dave out cold in his chair, me on the floor bleeding and the kids at the neighbors. I spent the entire night in the hospital
right next to Sara and Jason. Sara had a broken arm and Jason had a concussion.
The next day Social Services took them away to a better place. I wasnt so lucky. I was happy for them, they needed to be in a better place, but those kids broke my heart that day.
They had just found out they were leaving. Both of them ran up to me, wrapped their arms around me and said, I dont wanna leave without you! Im not afraid to admit that I cried my eyes out for the first time in 8 years and melted as the kids did too, still clinging to my soggy T-shirt.
As they walked down the hall holding the social workers hand I remembered every time they smiled, cried, every time they made me play with them. I even remembered when they each lost their first tooth, lying in bed hoping the tooth fairy had already come