Chapter 1
“Jade Foster?” The teacher calls my name from the register as she glances around the room. As if it weren’t bad enough that I am in foster care, my name had to show it too. Rumours were travelling throughout the school about my biological parents; some say they were abusive, others say that I was an accident. I never knew, and anytime my questions came to light, they were snuffed out.
“Here,” my voice was barely a squeak amongst the rest of my class, which was causing chaos around me. A blonde-haired boy is throwing paper at a girl seated at her desk behind me, and another student is arguing with someone on their phone. The whole class is uncontrolled, as usual.
Everyone has friends, but me. Well, the girl behind me isn’t popular either, but she never has to sit alone, at least. I tried to play nicely; I even offered to share my dolls with some girls in my class when we were in primary 4. 10 years later, and I can still see them ripping my toys apart as they laugh and throw the broken parts at me.
I had hoped that when secondary school came, I would be safe from their bullying. Just another dream that will never become my reality because they applied for the same school and were assigned to the same classes as me. Their mocking wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that the only thing they can pick on me for is my living situation. There’s a lot of stigma surrounding young people in the care system; we’re assumed to be the most troublesome. Just because we aren’t with our biological families, we must be different.
Finally, my torture comes to an end as the school bell rings, my cue to run the hell out of here. Snatching my backpack up from underneath my desk, I throw one foot in front of the other as fast as I can to be the first one out. The halls are pretty plain, with white walls, random posters some of us created and of course, fire exit signs. Adults expect us to come to school when it looks like a damn prison. Why would we be happy to attend somewhere that’s horrible to be in?
