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Stereotypes In Foster Care Essay

You know how people say the truth hurts. When you lie you are shooting a bullet at the person you lie to. Your stabbing them in the back repeatedly. I guess I got too hung up on their good things I didn’t recognize the things they did wrong. She promised she would stop and that everything was going to be alright. She lied. She didn’t stop. They didn’t stop so somebody had to stop them. My mom, I love her because even though it feels right to hate her, I can’t, she gets to me every time. She changed, but not for the better.

My mom transformed my trust towards people. It was April 9th, 2013, a sunny beautiful Tuesday and something just had to go wrong and ruin the rest of my life. It didn’t start this day, it started months before. It all began at school. These people came in nice clothes, fancy cars, and a whole lot of questions. They came regularly and pulled me out of class to ask me simple questions that I answered with the truth. After this started happening my mom and stepdad started fighting. They weren’t having little arguments it was constant yelling about irrelevant things.

These fights always resulted in someone in rage, and someone leaving. It happened so frequently that sometimes I wouldn’t see my mom for a couple days. If it was a bad fight then my mom would leave and take my sister and I with her to a hotel. No matter what, they always forgave each other. I think my parents forgot that they had to actually care for their children because we barely had food and if we did it was junk food that my mom had stolen. My mom was good at shoplifting and I was sometimes with her when she did it.

On that Tuesday in April when I was in fourth grade everything was thrown away and transformed into something ugly. Everything I knew about my parents was a lie. The phone rang and the whole class stopped talking so Ms. Kelly could answer it. The phone call was sweet and short and the only reason the office called was for me. They were just letting me know that I needed to walk home with my cousin Elijah. I wondered why, but I didn’t let it crowd my thoughts the rest of the day. The school hours went by rapidly and soon I was on my way to my Aunt Becky’s house.

She already had my younger brother and sister and when we got there everything seemed normal until she got a phone call and told us to stay in her room. We assumed that it was just a business phone call and she needed peace and quiet. She was on the phone for 20 minutes and then she called Maria and I to her living room. By then my mind was buzzing with curiosity. Why did she want to talk to us? Why was my parent’s’ car in her driveway? Where were my parents? Why were we at her house? Her eyes were filled with tears and at first it seemed difficult for her to talk.

A tear fell from her eyes and she finally said something. The moment she told us that we were getting removed from my parents’ house was when my whole world came crashing down. At first I was numb, but then the pain came crashing over me like a wave. My parents’ couldn’t come and get their car because my aunt didn’t want to cause trouble, and the fact that they had six police cars on the street making sure they didn’t come. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion and my whole body was aching with hurt as I choked back tears.

On this day I knew I couldn’t trust anybody as easily as I trusted them before. Red, blue, white lights flooded my field of vision until we drove away from the street. We went in a van with a complete stranger who told us everything that was going on, but yet I was still confused. I had a pounding headache that felt like I was getting it in the head with a rock over and over. I was in emotional pain and it hurt to talk because I was trying so hard to swallow my tears, but they didn’t want to go down my throat so I choked on them. My brain was on overload from confusion to anger to agony.

I was surprised I didn’t forget how to walk because I was trying to forget everything so the pain would go away. I tried in the car ride, but once we stepped foot through my grandparents’ house and when I saw the picture of our family it felt like a hurricane. I cried an ocean on that Tuesday, but the days following I had no more tears, just a burning pain in my chest and my throat. The following days, weeks, months, and years I put on a smile. People only want to see happiness, not a gloomy person who is heartbroken and dreading every second of life.

People need to see the truth not a boldface lie. Someone told me multiple times that there are multiple stages of grief that everybody has to go through and it brings sorrow and rage, but in the end you will reach peace of mind. Everybody at some point in life has to put on a mask to hide something. I had to put on a mask so people would just leave me alone and not ask me if I’m okay. I wasn’t okay, and there was only one person that I kept up to date with my life. This person was magnificent, she was everything I ever wanted and more than I needed.

Emily was the only person that would see me without my mask. She knows my secrets and weaknesses. Emily has changed my life and helped me change hers. She was the only person who understood my misery and mourning. Foster care is the raising or supervision of foster children, as orphans or delinquents, in an institution, group home, or private home, usually arranged through a government or social-service agency that provides remuneration for expenses. That is the definition of foster care from a dictionary.

My definition is different. When you’re in foster care you start to appreciate things a little bit more in life and you realize that not everybody can have elegant things. It has been three years, six months, and twelve days since April ninth, 2013. That Tuesday, my life was changed, but not for the better. 1,291 days ago I found out that my parents lied to me, they have lied to me my whole life and I didn’t comprehend it until three and a half years ago. Throughout those years they said that they were going to get us back.

Two years ago my mom had Rocco, my youngest brother, him and Brody were born into foster care. My parents said that everything was going to be all right, but they lied. All six of us are getting adopted at some point in our lives before we turn 18. My mom is in a place where she is meant to be. Nobody knows where my stepdad is and I really don’t care. For three years I have been waiting for a fresh start in life. To go to a new house to a new family to start and advanced life. I don’t want to see my parents until I’m ready whether that means in a couple years or when I’m a parent.

My trust towards my parents is low and will always be low, they can’t change that, but no matter what, I still love them. Trust is not a given, it’s a prize for anyone to earn. You have to work for it and that’s something my parents can’t do. If you want something deeply you must work for it like it’s the air that fills your lungs and the water that satisfies your thirst, you have to treat it like it’s your life on earth. Your word is your bond with people even if it’s just a little lie remember a half-truth is a whole lie.

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