This is just the beginning of a story that I want to write. I want opinions on it please.
|When I was a kid, I dreamed of finding a home. A real home. Not The Kennedy's Home for Unwanted Children. Okay, that's really not Home's name. It's really The Kennedy's Home of Orphaned Children. All of the kids here were either left on the doorstep, left at a hospital, or simply left on the streets. Well, all of the other kids were done that way. I was a peculiar case. My parents brought me here when I was 6. They told the staff and promised me that they'd be back by tomorrow's nightfall. I think that both the staff and I knew what they were saying was a lie, so the next day when they didn't show up by nightfall, I wasn't too surprised. One of the older staff ladies, Mrs. Lyle, took pity on me and, instead of shoving me into the system, she gave me a room to myself and let me ease my way in.
Over the next few years, I got close to the staff, but refused to get close to any of the kids that were in the Home since they didn't stay long anyway. They all met families that either adored them or needed their help at their home. The average stay at the Home was anywhere between seven and thirty days...my stayed lasted 8 years. Don't get me wrong, I had my share of interviews with families, but none of them really wante9 me, you could tell by the look in their eyes. I don't really blame them, I mean, who would want a 6-year-old that could write a college research paper better than their college graduate? Who would want a 9-year-old that talks like a politician? Who would want an 11-year-old that was a freshman in high school? Who would want a 15-year-old that would graduate high school in the spring?
I never let it bother me much, I had made myself at home in my single bedroom. At 15, I had three bookshelves that were crammed with books that ranged from Charles Dickens to Stephen King to Neal Shusterman to Sherilynn Kenyon. I had an entire wall that was covered with posters, photos, and art. I had a closet full of black clothes and drawers with brightly colored skinny jeans. I had no worry in the world. I would graduate high school in the spring at age 15 and then I would attend Hemingweight's University in the fall. I had my entire life planned out. Well, I did until the morning Mrs. Lyle woke me to tell me that I had another family interview that afternoon at 4.