Even though this wasn’t her first time running away from a foster home, Emma was still nervous.
When she was a baby, she had been left in the woods. A young boy had found her and took her to a hospital where they brought her to an adoption agency, and there they found three polyamorous people to foster her for a while. She was there six months before it was time to send her back.
Another time when she was seven, she stayed with a family who had two devilish twins. They teased her so much that she eventually packed her backpack with simple life necessities, ran out the door and didn't look back.
Now, she was thirteen, and she was staying at a home with eight other foster kids. There was Mary, there was Nick, and Jamie, Scooter, Bobby, Fern, Frannie, and Amber.
Emma was friendly with Mary, but they weren’t close. She never got close to anyone; she knew that the closest people in her life would just disappoint her. Her parents had taught her that. Sylvie had taught her that.
The foster mother was named Angela. She was a tall, thin woman with hair so blonde it was almost white. Even though she would never adm, Emma was Angela's favorite out of all the kids. Emma was sweet, but she wasn’t afraid to give some sass if needed.
Angela had become a foster caretaker because she knew what it was like to lose family. She once had two sisters that she was very close with. Their names were Greta and Hannah. One day Hannah just disappeared, and no one knows what happened to her. Greta had died in a massive car crash.
The reason Emma kept running away was that no matter where she was, or how long she stayed there, no place ever felt like it was home. (She didn’t know what ‘home’ felt like, but she was sure when she felt it she would know.)
Emma had been at Angela’s foster home for only two months, but enough was enough. After she was sure the members of the house were long past asleep, Emma quietly and slowly opened her bedroom door. Emma shared the bedroom with Mary, Amber and Fern
Mary had long wavy hair that was as black as the night sky. She had skin as white as a pee-free pile of snow and lips as red as blood.
Amber had chocolate-colored skin and a short bob that she liked to tuck behind her ears.
Fern was a short girl with electric orange hair and forest green eyes.
It was trickier for Emma to sneak out of a room if there were other people in it, but she managed. She went out in the hallway where all the additional bedrooms intersected, she tiptoed down the stairs which were, unfortunately, creaking as she walked down them.
When she got to the front of the house she stopped walking for a moment. She asked the question she had asked a million times before, why had her parents abandoned her? Did they dislike her so much that they wanted to leave her without a father or a mother? What would her parents say if they were here with her right now? Would they want her to run away? No, they wouldn’t, Emma decided.
Red-hot anger surged through her. It didn’t matter what her parents thought. Apparently, she didn’t even matter. Her parents had just tossed her aside like a squashed cardboard box. Emma opened the backpack she was carrying and made sure she had everything she needed.
A change of clothes? Check.
The wad of bills she had stolen from Angela when she wasn’t looking? Check.
Emma walked to the front door and quietly opened it. She took a deep breath and walked into the cool night air.