Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Stacey taps me on the head and gives me a pointed look. “Don’t you roll your eyes.”
“Don’t you tell me how to live my life,” I retort and stand. “Melody, I ain’t lucky. Give it a week or two and these people will never come back.”
Melody’s smile fades and she looks at Stacey for comfort. “She doesn’t want them. Can I have them?”
“Oh sweetie,” Stacey utters, and they hug it out.
I puff out my cheeks and glower at myself in the mirror. Thick brown hair, weird blue eyes, no front teeth so I can stick my tongue through them. All the girls my age lost their front teeth ages ago, Stacey tells me I’m just a late bloomer and there ain’t nothing wrong with that. She doesn’t see this face in the mirror every day.
“Just remember,” Stacey utters after ushering Melody from the room. She places her hands on my shoulders and I frown at her nails. I don’t like nail biting. It’s a nasty habit. “It’s not their fault that they didn’t get to keep you. Just like it’s not your fault. And they’re your momma and daddy, they’re gonna have loved you before they ever got to meet you. Let them have that. Let them be affectionate. Let them give you that love and then maybe one day, and hopefully soon, you’ll trust them enough to love them back in return.”
I don’t say anything, I just nod and let her guide me out of the bedroom with her hands still on my shoulders.
It has been a month since that cop man and my social worker, David, both sat me down and told me about them. Feels a lot less.
I thought they’d have given up by now but I guess they’ve gotta see me first. When they see me and when they see I’m not lovable, they’ll leave. That’s what happened before… twice… and that’s what will happen again. I ain’t holding my breath.
“You ready?” Stacey asks, pulling up my grey leggings and pulling down my pink top. It has a unicorn on it that changes color depending which way you smooth the sequins. When I said to my teacher that this type of top was made by men as an excuse to touch the chests of little girls, I had to go see my therapist again but I thought I had a good point.
My therapist thought it was funny, so did Stacey. They both say I’m a very witty and switched on kid. I don’t know what that means, so long as they don’t think I’m deluded.
As we approach the door of the meeting lounge, a special room designed for moments like this, I can hear them whispering inside and my heart starts beating so hard in my chest. They’re going to hate me. They’re going to take one look at me and hate me. Or worse, they’re going to love me like a new kitty and then get rid of me when they lose interest. That’s why I’m here. That’s also why we have the fuzzy cat that used to live three doors down the street.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be here. This ain’t fair. I don’t want to go through this again.
I stop and Stacey hits my back and we both almost fall.
“No,” I say, pulling away but she grabs my arm. “No no no!”
“Connie,” Stacey implores. “They drove all this way.”
“Then they can drive all that way back!” I shout, pulling away but she grips me harder. I beat on her arm with my fist, breath coming out in pants. “LET GO OF ME!”
I kick her in the shin so hard she releases me and shouts the word caterpillar instead of a real swear. Then I bolt, letting my legs carry me to the front door but David appears and grabs me around the middle.
“Connie,” he admonishes as I punch and kick at every part of him I can.
“I DON’T WANT TO!” I screech, tears burning my cheeks. “I DON’T! LET ME GO! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”
“Let her go, Jesus H Christ,” shouts the biggest man I ever saw. David drops me on the ground and I look up at the man with long hair and tattoos peeking over his white button up. “Forcing her ain’t gonna help none!”
“Kane,” the woman standing slightly behind him to his right whispers. She has really pretty, really kind eyes.
“I was just stopping her from bolting,” David assures him, grabbing my arm again and helping me to my feet. “Connie, you good?”
I sniffle and dry my face on my arm. “Let go of me.”
“She looks just like you,” the woman whispers to the big man and he grins this weird grin that makes her grin. They’re both crazy people.
I’m pretty sure I have the same eyes as him though. Does that mean I’ll be giant too? Maybe then I can stomp on everyone and everything in my big boots like the ones he’s wearing.