A rue story

destinyrules1

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A short True Story

The bell rang. It was 3rd period. I was always thinking, would my life be useless and sad forever? I packed my books and went to Mr. G. My 4th period teacher. His class was boring, but all the classes were too. Everyday, I sit in my desk and think about my crappy life. I don’t listen to my teachers talking about dumb stuff I wouldn’t even care about. I hated everyone. I hated everything. But there was only one person that I really cared about. Rachael Fox. She was the prettiest girl I have ever seen. I have never admired any girl like her. She was smart, nice, and very talented. She had long light brown hair, with very nice green eyes. To me, she was my life. She is very cute. Unlike me. I have brown shaggy hair that could never be straight, and light brown eyes. I always thought of my self very ugly. And I am. Rachael all ready has a boy, who was Ryan. He had blonde hair, blue eyes. His hair was very straight, unlike mines. Out of my all 14years of life, I have never met anyone who related to me. Who hated everything? Who always wanted a mom and dad? My mom and dad died in an airplane crash to England. I was only 3 years old. These hate full couple adopted me. The foster home had no idea that I was being verbally and physically abused. I thought they would be nice. But I was stupid for thinking that. After I turned 10, I ran away from the couple. I went to a church and stayed there for 2 years. When I was 12, they told me I was too old to live in the church. So they once again, dropped me in a foster home. No one has adopted me since then. Every time some one came to adopt me, I would just act very rude, just so no one would adopt me. After 4th period, I decided to skip 5th period. I sat in the bathroom hall. Just hating myself, and my life. I think I might have even fallen asleep. I was tired. I never came to school early. NEVER. I always came late. The foster people aren’t mean though. It’s the kids. While I’m trying to sleep, the kids are physically and verbally killing each other. They come in my room, and kids go on my bed as if it’s a wrestling match. They don’t know that I’m in the bed trying to get out, trying to not get killed by a 3year old, and a 15 year old. No matter how old you are, your going to get hurt. Last year, a 12-year-old girl killed a 4year old boy, by throwing a brick at his head. This foster home was prison. I overslept in the middle of 6th period. So I stayed in the bathroom again. When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff, and went to 7th period. On my way there, I saw Rachael crying. She looked at me, in sad but yet, pretty eyes. I didn’t know what to do or say. So I just looked at her for a while and left. When I turned around to see what she was doing, she just walked slowly into the 9th grade building, still crying, with her hands in her face. For a moment, I felt angry. And I found out why. Why wasn’t Ryan there to protect her? Isn’t that how girlfriends and boyfriends do today? Was I missing something? When I got to 7th period, the door was shut. I looked throw the window, and saw boys and girls sticking the finger at me. I walked away, heading back to the bathroom. Chapter 2 One of the lame teachers found out that I was skipping. I got a referral. I didn’t really care. But what really caught my attention was the fact that I saw Rachael in the guidance. I stood outside the door of the guidance room. I waited till the guidance teacher came out. Once she came out, I quickly and quietly ran into the guidance room. Rachael was sitting on the chair, holding a couple of tissues and still sniffing. “What are you doing here?” Asked Rachael. “I-I… just wanted to find my key from my foster home.” I said kind of nervously. Rachael looked at me suspiciously. Then said, “Why didn’t you protect me?” “Huh?” I said looking around the room to see if there’s anyone else here. “Max, you were there. Brittney and some other girls were beating me up. You were in the bathroom with your head on your knees. I know you herd the fight.” I knew what she was talking about. But I was asleep. “I was asleep,” I said. Rachael stood up from her seat and said, “Max. I know you weren’t. I thought you were my friend. Or at least… far friend.” Rachael walked out the door, or at least, was about to. “Ryan didn’t help you.” I said, looking down at my knees. Rachael slammed the door hard. I sat there. Thinking what the hell is this about? How does she know my name? And, what did she mean by friend? Or far friend? Chapter 3 When I got to my foster home, one of the 9-year-old girls, and a 13 year old boy were fighting. The girl, Maxine, was holding a hammer. The boy, Robert, had a knife in one of his hands. Maxine was repeatedly using the hammer by hitting Robert in the leg. In the other hand, Robert was stabbing Maxine in the stomach, but she kept on hitting. After a while, they both fell to the ground. They were lying on top of blood. I walked away. I wanted to leave this place. But I had nowhere to live. Today’s Friday, so most of the kids were somewhere else, doing drugs, smoking, and killing. I once tried drugs. I got addicted to it. But I couldn’t take anymore. So I went to the doctors. They gave me pills to get un addicted to the drugs. It worked. But the pills made me vomit. They also made me have random bruises. I sat in my room, watching more kids kill each other. I was thinking something. If I hated everything, would life be better in heaven? Half my heart told me suicide and the rest told me, NO. Chapter 4 Today is Saturday. And my back hurts because a 7-year-old kid with autism hit me hard with a fork in the back. I passed out for a while. Then I found out it was Saturday. I decided to leave the foster home for a little bit. I went to the drug store to buy drowsy pills. I wasn’t sure if I was going to use them, but I knew sometime I would use them. I rode my bike to Rachael’s house. I saw her throw the window. She was in a long ponytail, and her sunglasses were on. She was wearing a taint top, and extremely short shorts. She was coming out of the house with her parents. She had a tennis racket in her hand. She looked happy. Her and her parents were laughing and talking about her when she was little. They didn’t notice that I was in there drive way. When they walked away, I rode my bike to Ryan’s house. Before I came into his driveway, I had already seen him. But he wasn’t alone. He was holding hands with Brittney. They were dressed as if they were going to the gym. Brittney had had short golden orange hair. Her eyes were sky blue. She had a lot of freckles. I didn’t like her. But Ryan seems to. I didn’t want to tell Rachael for some reasons. One, Ryan would kill me. And two, I didn’t want Rachael to be any more sadder than she was on Thursday. When I was riding my bike back to the foster home, some of these gangsters were messing with me. They took my bike away, and now I feel beaten up. So I was riding my bike down the streets, and six guys with their pants way below there butt came towards me. “ Looks like we have a little sissy to steal from!” said one of them with a leaf in his mouth. I sat there. Looking like a little 3 year old. Scared. “Yea, we go nah take you bike!” said the one with braces, and a cigarette in his mouth. I still sat there. They all at once pushed me off. I fell on the concrete floor. My head bounced of the floor. For a second, I could only hear my heart beat. One of them picked me up the floor, and started punching me. I think even all of them started kicking me. Then, after a point, I body just felt numb. After some more kicking and punching, they let me go. I then again fell to the floor hard. I might have passed out. Or fell asleep. After a little bit, I woke up. I was in front of the store I had gotten beaten up by. So that’s how I had my bike stolen. I literally limped to the foster care. I couldn’t feel anything on my body. Chapter 5 Its Sunday. And I again saw Ryan and Brittney together. I had nothing to do. I mean, what could I do? I live in a foster care prison. No TV. No games. No toys. No crayons or paper. No nothing. All there were was the couch, and 25 beds for each kid. All we had in the refrigerator were two cups of expired yogurt, 5 bottles of warm water, melted vanilla ice cream, and one wooden spoon. How do I live like this? Well, when I got to go pee or poop, I go outside. When I got to take a shower, I go to the hose. Where do I get the clothes? I get it at a free garage sale that kind of never ends. Where do I get food? I beg random people for money to buy food. My life is like a hobo’s life actually. I got SO bored that I had decided to go to the doctors. Why? Because I was bored, I was kind of loopy, and I had pain everywhere. When I came in the doctor’s waiting/ signing room, I asked for an appointment. TODAY. NOW. I said serious. The nurse said all right. I sat done the chair. I fell asleep and had the worse dream ever. I had been dead and my mom and dad had ditched me in heaven. When the doctor called me, he asked what was the problem. “I had been beaten. I need you to help me feel better,” I said in a cool voice. “OK but I’m going to have to check you.” He said writing in his clipboard. I sat on the bed, and made some crumbling noise with the paper. It irritated me some how. The doctor weighed me, checked my height, and took off my clothes to examine me. “ Well your all done. Come back tomorrow to check your results.” He said putting his glasses back on. I looked at him as if he were a retard. “Sir, I came here TODAY to check my results TODAY!” I said eating his desk in anger. But, it was too late now. He had called security. “Kid, I said come back tomorrow. Got it?” He said looking at me when the securities dragged me out the door. Chapter 6 Today was finally Monday. I didn’t want to go to school. So I didn’t go. I went to the doctors, yet still limping. “Ah, Your here, take a sit. We need to talk,” Said the doctor when I got in his office. “ Your currently in the weakest shape. To be honest, I didn’t want to say this but…” he didn’t go on. “WHAT?” I said scared. He sighed. “You’re dying.” When those words came out of his mouth, I felt like passing out. “Your in a real bad condition. I think your even getting cancer.” He said with sort of sad puppy eyes. “Cancer? Me? What? How?” I said confused.