End to Begin

    I’ve lived in dozens of houses. Some were homes. Others were not. None of them were my home. Sometimes I think I’ll never have one.

    “Stue!” screeched my foster parent in a drunken, cracking voice.

    I knew the consequences of the sound too well, but I went. Rising from the floor of our ten-by-ten-foot bedroom where I was helping Kate and Karl with their homework, I calmly walked out of our paint peeling room. When I reached the door, I looked back into our room with its two bunkbeds wedged in a corner. Of course, Jenell’s bed was undisturbed since she typically found a guy to spend the night high with. Hesitantly, I shuffled into the living room. The stench overwhelmed me. Empty beer bottles and subpar humane hygiene permeated the room. Without an ounce of sunlight filtering in, the room embodied its nickname. The Lion’s Den should be a terrifying place. Maybe ours was, but I couldn’t let it scare me.

    “What took you so long, girl?” slurred out Brent in-between draws of his Bud Light. A growing trickle of beer soaked his beard and dripped onto his five-day-old t-shirt.

    “You got something on --” I started.

    With another swig from his bottle, Brent spat cheap beer at my face and asked in a low register, “What did you say?”

    Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the bait, but I did.

    “I said the crap you’re guzzling down is spilling all over your disgusting freakin’ beard cause you don’t wanna think about what a loser your dumb a ---”

    Immediately, he cut me off by grabbing my staple slicked back ponytail and bringing my face inches away from his. “Girl,” he growled out. His horrendous breath clouded around my face. “You better watch your mouth.”

    “Or what, hon?” I leveled with him despite every fiber of my being screaming no. I wanted to run. I’d run away before, but I had to stay now for Kate and Karl. If I wasn’t here, the hand flying towards me would find its mark on one of them.

    He must have been extremely drunk. Typically, he’d hit me in places hidden by my clothes. Today, though, his palm came down on my eye first, and then, he busted my lip. When the blood burst out, I closed my eyes and remembered so much worse. Opening my eyes again, I found myself on the floor where he’d thrown me by the hair. Then, it was over.

    “Pack your things,” he ordered gruffly.

    I stared at the evil smile growing across his face.

    “Someone hid some Brown Rhine in your room, Golden Girl,” he continued slyly. “We both know who it was, but I’d rather get you out of my house. So, in fifteen minutes, you are going back to that agent to live the crappy life you deserve. You don’t deserve my charity. You never appreciated what I’ve done for you. Now, you will.”

    Maybe moving was a blessing, but I knew it just meant another house. Maybe I should have sassed him one last time, but I didn’t. Maybe my next thought should have been about Kate and Karl, but it wasn’t. I could only think about myself.

                  *                   *                   *                   *                   *              

    “I’m sorry, Stue. There’s nothing I can do. I know the heroine wasn’t yours,” my foster-care agent droned on.

    I stared out the window. The world looked so bright and welcoming like nothing bad could ever happen. I knew better. No matter how many birds sang in the distant trees, I knew the world wasn’t the Garden of Eden. The scab on my lip was proof.

    “Come on. Say something, Stue,” begged my agent. “I can’t help you unless you let me.”

    Maybe I should have explained the situation, but I didn’t. There wasn’t any need. Kate and Karl were safe in a good home. They didn't need me to watch out for them anymore. Instead, I watched downtown disappear behind me and transform into open land where cows and horse roamed, and crops grew tall, trying to catch the sunshine. Speeding towards a cotton farm meant for delinquent foster kids, the car couldn’t take me back. I didn’t want to go back anyway. I didn’t belong there. Maybe I wouldn’t belong in the new place either, but, then, maybe I would.

    As I opened my car door, I grabbed my backpack and my half full trash bag, and I stepped into a new life. “Thanks, Karen,” I murmured. Truly, I was thankful for every string she’d pulled for me, but it wasn’t enough. I still bounced from house to house wondering if I’d ever call one my home. I slammed the car door shut and resisted the urge to look back. I couldn’t afford the pleasure.

    “Hey!” called some small girl with rich brown skin that had creamy white splotches identical to my pale tones. Her hair was cropped close to her scalp like she’d recently joined the army. Her eyes, though, welcomed me with an unreal gray light. “You’re Stupendous, right?”

    I nodded my head and started walking towards the mansion in front of me. Being named Stupendous, I wish the name reflected on the life I’d live. Of course, it didn’t. Although not always appreciated, the irony was never lost on me.

    “Well, I’m Kylie. I been here three years. I got sent here cause I’m good with locks. I ain’t never stoled anything, but that ain’t enough for them white jerks. Oh, no – no offense to you, of course!” she stumbled out, blushing crimson.

    “It’s cool, hon,” I said with a rare smile. “I know what you mean.”

    After that day, I gained a friend. We shared a yellow room with a big bay window that let in tons of sunlight. Lots of giggles and whispering filled our room. Because of all the good times, I often temporarily forgot the bad times. Our room was one of five. An elderly couple ran the “institution.” Besides Kylie and me, there were six other kids. Two were girls and two were boys all various ages. Even though Kylie was three years younger than me, we did everything together.

    For weeks, I felt almost at home. The other kids were decent bunkmates. The foster parents were nice and warm. The house made me feel safe. Then, one day the monotony overcame me. Having lived with insolvable problems all my life, I never set out to create more issues, until I did.

    “We’re going,” I announced, shattering the depressing silence surrounding us.

    “Stue, Gram and Gramps said no,” exclaimed Kylie from her bed above mine.

    Standing in front of the mirror above our desk, I grinned at Kylie through the mirror. “You sure that’s what you heard?”

    Gradually, a smile spread across her lips. “I ain’t sure what I heard.”

    “That’s my girl!” I cheered before cranking up the music. For the next couple of hours, we danced around the room. We tried on outfit after for the New Year’s Eve party everyone was talking about at our high-school. Because I’d never learned how to do makeup, Kylie did mine and hers. Then, we hopped into bed and waited. Finally, the sounds of life quieted. Around ten, we got up to catch a ride from one of the seniors Kylie knew from an old foster home. However, when I was sneaking out of our two-story high bay window, I slipped slightly to the right and landed in a rosebush.

    “Dad-burn-it!” I whisper yelled into the bushes.

    “Wow, Stue,” a male’s voice whispered back.

    With a yelp and swift quick to the balls, I incapacitated my would-be rescuer.

    “Owww,” the stranger breathed out.

    Kylie dropped out of the window next with a small thud. Another breathy “ouch” escaped the male’s lips as Kylie landed beside me and on top of him.

    “Holy sh—” screams out Kylie.

    Quickly, I grabbed her mouth to muffle the noise.

    Once she’d recovered from the scare, Kylie called out in a whisper, “Rachid?”

    “Yeah,” the stranger answered as he rose up and dusted himself off.

    Kylie laughed and immediately began babbling to her long-lost friend. During the entire drive, Kylie talked. Rachid didn’t mind. He just looked back at me through the rearview mirror, and we shared a smile. When the seventeen-year-old, Ligurian smiled at me with his chipped front tooth and scar along his left jaw line, my head spun. Although I’d never met him before that night, we hung out the whole night.

    Music, fireworks, and cheap champagne filled the dark, untamed woods. With the smell of pines and open air around me, I thought this place in the middle of nowhere was better than the grand, desolate place I’d left. I finally felt free. The past couldn’t haunt me. The future didn’t scare me because in that single moment I’d found a home. My friends had chosen me. I couldn’t ask for more. While I was dancing with Kaylie, I realized she chose me to keep her secrets and be there for her. When midnight came, Rachid chose to kiss me. Thus, ended the perfect night.

    For several more years, I would endure difficulties. A parent found our little rouge party and called us in. Then, I was rehomed again. Maybe I was forced to move to another house, but now I’d had a home. Maybe I’d lost the only happiness I’d ever found, but now I knew I could find it. Maybe I’d ended a chapter of my life, but a new one was sure to begin.