At the time, I was living in a small three bedroom ranch style house with a younger couple that had just become foster parents.
This was going to be easy, I remember telling myself, so freaking easy.
After all, I had had over four years of experience in learning how to manipulate and connive my way through life, not always getting the exact results I had wanted,
but generally more things went my way than not. And this young couple, well it turned out that I was their first experience at ‘fostering’ a ‘troubled’ child.
Yup, this was going to be freaking easy.
To say that I was a ‘troubled child’ was kind of a misnomer and an understatement at the same time. I really wasn’t a child anymore, at least not in my eyes.
I was just a couple of months shy of my sixteenth birthday and had the wherewithal to be able to handle myself in most any circumstance.
And if what I did to handle things caused me misery or pain? Oh well, I had become used to living in pain, and misery was my closest friend at that time.
As for being ‘troubled’, well that was the label they had affixed to me and I was more then willing to live up to and beyond that label.
By the time Lori and Dan had invited me into their home, I had a resume of problems and troubles that went on for over one hundred and sixty some pages.
I recently received a copy of my youthful history, and when I read some of the things I did, I cringe at just how fucking asinine, foolish and rebellious I was.
But hey, one has to do what one has to do to survive, right?
The day I first met Lori and Dan, I was having a good day, well a good week actually.
But if life had taught me anything, it had taught me that the good times never last, and they always come with a price; a price that was required to be paid in full at the end of their duration.
I eyed Lori and Dan up and down, trying to figure out just what scams they were running by taking me into their house.
At the same time, I was plotting out my own angles to run on them to best get me what I wanted. And just what was it that I wanted? I didn’t rightly know at the time.
All I knew was I wanted my freedom. The freedom to be alone. The freedom from my past. The freedom to seek vengeance. The freedom to die. Just plain freedom.
But as the old song says, ‘freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose’. And as for me, I literally had, nothing left to lose.