The Unplan

A true memory of a sorry person.

There I was, holding onto a duffle bag packed so tight with clothes heading down to the front door of the foster home I was dumped in again. I was so sick of being shoved around. I was only 13 years old and on my 15th placement since I had came into the foster care system 4 years earlier. This was my moment. I was leaving, never to come back.

I was filling my heads with thought. “No one cares about you.” “You’re better off dead.” “Your own mom and dad don’t even bother to get you back.” It was just the ammo I needed to get out of that front door. My pace quickened and my heart was pounding so hard I felt like I would pass out.  I walked for 5 blocks down to a wooded area from my foster home. I was waiting for him. He said he was going to take care of me. He said I would never want for anything again. I was ready. I didn’t care. He made me feel loved. Well as loved as a 13 year old girl with no parents or family around her could feel.
Los came around the corner in his car. I came out of the camouflage of the trees and got in. He grabbed my bag and threw it in the back seat. “You good? They ain’t follow you or nun did they?” Los asked looking at my face. “Yea we good, you know they don’t care.” I replied. Los headed out to his place on the south side where I would be staying with the other girls. Los was known as a business man. A man who sold whatever he could to make money. He referred to himself as an Entrepreneur.

When we got to the house Los had Ms.Tay show me the room I would be staying in with 3 other girls.  My job he said ; would be to clean up the house and take care of a few things for him here and there. The first week in the house was fine. I spent most of my time cleaning, cooking, watching a couple of the kids, and helping to bag up work. Bagging work was not a pleasant thing to do. It made me feel uncomfortable but, Los insisted I do it. “You need to learn baby girl.” He would always tell me.
By the third week Los propositioned me to do my first trick. I was hesitant but, I didn't want to go back to foster care. Los had been good to me. Again; as good to me as a person who wants something from you could be. I became the youngest trick in the house at only 13. Los made me tell customers I was 19. “18 would make you suspicious he would tell me.” I remember one night I didn’t want to trick. Los asked nicely until his patients wore out. He slapped me in the face repeatedly until I begged him to stop and agreed to go thru with it. This was me now, I remembered thinking. I felt I had it so bad in foster care, but now I was begging for someone to save me. I lived this way for 3 months.

Just one week short of my 14th birthday a private investigator found me walking a crosswalk on my way back to the trap house. I was picked up and immediately thrown in the juvenile detention center for running away from the foster home. I was crying in the back of the police car because I was saved from an awful decision I made.

That year I was sentenced to go to an all girls correctional facility. In the year that I was there I decided I wanted to be more. I made the decision that I would finish High School, stay out of trouble and become something. I was going to become the best person I could be with the life I was given. I did go to juvenile detention one more time but, it was a temporary placement due to a foster home needing time to get ready to receive me. You are never guaranteed a safe role in life. It's good to find that out early.  I didn't expect things to be the way they were, but then again if it is too good to be true, It probably is.