Home. Doesn’t it sound like such a wonderful place? Well, I never used to have a home. I just moved from house to house and the people that lived there before me may have called it home but these houses were never mine. Well, I’ve always lived somewhere in Calgary, in somebody’s house until they kicked me out and put me back in that stupid orphanage. I guess those were only foster homes.
When I was 3 I was put into foster care with a person named Gwen. She had an expensive car but a very sad house with a whole bunch of holes. That was the first time I had whiskey, but she said it was just juice. I think she put me back into that dumb orphanage because I asked too many questions, but it might have also been that I was too expensive.
When I was 5 I went into foster care again with a man named Igor. He didn’t really enjoy me. At least I don’t think he did. He kept me for like a year until he died because of brain cancer. I was stuck in his disgusting house until somebody realized that he wasn’t paying his bill anymore. They sent a cop over and found him dead on the couch and me drawing on the floor with crayons. I was stuck in that house for like a week all by myself and there was no way out! I didn’t know how to open a door or a window. When they found me they put me back in the orphanage.
When I was 8 I was brought into foster care for the last time, with a man and a woman. I never knew their names because they always wanted me to call them mommy and daddy, I never would. It was awful! They had like 15 kids and we were all stuffed into 1 room.
I guess home is a place to sleep, but unless the home is somewhere you feel comfortable and safe it isn’t really “home”. How do people find a home when all seems lost?