Broken Pieces (Adopted by 5SOS)

I Ponder Of Something Great

Reject's POV

People assume that just because I don't talk I've gone back to being a little kid. I mean, I'm definitely not your average 13 year old but I'm no child either. When I went to a therapist they just told my caretaker at the time that it wasnt unusual for abuse victims to mentally invision themselves or act younger than they really were as a coping mechanism, but I'm not like that. I can keep up with schoolwork and I have all the intelligence that your normal 8th grader would posses.

I'm just different

As I mentioned before, I don't speak. I haven't been speaking since I was 11. I know that most of the people in the world are kind and won't hurt me but there's always that doubt in my brain. It claws at me from at the inside, tearing apart any rationality I might have. Occasionally I hear voices. They sound so real I sometimes wonder if they truly are just in my head.

My mind is an interesting place. It's full of so many things. Beautiful flowers, color, softly spoken i love yous, and make believe pleasant worlds fill the lighter happy areas. It's in those places where most of my art comes from. I don't like drawing my past. That's basically the same as reliving it. I make art of what I wish I had. A loving family, someone I could trust, and a stable place to call home.

It's in the darker corners that my demons are. They're reminiscents of the years before. Broken beer bottles, yelling, hurt and pain. I try to never go there. Sometimes I would remember a glimpse of one of those memories. Then my brain would start getting paranoid. Everyone was now an enemy. No one can be trusted.

"Rae!" My foster mother Jessie called from downstairs, "Time for dinner!"

I made my way to the kitchen, my fingers barely grazing the handrail and edge of the wall for support. Dinner was as it usually was on Thursdays: Microwaved chicken nuggets. Jessie came home from her teaching job later on that day.

"Hello." She said tiredly, "How was your day?"

I gave her a thumbs up and took a bite out of my first nugget. I chewed it for a little while, savoring the taste. I try to savor everything I get in this life. I've got to enjoy it now before it gets taken away later.

The phone rang with a sharp sound. I startled a little bit, almost spilling my cup of water. It's just a phone, I reminded myself, there's no danger.

Jessie sighed, "I'll get it." She picked up the phone as I continued to eat my meal.

"Really? You're interested in Rae?"

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of water. People have come to adopt me a few times in the past 2 years but it never ended up working out. I just didn't connect with those people. I couldn't see myself thinking of them as family or living as their child for the rest of my life. As a "special case" I got a little bit more choosing ability with my future family, I use that to my advantage as much as I can.

"Have you already contacted the agency about wanting to adopt her? Okay, great, so I guess it's up to you guys when you want to visit."

I nibbled on a carrot stick. Oh great, they're planning a visit. I hate visits. The people that want to adopt me are always so awkward and don't know what to say. It's like my silence intimidates them. I will not agree to be adopted by a family that can't be at ease in my presence.

"Tommorrow at 3? That sounds great! Alright, I'll see you then. Goodbye."

Jessie bounced back to the table, "There's someone who wants to adopt you!"

I acted like I didn't hear her.

"You'll like them." She urged me, "There's four of them and they're in a band. Doesn't that sound interesting?"

I shrugged so that would at least show her that I was listening. Four guys in a band. That didn't sound interesting at all. In fact, that sounded like the scariest thing on Earth. They're going to be so loud all the time. I can't handle that. This isn't going to work.

"They're coming tomorrow at three, so please dress nice." Jessie reminded me, "And maybe if you drew something for them they would like you even more."

I shook my head. Strangers don't deserve drawings. My art is special to me and I don't give it away to just anyone.

Jessie put her fork down, "It was just an idea. Just give them a chance, okay? They seemed really nice and eager when I talked to them on the phone. Give it a shot."

I pushed my plate towards the middle of the table and pointed towards the doorway of the room.

"Yes, you can be excused." She brushed some hair away from her face, "I'm technically not allowed to tell you this but they're getting tired of your case, honey. It's been two and a half years. They want you adopted. Soon."

I nodded quickly and made my escape back to my room. They're getting tired of my case? What does that even mean?

It means they're going to send you to a bad place if you're not adopted soon

The hair on the back of my neck started to rise. There they are again. I call them the loud thoughts. They're like normal thoughts but louder and more humanlike. Sometimes they seem like a,person is actually talking to me.

I picked up a fresh piece of paper. Jessie was right, I gotta get adopted quick. I might as well make a good impression.

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hey guys :)

here's the first rewritten chapter