Prologue

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Emma's POV

"Wake up, idiot," says my foster brother. I opened my eyes to see my brother, sorry, FOSTER brother, Luke staring at me, with a plate in his hands. He throws it onto me and says, "Clean it and get ready for school. We leave in 30 minutes. "

Let me backtrack for a little. My name is Emma. I don't have a last name. I mean, I do. It's Heck. However, that was my sperm donor's last name, the person that I was forced to call Father for the first 10 years of my life. My mother, you ask? She died giving birth to me. My "Father" blames me, as he should. But, when I was 6-ish, he became an alcoholic. When he was drunk, he would hurt me. 

Funnily enough, the garbage man saved me. By the time I was 10, he had noticed the bruises and the many many cans and bottles of beer coming out of our house. He put 2 and 2 together and called Child Protection Services. My father is currently in jail.

I was placed into my first foster family. They were druggies. The next home was a group home where the kids would beat me up. The next home, the father tried to rape me and almost did multiple times. And on and on, it went. Never safe in any of the homes.

The current one was no different. In fact, they were one of the worsts and largest family. Two parents and 4 children, excluding me and one of the youngest daughter who is 5 months so she can't, would abuse me. They left no physical scars, mostly mental and if they are physical, its in a place that is covered up, like my shoulders or my stomach. 

At school, I have one friend. Her name is Lexi. I've known her for 4 years. She is a theater nerd, obsessed with Broadway. Good thing that we live about 15 minutes from the theater district. She claims to have been to Broadway "A million times". Currently, she is obsessed with Hamilton as it just came out a couple months ago. I don't know when it first came out but shes been obsessed. She has been trying to get me to listen to the soundtrack which I told her that I would do for her birthday, which is in a month. Her family is also the one who pays for my phone, so I have her to thank for that. 

Anyways, back to me. I'm in 12th grade, but am 17. I was moved forward a year because in 7th grade, I was moved into another foster home in the middle of the year and they required it. I get out of school in a couple months and then I can leave because the last day of school is my birthday. No more foster parents, just me. Can't wait.

Back to the present. I clean the plate that Luke threw on me and got ready for school but not before making breakfast for the Johnson's. Because I had to make them breakfast, I missed the bus. I had to run 2 and 1/2 miles to school and the whole way, I thought to myself 'It's better than being beaten'

The only one who knows about me being beaten and abused is Lexi and she has tried to alert people but I made her not. 

I hear the bell ring as I get close to school. But, not close enough. I'm late again. I begrudgingly walk to the office and get a late pass. I go to my 1st period which me and Lexi share. She indicates towards her phone which says text me. So, I do.

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