Chapter 1: Alone.

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Please note.. I wrote this awhile ago and I am no where near proud of it. It's quite bad. Please don't hate the book, lol.

Sophie's POV


  Looking out towards the window I sigh; I've been in foster care for 5 years now. I was taken away from my parents at age 8

I've hated every last second of it. Don't get me wrong, the people who work here try to be very nice, but it's hard to appreciate when no one cares about you.

I totally understand why someone wouldn't adopt me. just look at my past; my dad was very abusive, VERY. When he sent me to school I would have to make up an excuse for all the beating marks and bruises. This is a lot for an eight year old to hide. I mean 2nd grade; thats tough.

I never had friends at school, no one talked to me. The teachers turned their backs against me. Even if I wanted to tell someone about the beatings, I had no one to tell.

Usually at the foster home you would share a room with someone, except me, no one would share a room with me, no one wanted me. You'd think I'd be atleast a bit more excited when someone came to "look at me" for adoption. It's just an instinct to push everyone close to me away.

It rarely happend for ANYONE to come look at me. I mean who would want a girl thats hair is the same color as dirt, being 13 no one wants you anyways, It's all about the babies.

I take a glance at the clock, its 8:30. That means its my turn to shower, you only get 5 minutes to shower, waters very expensive for 100+ kids.I walk into the shower room as we called it, it had three showers I stepped into the one that was open and began washing my long brown hair. After my five minutes are up I get out of the shower and put a towell around myself. I begin to walk into my bedroom, or the place where my bed sits. I go towards the wardrobe in the corner and take my running shorts and a t-shirt for bed. My hair is still wet and probably going to be that way for awhile. I braid it to the side and hop into bed. 

   I crawl onto my bed and tuck myself, tucking myself has become what I do everyday. I never really experienced being tucked in by a parent and them telling you they love you. My family was as messed up as can be; my mom left when I was three and forever after that my dad blamed me for her leaving, he would come home after a long day and drink he's troubles. Which lead to him abusing me. The abuse started when I was about eight years old. The years before it was mostly neglect. He would physically abuse me and emotionaly. My teachers always turned away pretending not to see the brusies and the cuts my father had left me with. Let's just say I hated life. And I still do. I don't think I could ever go through with suicide but if I car was speeding at me at 100 miles per hour, I don't think I'd move.

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Very short I know, this is just the intro! :D Please comment/vote/fan! 

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