Chapter 2

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Phil  pov:

What just happened. A wonderful and shy little girl was just embarrassed by an adult that is supposed to care for her. And 67 homes in 8 years. How does that happen? That is a lack of background checking and harsh parenting. How could they let that happen?

Mrs. Grey turns on her nice face and says, "I will let you all discuss the problem child," Tommy scuffs, who has Wilbur holding him back from screaming at the rude lady. Once Wilbur lets go Tommy bursts, "WTF!" he yells. 

"Tommy it's okay, we will get y/n away from her." 

"Oh we fucking will," Tommy says with anger prominent in his voice. 

"I want to give her a good life. I can't imagine what 8 times what I had would be like. 1 year was hell after 2 homes, then my home, but 8. I can't even comprehend that." Techno says, and from what I have heard I couldn't agree more. We had made the decision. Operation: Save Y/n, is on.


Y/n pov:

I walk right up to my room and lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. It's your fault they're dead. You are a burden. You're a fat ass. No one wants you. They will just hurt you, like everyone. Why did you kill your parents?  The voices wouldn't stop. The words rang through my head. I go into the bathroom and search for a blade. I found one and held it in my hand. I take a few deep breaths and roll up my sleeve. My arm is covered in bright red lines from top to bottom. I hold the cold blade against my skin and knock knock knock. I throw the blade back in the drawer and walk out by my bed. Mrs. Grey comes in.

"I don't know why but the Watson's want to foster you. See you in a month when you are bruised and sore," I look down at the ground, "Pack now," I nod and throw my sweatshirts, joggers, fidget cube, and my blade into my backpack. I then walk out the door and downstairs. 

"Are you sure you want to take her I mean 67 homes in 8 years..." 

Wait, is she trying to keep me from a home. Normally she just throws me in trashy ones. My head drops and I stop in my tracks. What does she not understand, all I want is my mom. But I killed her. I took her life and my dad's. It's all my fault. 

"I want her. You are treating her poorly and she needs a good rest of her life. I'll make sure she is well taken care of. I want to give her a forever home." I hear Phil say. Is this real. I still can't trust him fully but this feels a little different. This feels good. I walk out into the area with a pissed-off Mrs. Grey and the accomplished Watsons. I feel everyone's eyes on me once again. 

"Be good," That is all Mrs. Grey says until I am out the door walking behind 4 men, the Watsons.

I hop into the car Phil driving, Techno in the passenger seat, Wilbur sitting behind Phil, and Tommy sitting in the middle. I am sitting behind Techno. It is awkward at first. I don't know them yet. But one thing I do notice. I am short, especially compared to these huge boys. Normally, I don't feel tiny. Of course, I know I am short but, I am 5"2. God, you can't fit in anywhere. Not even with your dead dad or mom. The voices keep whispering hurtful phrases at me. Telling me I'm useless.

The car is filled with an uncomfortable silence until Phil speaks up, "Do you guys want to stop for food on the way? Y/n, I don't know if you ate before you left, but I know we haven't eaten much today." 

"YES, LET'S GET MCDONALDS!" Tommy screams. Everyone laughs at the silly child and I let a smile creep onto my face but immediately realize and go back to neutral. Don't get too comfortable. They don't want you.

Techno pov:

Tommy screams about wanting Mcdonald's and we all laugh. I look in the mirror and catch a glimpse of y/n's smile. Then she lets it fall. She is now deep in thought. She seems to have been through a lot. More than any of us could imagine because Phil got us all out of the foster care system within about a year and that was hell. I want to get to know her but I can tell it will take a while for her to warm up to us. We got Wilbur when I was 6 he was 5. He had seen some things a 5-year-old definitely shouldn't have seen. And, we got Tommy when I was 9, Wil was 8, and he was 6. He always has overcompensated his emotions when talking to people because he doesn't want to seem rude. Unlike Wil, he stayed sympathetic and quiet unless around us.

We drive into the McDonalds a few minutes later. "What do you all want?" Phil asks. Y/n's stress is visible all over her face, and her hands clench and release, clench, release.

"I'll have a cheeseburger and some fries," Wil responds.

"I'll have the same," I comment.

"I want chicken nuggets, and a coke," Tommy pauses, "Please." 

"Yeah, that's no problem, Tommy. Y/n what do you want." 

I see her face gets a worried look all over it, "Can I have chicken nuggets too, I am not very hungry though," She pauses, "If that's not a problem for you." 

"That is totally fine y/n. Do you only want a 5 pack then, instead of 10?"

"Yes please, that would be nice," She says still tense.

I can tell already. She is just like Tommy when he first came. She constantly needs reassurance. I already knew she has anxiety because of the fidget thing, Wil also has that. It helps him hopefully it helps her too. But I think she has an eating disorder. She keeps staring at her body, needs reassurance, doesn't want much food, and from what I know, she has been getting treated awfully by Mrs. Grey. And probably a few of the houses she stayed at.

Y/n pov:

The thought of food makes my head pound. My stomach turns. You fatty don't order food. You are gonna spend their money already, wow, rude. You have to be skinny like the rest of the family. Look at their perfect bodies. I look down at my horrid body and the rest of the family's skinny and perfect stature. Wow, I am ugly.

Phil asks what everyone wants then asks me. Shit. Shit. "Can I have chicken nuggets too, I am not very hungry though," I quickly and quietly speak, then realize how rude that was, "If that's not a problem for you," I add on. God, I can't even be nice. 

"That is totally fine y/n. Do you only want a 5 pack then, instead of 10?"

The relief comes across my face, "Yes please that would be nice," I tense again. Wait, did he say that because he thinks I am fat? I look at my body and take a deep breath. Calm down. 

We get our food and I am disgusted by the smell, the sight, all of it. I start to nibble on a chicken nugget as I watch Techno and Phil devour their food. Wil eats slower, along with Tommy. I am eating the slowest by far but that is okay. I'm not hungry. I tell myself. I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry.

We pull up to a huge house. I stare at the modern white house in awe. This is the nicest house I have ever been to.


Word Count: 1315

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