No Place like Spamily (Editing & Ongoing)

Chapter 2

I was immediately brought back to my childhood life. They did drugs and alcohol for crying out loud! How did Gloria not know this? Because maybe she didn't do her research or I don't know. Maybe it wasn't in their paperwork.

It was crazy. They had a secret lab of meth and any other drug you could name of elsewhere! I was lucky to get out alive and clean. Well, maybe not clean enough. I sometimes had to fight my way out while as I was being cornered. It happened more than once. It didn't do me either good. It made me hate families even more.

They weren't even family.

"Bella..."

I groaned frustratingly and went to sit on the bed, facing the superhero who just stared over my shoulderㅡI'm assuming. I didn't say anything to her. I was just so...

"Bella, please give this family a chance..."

I crossed my arms over my chest stubbornly. I felt her come closer to me and she sat on the other side of the bed. "Bella, please..." She reached her and brushed her fingers against my back. I batted away from her touch.

"No." I childishly snapped.

"Bella," she exclaimed. "You can't just turn down every family. All of them aren't alike." Are you kidding me? I turnt my head toward her, my hair flowing with me.

"Do you hear yourself right now," I cried. "You have no idea what families do to me. Who's gonna want me?" Tears ran down my cheeks. "Do you know how many times I tried to fit in and they still didn't want me!" I didn't know why and I didn't know how, but this stuff was pouring out of me automatically. I couldn't stop it. "I'm-I'm-I'mma shame! I'm a broken teenager who has drugs flowing in her DNA because of...whatever and she can't keep people or-or somebody close to her, no matter how hard she tries!" I stood up and paced beside my bed.

"All families have words," I continued, my throat raw making my voice strain. "They have feelings and all of them hurted mine! They didn't listen to my words, they didn't care about my feelings! Who are they not too?" I extended a pointed finger away from me. "Who are they to judge whether or not I fit in with them! Shouldn't that be my decision!" I pointed to my chest. "Not them," I weak-shouted due to my break out. "Mine! And I tried so hard to love every last one of them!"

All the sudden I was calm or trying to act like it. I smiled. "But did they ever love me?" I added, my voice cracking, not breaking. I glanced away, wiped a tear with the corner of my hand and licked my dry lips. "N-no." My hair curtained my face when I looked down. It wiggled when I shook my head. "No, no, they didn't. They never do." I looked up at Gloria. "So, I'm done with families. Every last one of them."

It seemed like Gloria was trying to run everything I confessed through her head, because her eyebrows had knitted together and was staring down at the bed. She sighed.

"Well..." She rose up from the bed and looked around. "What do you want to me to tell this family that who really, really wants to love you and care for you even after everything I told them about you?"

Her words took me back that the inside of them suffered from an earthquake. I felt so nauseous to where I gagged.  "You told them? Everything?"

"Yes," she answered firmly, her eyes darkening. "Everything."

I took in her words and looked away, crossing my arms under my chest. She told them everything about me at the first time? And why? She didn't tell any other family about my everything. What made this family so important? Was it just they were okay with my everything because they were like my everything. No. No. I didn't want to be around that anymore. I couldn't be around that anymore otherwise I might turn over again.

The only way I could stop from turning over again, I had to do what I had to do.

I turnt my raging eyes towards my social worker with them full of tears, but I didn't let them fall. I was being stubborn.

"Tell them to go to hell," I weakly snarled.

I had to reject them.

Gloria's face was totally pokerfaced. "Very well, then." She smiled and walked out the room, leaving me alone with the man I talked too when I needed too. Now was the time.

But when I turned around to face him, he wasn't looking at me. Just over my shoulder like always, watching what was behind me. Watching Gloria walk away. Watching Gloria walk away to tell a family "to go to hell." He didn't like that at all. He fought against the villains, not the innocent. Was I doing just that? Was I fighting against the innocent? Was I letting my emotional thoughts get in the way of an innocent family?

"I'm always around," he would tell the innocent.

I started to cry.