You're My Brother

Foster 1 Day 20- From Bad To Worse

   Parent teacher night is fun. You get to go to school later in the day, walk around with your friends, and introduce your parents to your teachers. It's such an enjoyable time that the teachers even set out food and soda for the parents and students.
   "But you're not even my parents!" Keith whined, defiantly standing at the school entrance, arms folded across his chest. "Can't we please just go back to your home?"
   Your home. The term had been put to use after nearly two days of school. It made it clear to his foster parents that Keith wanted little to no part in their family whatsoever. Contrary to The Home, 'your home' signifies that Keith sees it as a place where people can live happily, just not him. It's not his home since his home burned down a little over two years ago.
   "We are your legal guardians. And no we can't go home because we want to meet your teachers." Sarah informed the child, "the sooner we go inside, the sooner we can leave." She reminded him, making yet another attempt to hold Keith's hand.
   "Stop it!" He pulled his hand away quickly. "You know I hate that..." he grumbled.
   The three of them entered the building, only two thirds of the group, however, seemed happy. Keith of course was the one third that looked like he wanted to slam his head against every wall.
   Even so, he led his guardians up the stairs and towards his classroom.
   "There. We've seen it. Now let's go!"
   Not to his surprise, Jacob and Sarah walked right on in and began checking out the room.
   Keith moaned, slamming the back of his head against the wall before heading in after them.
   "Oh Keith!"
   He heard his teacher call his name and he turned his head to give a slight nod of recognition.
   "You must be his foster parents." Ms. B smiled and introduced herself to the two of them.
   Bored out of his mind, Keith sat down at his desk and waited for them to finish. He listened to their conversation, but it was just more boring things. His guardians would ask about his grades, Ms. B would answer. They'd ask about his friends, Ms. B would answer.
   This went on for some time before they somehow switched roles.
   Keith didn't hear the whole thing but he did hear his teacher ask something he didn't quite like all too much.
   "...a bit temperamental. How is he at home?"
   "Well, you know, with his past it's understandable." Jacob answered first. "He acts out on occasion, but he really is a good kid."
   "We do what we can, but he rarely talks. We're just worried he's going to fall behind." Sarah added.
   His teacher nodded, pondering her next question. "Does he tell you anything?"
   His foster 'mother' gave a small smile. "Sometimes. The most we got was about a tour his classmate gave him, but nothing else."
   "Oh James?"
'Oh no. This is bad. I never went on that stupid tour!'
   "He never got to show Keith around. Keith became very moody and lashed out at James."
   Immediately all eyes were on Keith.
   "Well that's a new detail." Jacob said, an eyebrow raised as if demanding Keith to come clean of everything.
   Feeling rather out of place and more than a little bit uncomfortable, Keith stood up and snuck out of the room.
   He barely made it down the hall before he was stopped by his foster parents. They both looked furious. He knew what they were thinking. 'What did you do?' 'Why did you do it?' 'When did this happen?' 'How come you never told us?'
   Before either one of them could say a word, Keith bolted for the front doors. If he can get away from them, maybe he'll have time to make himself cry or pretend to have tripped or do something to make them less angry.
   His efforts proved futile, they caught up to him within seconds.
   "Why?!" The two of them asked simultaneously.
   "I'm sorry okay?! I told you I'm not like other kids! Just get over it!" He stood there, looking up at them, his own anger growing deep inside of him.
   "Loosing your temper is a very normal thing, but lashing out at another student is a different thing!" His foster dad scolded him.
   "I didn't lash out! I had every right to be pissed at him!"
   "Who did you learn that word from?!"
   "See! This is the problem with you! You don't care about my feelings in anything!" Keith's face was almost entirely red, he was infuriated. He was mad. "You're not my mom! And you're not my dad! Who cares if I know a few cuss words?! You can't tell me what to do!"
   "We are your parents, Keith." Sarah reminded him, "we signed legal documents. There's no difference between a foster mom and a real mom!"
   "Yes there is! There's a huge difference!"
   Neither one of them seemed interested in keeping this argument going and so they walked off. Sarah grabbed Keith's hand, his wrist actually, and led him back to the car.
   The whole way there, Keith squirmed and twisted his arm, trying desperately to get his arm free of her grasp.
   This day had gone from bad to terrible in just five seconds, and it was definitely going to get worse.
   No TV before bed, after school or on the weekend. Not until he learns to control his anger.
   He was never one for watching cartoons, but here, in their home, it was his only source of entertainment.
   Keith was tempted to grab the phone and cal Miss Marry to tell her he wanted to go back. He was given an 'emergency number' in case he felt threatened or was in dire need of returning.
   Only problem was, he was too short to reach it on the counter without moving a stool. The only other two phones were in Jacob's office and their bedroom. Both of which were off limits.
   "What am I gonna do, Comet?!" He asked the dog who simply gave him a confused look in return. "I have to get away! I have to leave! But how?!"
   Comet sensed the boy's upset and nuzzled Keith's chin before resting his head in the boy's hands.
   Keith began petting his dog in a sporadic and nervous pattern. He had to leave.
   His dog curled up in Keith's lap, his slow breathing patterns seemed to work as it calmed Keith down enough for him to form a normal, less crazy thought.
   "At least I still have you..."
   'Right...?'