Adopted by Lin Manuel Miranda rewrite

The Fine Art of Bullshit

It felt like she was falling and there was no one there to catch her. Everybody was just passing by as she fell flat on her ass.

It's been like that for as long as Lily could remember. She's been in a home after home. Foster family after foster family. This is her eighth home. She's been in eight homes in the span of six years and to her, she seemed to have the shittiest luck with families. Ever since she was seven she's been bossed around, verbally and emotionally abused, not to mention the one family that actually physically abused her. Luckily they got caught and were sent to jail for child abuse.

Lily's parents died when she was seven. They were in an awful car accident on the way home from a date. A drunk driver ran the red light and boom, her parents were gone forever. The local police contacted her grandparents, but they wanted nothing to do with her because she was a reminder of what they lost. After that, she was sent to foster care. Lucky for her, the first home actually wasn't that bad. They fed her, treated her wonderfully and helped her with her homework and such. They treated her like she was actually a part of their family. Unfortunately, that didn't work out because they ended up getting pregnant and having their own kid. From there everything went downhill. It seemed like every family just got worse.

Now here she is with the Johnston's, her eighth family. They scream and yell at her every day, make it to where she does literally everything in the house, and not to mention they make sure that she feels like total shit every day of her life.

She tried desperately to be what they wanted her to be, but it's never good enough. She would always say something wrong, or mess something up. After trying for so long and with no luck. She stopped trying. She did what she could to stay away from everybody. She did what she was told quickly and quietly.

Sometimes the quiet part was extremely difficult, especially with her foster brother, Jackson, around. He would constantly make fun of her, he pushed her around, he'd demand things from her, and scream at her which made it extremely difficult not scream back at him. Fortunately she's kept her composure so far.

Today was one of those days where she had to try extra hard to not scream back at him. He had woken her up before her alarm went off because he wanted her to make breakfast. Without saying a word she trudged downstairs and started making him pancakes.

After the first few were done, she placed some on a plate, along with some sausage she had made. She brought it to the table and Jackson started eating right away.

After a few moments he came back into the kitchen, "accidentally" dropped the plate on the floor, breaking it in the process, and the floor and said," The pancakes taste like shit. Remake them." He then made his way out of the kitchen.

Lily huffed and started to clean the broken plate. She tried to pick up a particular piece of the play, but added up cutting a small bit of her palm. She hissed in pain for a second before groaning and getting up to clean her hand. She quickly cleaned the blood off and placed a band-aid over the wound.

As she was going back into the kitchen, her foster father, Mark, stopped her.

"Why the hell is there a broken plate on my floor?" He asked gruffly. Mark was probably the second worst foster parent she had so far. He always blamed her stuff Jackson did, he never listened to her sides of the story, made her do every chore in the house, and he constantly made her feel like complete and utter shit.

"Jackson dropped it and when I went to pick it up, I cut my palm. I was getting a band aid." During the entire exchange, she kept her eyes on the ground with the hope that maybe he would let her just finish picking it up.

"God dammit, when will you stop blaming my son for everything you do? Jesus Christ, just man up and tell the truth." There it was. The blame.

"I'm not lying, sir. He dropped it by accident." The words just flew out of her mouth. Before she had time to say sorry, a hand collided with the right side of her face.

"Don't you dare talk back to me. Now, tell the damn truth. Who dropped the plate?" Mark looked like a cartoon character. His face was red and it seemed like animated smoke should be coming out of his ears.

"I broke it sir." She whispered, looking down. Her right cheek stung with pain.

"Speak up."

"I broke it." Her voice was a little louder this time.

"Pick it up. Make breakfast. Make it fast." Mark practically spit in her face and walked away. She wiped at her face and quickly walked into the kitchen. The right side of her face stung and the higher part of her cheekbone throbbed from where Mark's wedding ring hit her. She forced herself to hold back tears as she finished picking up the plate. She quickly went back to making breakfast, making a whole new batch of pancakes, also deciding to cut some fruit to go with it. She finished breakfast as quick as she possibly could and served it to the Johnston's. After it was served she quickly retreated to her room to get ready for school.

After gathering her clothes, she walked into the bathroom to get dressed and to do her hair. Upon entering, she looked in the mirror and saw the light red spot, but also indent of where the ring hit. The area around the indent was swollen and bright red. The beginning of a bruise had already started to form and it was noticeable.

After muttering a quick curse under her breath, she pulled out some foundation and concealer from a basket on her counter. It was cheap and she didn't really know how to do makeup, but it would do for now. She messily applied the makeup and looked at her work. The indent was still there but the red and forming bruise were definitely less noticeable. She quickly sighed in relief before finishing the rest of her morning routine. She dressed herself in a simple black t-shirt, light blue skinny jeans, a pair of cheap white tennis shoes, and a white cardigan. She put her hair in a high-ponytail and left the bathroom. She walked over to her night stand and grabbed a ring that was sitting on the light wood surface.

The ring had been her mother's wedding ring. It had been saved after the accident and somehow survived all the moves. She wore it everyday and only took it off at night and in the shower. It was the only thing she had left of her parents and she cherished it with everything in her.

Finally she grabbed her book bag, slinging it over her shoulders, and walked out of her room. She grabbed her phone from on top of the bookcase by the door as she neared her exit. That was where she was forced to put it every night when she went to bed. A rule that only applied to her, like every other rule in this house.

After slipping her phone in her back pocket, she opened the door and slipped out of the house for the day. She grabbed her earbuds out of her bookbag and plugged them into her phone. She turned on some music and slipped into her own world as she walked down the street.

While in her own world, she thinks. She thinks about how much different her life could be. She thinks about what might have happened if her parents hadn't died that night. Or if her grandparents actually wanted to keep her. She thinks about how her life could have been so much better if the night had just gone a little bit different.

She also hopes while in this world. This is the only time she is actually able to hope. She hopes that one day someone will actually love her. That someone might actually care about her. That somebody will take care of her when she's sick, or help her when her homework is frustrating her to the point of tears, or when she's sad and needs cheering up. Most of all, she hopes she can have a family.

But soon enough the hope disappears. Why would anyone want a sad, broken teenager whose parents died and grandparents didn't want? There are kids who have it worse off. Kids whose parents abandoned them, kids whose parents are abusive, kids that are homeless. Compared to them, her problems are nothing. She shouldn't be complaining, she has a roof over her head, she eats at least a meal a day, she goes to school, she's fine.

Her life is fine.

Hola guys! I'm back and I actually rewrote it! Proud of me?

Well it's here, I hope you guys like it.

Please give feedback, I'm always up for improvement

Thank you if you're still reading this lmao

ok i'll stop byeeee