A Silent Melody (ON HOLD)

1.1: Introductions

My name is Melody R. Simmons. I am 11 years old and live in a foster home.

How did I end up in a foster home?

There is not much to tell. I don't remember much as I was so young; only a child at three. One thing I do remember is a great and terrible fire and a pair of red golden eyes.

I was told some time after the incident that my father murdered my mother and burned himself to death in the house. I was lucky enough to be rescued in time, they had said.

I was placed into foster care with kind mother Tonya and father Daniel.

But it didn't work out. I only stayed with them for about 3 year.

Mother Tonya and father Daniel were a nice couple who opened their home to several foster children. They were both kind to me. I liked them.

But then...father Daniel started to change. Towards me.

He would stare at me sometimes with an odd look and sometimes touch my face a bit strangely to my discomfort. He would sit in his chair in the corner of my bedroom and just watch me sleep.

Then one night, father Daniel, sitting in his chair, watched me and my roommate Shelly sleep. In the middle of the night I woke up to find father Daniel hovering over me. His hands roamed underneath my clothes and his tongue lapped at my neck. I tried to scream but no voice came out. I’ve long lost it in the great fire that night. My little hands clawed at his face and my feet kicked at his stomach. His stronger body pinned my limbs down on the bed.

I did not understand why he was doing that but fear still clung to my heart. My mouth opened in an attempt to scream. On reflex, his hand covered my mouth. My heart beat faster and faster as the fear overtook me. My mind screamed in silence and flashed red. Then, through the hazy fog in my mind, I heard father Daniel cry out in agony. My mind returned to me. I saw him crouching on the floor holding the top half of his face with his hands. Deep red blood was streaming down his hands through the hollows of his fingers.

Shelly, who'd awakened from the screaming, ran out of the bedroom screaming in terror. Mother Tonya rushed in at that moment to find me backed up against the headboard of my bed and a terrified father Daniel clutching his face. "Demon! Demon! She’s a demon!" He yelled repeatedly between his cries. 

That night, the police came. I don't know what happened to father Daniel after that. I was removed from that foster home and placed into a different one.

From then on, I continued to move from foster home to foster home. My heart felt cold and my mind indifferent and unattached. My hope to find a real home waned and fell flat without a sound.

I now stay in the foster home of Ms. Lance. She is 36-years-old. It’s been over a year since I’ve moved into her home. Ms. Lance is a caring woman, but her ex-husband was not a kind one.

Not long after I moved in, Ms. Lance, who was still married then, found her husband's secret hobby of preying on children. Ms. Lance was devastated with shame and guilt. She turned her husband in to the police with hard evidence and filed for a divorce. She sold her house and opened a new foster home in another state.

This morning Ms. Lance has informed me that a nice family is adopting me. I am to leave the foster home and meet my new family this coming Sunday.

I should be happy. At last, someone was finally adopting me as their own. But, the only thing I feel is apprehension.

Will this be it?

I have my doubts.