KENZIE
The world blurs around me as my body plummets hastily back towards the earth. Gentle whispers of early summer air glide across my skin and the feeling of it whipping through my already tousled hair soothes some of the craters in my soul. There is a searing moment of anticipation as I wait for my body to connect with the ground beneath me, but once my back makes contact with the surface below, the feeling is quickly replaced by elation as I am propelled back up towards the sky.
I have been out here for almost two hours now and like the past afternoons I have spent jumping on the trampoline this week, I am lucky enough to be treated to the most perfect of conditions. Truthfully, I should be using this time to complete my homework, but considering it is almost the end of the year and my entire education is currently in limbo, I decided that spending a little extra time de-stressing and having fun was a far more beneficial option.
With this mandatory excursion happening tomorrow, I have felt my anxiety steadily begin to climb over the past few days, and the extra time on the trampoline has acted as the perfect distraction when that stress becomes too much for me to handle. Despite not having slept properly for several consecutive days now, I have done my best to keep the exhaustion from causing havoc in our household, but I'm fairly certain that everyone is well aware of my delicate condition.
Even Ben, who is usually jumping at the bit to hang out with me has kept his distance this week in the hopes that I will get some much needed rest instead. He has even banned me from working in the restaurant kitchen, fearing that I will accidentally injure myself in my fatigued state. Despite multiple attempts to convince him otherwise, Ben has remained solid on his decision and after he threatened to dob me in to Nathan and Will, I decided to just let it go.
James and I have spoken several times since my last session with Dr Miler and although he has tried his hardest to convince me to accept Dr Miller's recommendations, I'm still not entirely sold on the idea of taking anti-depressants. Although, his explanation of the drugs and how they work has cleared up a lot of my concerns so I can't say that his efforts have been completely in vain, but it doesn't make it any easier to make an informed decision when my judgement is almost completely clouded by fatigue.
At this point, there have only been a few things that have helped me cope with my overwhelming exhaustion and the unshakeable sense of panic that has continued to build as my mother's parole hearing grows closer. The first being endless cuddles with my trusty pal Basil, who despite not being able to protect me from my dreams, has acted as a reliable source of comfort through the worst of the aftermath. The next one being my appointment as head chef within the household. After allowing me to cook dinner the past couple of nights everyone insisted (with my agreement) that I should take over dinner duty on a regular basis. I get the feeling that this is one of their ways of trying to include me further in their schedules, but regardless I am grateful for the distraction it has provided.
Which leads me to the final (and possibly the funnest) of my three coping mechanisms: the trampoline.
Don't get me wrong, I love cooking more than almost anything else in the world, but when I am in the kitchen there is a lot that can go wrong and it usually requires my full concentration. With the trampoline, I don't have to think about anything. I can just jump and forget that the world around me even exists.
Nathan has scolded me twice already for attempting to nail a front flip, but each time I just brush him off and continue jumping normal until he turns his hawk like gaze away from the kitchen window again. Sure, I don't particularly want to break any of my bones, but if I did, I would much rather hurt myself trying to achieve something awesome. Painful experiences are nothing new to me, but never have my injuries been sustained by doing something fun.
I don't blame Nathan for being worried, but sometimes he needs to just chill out and let me enjoy the moment instead of letting his protective instincts take over all the time. Even Chris, who is well known in our household to be a serial worrier has managed to find a way to keep his protective impulses at bay, even though at times it is clear that he wants to do more to shelter me from harm. The point is, if Chris and the others can take a step back and let me have some fun, then Nathan should be able to as well.
Contemplating whether or not I should try another front flip just for the hell of it, I quickly decide against it knowing that if Nathan catches me in the act again he will probably ban me from the trampoline for a couple of days and with the amount of stress that has been creeping up on me in recent days, I need access to all of my coping mechanisms if I am going to mentally survive the events in store this week. Instead, the next time I launch myself into the air, I tuck my arms around my legs and cannonball back to the mat below. I do this a few more times until the rolling motion starts to make me feel a bit dizzy, then I switch back to simply jumping up and down like a normal person would.
"Sweet trampoline." A woman's voice interrupts me mid jump, causing me to stumble slightly on my landing in surprise.
Turning my head towards the source of the voice, I am greeted by the sight of Chelsea, my newly appointed case worker from the fostering agency. Her dark blonde hair is pulled back into a messy bun leaving two loose strands to dangle on either side of her face while her body is adorned with a plain pink t-shirt, a pair of denim jean shorts that cuff just above the knee and a pair of white converse that have little pink jewels on the side of them.
Her appearance in general catches me off guard, probably because I am so used to seeing everyone else at the agency wearing crisp office wear and fancy black shoes that are so shiny you can practically see your own reflection in them, but for some reason I find her down to earth attire rather refreshing. And in the interest of being honest, I kind of really like her shoes.
"Can I jump with you for a bit?" Chelsea asks, resting her hands on the edge of the trampoline as she waits for my answer.
"Ok." I nod hesitantly, stepping to the side so that she can climb up onto the trampoline with me. I can't say I have ever had one of my case workers want to do something fun with me, but there is always a first time for everything.
At my approval, Chelsea launches herself up onto the trampoline mat, causing me to bounce slightly from the sudden movement. Keeping my balance is easy and once we are both in a standing position it only takes a couple of seconds for Chelsea to make the first move, digging her feet in and using her arms to propel herself into the air.
I let her jump a couple more times to get used to the resistance of the springs before using the displacement of the mat from her next jump to launch myself high into the air alongside her. Despite having jumped on this trampoline a million times before, the excitement and fun of it remains the same as it was the very first time.
We continue to jump together for several minutes, most of it in comfortable silence. Chelsea looks as if she is having as much fun as I am, and despite having the slightest sliver of doubt dancing around my brain, I allow myself to push it aside so as not to ruin the moment. I don't know why Chelsea is here, but this time I am not going to psych myself out before she has had the chance to explain her appearance for herself.
"Sometimes, when I jump really high I like to pretend that everything is in slow motion. I can feel the wind in my hair and there is a fraction of a second at the very top of the jump just before gravity kicks in again where it feels like you're floating. I live for those moments." Chelsea breaks our mutual silence and I would be lying if I said her words didn't surprise me.
I thought I was the only one who felt that way when jumping on a trampoline, but apparently there are others out there who understand the feeling. James might have an idea of what I am talking about when I try to explain this exact same thing to him, but I don't think he has ever experienced the feeling for himself which means that he will never truly understand the extent of emotion I feel whenever I am out here lunching myself into the air.
Jumping on the trampoline with Chelsea has felt so effortless. For some reason my usual anxiety towards my case workers isn't blaring in my brain like a fog horn, and I don't know if it because she is being her authentic self or because she hasn't looked down once as if I am just someone who needs to be managed, but it feels nice to not feel so suspicious all the time.
Although, I am acutely aware that this visit is more than just a regular check in, I have been through enough case workers to know when something isn't right. Chelsea exhibits no red flags and although I haven't known her very long at all, I can tell that she is not like anybody else I have ever been managed by before. There is something hauntingly familiar about the way she holds herself but I can't quite pinpoint exactly what it is that makes her stand out.
"I know that you don't trust me Kenzie, and that's only fair. You haven't had a great track record with your previous case managers, but I'd like to believe that I can be different." She says, cutting her next jump so that she is standing relatively still at the side of the trampoline.
Drawing myself to a stop, I stumble slightly as I try to maintain my balance and completely stop my momentum from flinging me skyward again. The lack of motion combined with the sudden seriousness of her words makes me feel exposed, but I do my best to keep from letting my discomfort show.
"I don't mean to sound rude, but if all the other case managers have said the same thing and they all left, then what makes you think that your appointment is going to be any more successful than what theirs had been?" I ask, crossing my arms against my stomach as a way of ensuring that I don't crumble under the weight of my own anxiety. If she comes back with the same dumb ass answer that every other case worker has then I will have no choice but to shut her out like the rest of them.
"Because I know better than most what you are going through and I wish that somebody could have done for me and my sister what I have the opportunity to do for you." She answers with an emotionless smile.
"I don't understand."
Chelsea nods her head as if she had been expecting my confusion, but what she says next makes everything clear as day.
"I also grew up in the foster care system. It was only for a few years, but those years were some of the most terrifying and awful moments of my life. You might not think it's true, but I know what it feels like to be on the other side of a system that treats you like you're nothing more than just a number in their system. It's lonely and degrading and it's just shit."
She isn't wrong, and hearing those words come from someone who works for the government only makes this moment more surreal. This woman in front of me just summed up the last ten years of my life in five seconds. If this had been any of my previous case workers they would still be standing there trying to convince me that they are the best thing since sliced bread.
"If you hate the system so much then why would you choose to become a social worker?"
"Because I want the children who are being raised in foster care now to be treated better than I was. It's hard enough being torn away from your parents and the only life you have ever known without having some complete stranger decide every little detail of your life thereafter.
At the very least, all children in care should be treated with respect and dignity and I hate that this isn't the case for a lot of them. I have the power to make a difference in somebody's life, and I know that what I'm doing isn't much, but to that one child it could be the difference between living a life of fear and distrust, and living a life of peace and happiness." She answers, tucking her thumbs into the edge go her pant pockets.
Taking the time to think about what she just said I start to understand where she is coming from. If I had been treated with the same level of respect and dignity like any other child my age for those first few years that I was introduced to the system then I probably wouldn't be as distrustful of just about every adult who has walked into my life over the past ten years. Some of my case workers at the agency were the worst offenders and when their lack of understanding was paired with a placement with an abusive or emotionally manipulative foster carer, it's not hard to see how easy it was for me to shut everyone out.
I am just one kid in the foster care system. Sure, I had a ton of problems before I placed into care, but that doesn't change the fact that if I had been given the right support and been treated with a bit of humility things could have been very different to what they are now.
"Look, I appreciate the sentiment, but shouldn't you be focusing your energy on some of the younger kids on your case list? it's a bit too late to try and fix things for me now, the damage has already been done." I may be too far past the point of being fixable, but if I had the choice I would much rather some other child have the opportunity to be saved from living the same fate I have been dealt.
"It's never too late to be treated the way you deserve to be treated. I might not know the real you very well, but out of all the other kids on my case list I can tell that you need this more than any of them and I'm not going to let you or anybody else try to convince me otherwise." She responds with a stubborn shrug.
"I think you're wasting your time, but I'm not convinced that you are like the other case workers I have had before so I am willing to give you a chance."
"Phew. Well that's a relief to hear, and I am really grateful that you are willing to give me a chance, but I have a few questions that I need to run past you before I go inside an make my presence known to your guardians."
"I thought you might." I nod, lowering myself down so that I am sitting cross legged on the trampoline mat. I know what is about to come so I figure I might as well be comfortable while I let my case worker do her job.
Chelsea follows my lead and within seconds of finding a comfortable spot, she dives straight into her mandatory interview. The questions are the same ones that every other case worker asks me when they undertake a routine check in and for the first time in what feels like forever I am able to answer her questions honestly without any difficulty. Once Chelsea is convinced that I am safe, healthy (or as healthy as I can be with my condition) and relatively happy with this foster family, she moves the conversation along to things that are far less serious, and it isn't until the sun starts to set that she draws the conversation to a close altogether.
"I think we should probably head inside now. I can feel Nathan staring a hole into my back as we speak and I get the feeling he isn't too happy with my unexpected appearance." Chelsea suggests as she rocks back onto her knees and slides herself over towards the lip of the trampoline mat.
Looking over my shoulder towards the kitchen window, I giggle quietly at her admission because sure enough, Nathan is standing at the glass pane and his sights are set directly on Chelsea who simply waves back at him in return. A second later Nathan disappears from the window only to reappear again at the glass sliding doors with an emotionless expression blanketing his features.
"Don't take it personally, he's not usually this stroppy. I think he's just stressed out from preparing for my mother's parole hearing." I defend my guardian with an innocent shrug. "He needs a holiday." I tack on with a quiet laugh.
"Well, you're not wrong. Don't you worry though Kenzie, I know how to sort him out." She says with a wink as I climb of the trampoline and follow her across the lawn towards the house.
"What are you doing here Chelsea?" Nathan asks as we approach the back sliding doors.
"I'm here for a surprise check in Nathan." She shoots back in response making Nathan's eyebrows raise further up his forehead in disbelief. Obviously, he wasn't expecting her to undertake the routine checkups considering the fact that they work for the same agency and it is common knowledge that Nathan is a massive stickler for the rules, especially when it comes to something as serious as his role as a foster carer.
"Seriously?"
"Hell yes, Nathan. The continued quality of Mackenzie's safety and care is my responsibility and I take it very seriously." Chelsea crosses her arms against her chest as if challenging him to disagree.
"Oh, well a bit of notice would have been appreciated." Nathan huffs slightly annoyed by the inconvenient timing of her sudden appearance.
"Well, if I were to give you prior notice it wouldn't be a surprise check in would it, Nathan?" She retorts with an amused smile, finding some kind of fun in winding him up. "Besides, I wanted to speak privately with Kenzie without any distractions before commencing my inspection of her living conditions."
At the mention of the word "inspection" Nathan raises his eyebrows in shock, but none the less, he graciously nods his head and replaces his annoyed frown with a semi-friendly smile. These days Nathan seems almost as tired as I am, but instead of being plagued by nightmares, he has buried himself in his work and both he and Will have reverted back to spending every spare moment in the home office. Chris has done his best to stay present with the rest of us, but with his wacky shift pattern recently, there have been several nights where it has just been James, Mitchell and I at the dinner table. I don't have a problem with this arrangement, but the rest of us have noticed that Nathan becomes a lot grumpier than usual when he is tired and I am worried that his crankiness is going to give Chelsea the wrong idea.
"Yeah, no that's fine. I'm sorry for being snappy, I just wasn't expecting company on such short notice." Nathan apologises with a tired sigh before stepping to the side and gesturing for her to enter the house. "Come on in, we're just about to have dinner if you would like to join us."
"Oh? I might have to take you up on that offer because it smells really good in here." Chelsea replies smoothly as we walk in and Nathan closes the door behind us.
Mitchell and James are both in the kitchen and at the sight of our visitor they both call out a brief greeting before returning to the tasks in front of them. James looks to be seasoning some type of meat while Mitchell is chopping a piece of broccoli into smaller pieces. I vaguely remember him mentioning something about a salad he was going to make, so I wouldn't be surprised if that is what he is preparing.
Will, who has been almost invisible over the past couple of days decides to make an appearance at this moment and after a short but friendly reintroduction, he makes his way over to the table where Chris is already seated and deposits himself in one of the empty seats.
"So what brings you here Chelsea?"
"Surprise check in." She responds with a casual shrug, leaning her hip against the edge of the kitchen island.
"At this time of the night?" Will asks skeptically, checking the time on his watch as he does.
"Well I have been here for about an hour already, but yes. I was in the area for another reason and thought it would be a good idea to drop in and see how things are going with Kenzie." She defends her decision while aiming her own skeptical look back in return "Are you worried that I'm going to find something here that I shouldn't?"
"No, not at all." Will responds immediately.
"Are you sure? Because after the chat Kenzie and I just had, you should be worried."
Nathan, Will and Chris all look to me for some indication that she is telling the truth, but I am just as lost as they are right now. I don't remember saying anything to Chelsea that could raise a possible red flag so the instant spike of adrenaline that pulses through my veins is completely unwelcome. Seeing my sudden discomfort with the situation, Chelsea makes her way over to me and whispers her next words low enough for only me to hear.
"You have nothing to worry about Kenzie. Please trust me on this, I promise you will understand in a minute."
Remembering that I said I would give her a chance, I nod my head in response, indicating that I am willing to trust her on this occasion. The resounding smile she gives me in return makes me relax slightly, but the sudden lack of adrenaline leaves me feeling almost completely drained of energy.
"If it's alright with you guys, I would like to have a quick look around." Chelsea declares, turning sharply on her toes so that she is facing at least two of my three guardians.
"Go ahead." Nathan nods in approval, joining Chris and Will at the table once he is done talking.
At his approval, Chelsea takes herself on a self-guided tour of the kitchen, opening and closing draws, checking out the pantry and scouring over every inch of both the fridge and freezer. Every now and then she will make a noise of disapproval and once she has finished rifling around the rest of the kitchen, carefully avoiding James and Mitchell's personal space in the process, she walks around the island bench and perches herself on one of the stools facing the men at the table.
"I'm afraid things here are much worse than I thought they were." Chelsea says placing extra emphasis on the "much". Her admission gains everyone's immediate attention and if she hadn't given me prior indication that she was just stirring with them, I probably would have felt worried for the men I live with.
"You're joking, right?" Will asks before looking over to Nathan for some type of reassurance that they are both on the same. Until now, neither of them have had any reason to be concerned, but now that Chelsea is staring them down like a judge in a courtroom, it is evident that they are starting to feel the pressure of the situation weighing down on them.
"Absolutely not. I just did a brief inspection of your kitchen and do you know what I found, William?" She questions him with a piercing stare.
"A ton of good quality food that can be used to make healthy, nutritious meals?" He responds almost sarcastically, folding his hands on top of the table in front of him.
"Wrong!" She shakes her head in response.
"Then what did you find?" Chris asks, looking mildly uncomfortable by her accusatory stare.
"A soul crushing load of boringness, that's what." She huffs in exasperation, throwing her hands up before continuing on to elaborate further. "Where are the potato chips, and the lollies and chocolate? Where is the ice-cream and the two-minute noodles, and all the frozen chicken nuggets? All I found in your pantry was this packet of chocolate chips and even those are ninety nine percent sugar free."
Nathan and Will both share the same look of disbelief on their faces as they continue to assess whether Chelsea is actually being serious with them, but from the unwavering stare they receive from Chelsea in return makes them realise quite quickly that Chelsea isn't playing around. Chris on the other hand, knowing exactly what she is trying to say relaxes back in his seat. After all, he is the one who provides the contraband often found in my lunchbox.
"So let me get this straight, you're getting all twisted out of shape because we want to ensure that Kenzie is eating a healthy, nutritionally balanced diet instead of drowning her in sugar and preservatives?" Nathan asks once he has taken enough time to think up a response.
"Nathan, you absolute dingus." Chelsea sighs, shaking her head while covering her eyes with her fingers as if she is horrified by his response. "Kenzie is a child who has been deprived of almost every basic joy that that this world has to give, and although you think you are doing the right thing here, you're totally missing the bigger picture."
"I still don't understand what the problem is."
"Ok, why don't we try this instead." She suggests before turning towards me and playfully rolling her eyes. "Kenzie, how many times in your life have you eaten pizza?"
"Twice, that I can remember." I answer feeling unsure of my answer.
"Does that include the one we made here the other week?" Will asks taken aback by my answer.
"Yes." I nod.
"So, you've only ever had it from a fast-food store once?" Chelsea presses, leaning forward slightly as she waits for me to answer.
"No, actually. Both times were home made." I vaguely remember making pizzas with Mishka and Sadhil, only they made their pizza bases from cauliflower and some type of multigrain flour.
"What about meat pies or sausage rolls? How many times have you had those?" She asks again, testing her theory with another type of food.
What's a sausage roll?" I answer feeling embarrassed by my own lack of knowledge.
"I rest my case." Chelsea declares, leaning back in her stool as she watches the other men's reactions to my answer.
Chris and Nathan both look dumbstruck by my answer, clearly not aware that my experiences with junk food have been as limited as I just mentioned. I guess it is easy for them to assume that I have tried all of these different foods because that is what they and any other normal child or teenager would have done at my age, but I'm not normal. Things like sausage rolls and chicken nuggets are luxuries that kids like me have only dreamed of trying, and if I have learned anything from my time in foster care it is that food is food, regardless of how bad it tastes.
"Ok, I think I understand what you mean now. We might have been a bit extreme on the healthy diet approach." Will admits, looking extremely conflicted by the results of the younger woman's test interview.
"Thank the lord! He has seen the light!" Chelsea cheers with a triumphant smile, her point obviously well made.
"We will try to be more lenient with Kenzie's food choices in the future." Will concedes with a grim nod.
"You better be, because If the next time I come back here there isn't at least one packet of chicken nuggets in your freezer, I'm going to have to report you to my boss." She says in a warning tone.
"Roger that."
"Cool, now that we have that out of the way... How are you guys? I feel like so much has happened since the last time I saw you all." Chelsea switches from being serious to friendly in less than a second and the sudden change in her personality is enough to give us all whiplash.
Eventually, after Chelsea makes it clear that she has finished terrorising them over their poor decisions, Nathan and the rest of them finally succumb to the temptation of having a friendly conversation. Mostly they use the time to catch up with each other, but there are also a few other more important topics thrown into the mix as well, like the parole hearing and some doctors' appointments Chelsea had scheduled for me to attend in the next couple of weeks.
I basically just ignore it all and focus my attention on the younger men who have been floating around the kitchen preparing our dinner the entire time, and not falling asleep. When James finally calls out that dinner is ready, Will excuses himself from the table with the excuse that he has to get back to work whilst the other remaining adults at the table stand up from their places to help serve the food. At some point during their conversation, Nathan convinces Chelsea to stay for dinner and because she still had something else she wanted to discuss with them in private, she agreed.
The conversation at the dinner table is much the same as it had been before, except this time James and Mitchell also add their piece when the topic of discussion suits them. Somehow, the topic shifts towards birthdays and I figure that whilst there is another female in the room, I have a better chance of finding out what is an acceptable gift for a girl my age.
"Maddie's birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks and if I am going to her party then I will probably have to get her a gift or something. What do you even buy someone who is turning sixteen anyway?" I ask, scrunching my face up in confusion.
"Actually, Maddie is turning fifteen this year." Chris interjects as he scoops another spoonful of the salad Mitchell made on to his place.
"Did she start school early, or did I start school late? because if I'm looking at this right, I turned sixteen a few months ago and I'm super confused right now."
"The answer is neither. You actually repeated kindergarten Kenzie. After the incident where you lost all of your memories, the state couldn't determine whether you had retained any of the knowledge you had gained while you had been in kindergarten and so they decided that it would be the safer option to have you repeat the level, hence why you are over a year older than the majority of your peers." Chelsea explains without a moments hesitation.
Well, I wish I could say that I'm surprised by this tid bit of information, but considering everything else that I have learned about my life since living here, this doesn't come close to making the earth shake. At this point, I don't think there is anything else that can top what I have already uncovered so far, and even if there is something bigger to be discovered then I'm sure it couldn't be much worse than being diagnosed with DID and learning that my parents tried to kill me.
"That makes a lot of sense. Thank you."
"Why are you thanking me?" She asks confused.
"Because you didn't make me feel stupid for not knowing." It's happened before, and unfortunately my case workers seem to be the worst at it. There are a lot of things in my life that don't make sense to me, mainly because I am missing chunks of my memory, but the whole situation has only been made worse by the agency and government's reluctance to share their information with me.
"And you actually shared something with me that no one else in the agency would have." I add, voicing my thoughts so that she can better understand where I am coming from. Having spent a slice of her life in the same situation, she might have experienced something similar with her case workers.
"I'm sorry that the agency has treated you the way it has Kenzie. I will do everything I can to be more transparent with you from now on. In fact, if there is anything about yourself or your previous placements that you would like to ask about, I am more than happy to try and find an answer for you." She responds with a sad smile.
"Did any of my complaints ever get processed? I can remember making several of them, especially over the last few placements, but after the whole court fiasco with the graffiti thing I feel like everything I did after that was just swept under the rug." I have always wanted to know whether my hunch about my case workers has been correct, and if Chelsea is willing to give me answers then what do I have to lose by asking?
"You made formal complaints to the agency about some of your previous foster families?" Chris asks before Chelsea can answer.
"Yes, she did. Fifty seven of them to be exact, and over half of them were never entered into the system." Chelsea answers both of our questions in one go, and the way that her lips are pressed into a thin line after she speaks leads me to believe that she is less than impressed by her own answer.
"What the hell? I thought it was mandatory for case workers to investigate when formal complaints are made by foster children about their carers." Chris says, turning towards Nathan for confirmation that his assumption is correct.
"It is." Nathan answers grimly, looking just as pissed off about this information as Chelsea does.
"Despite the agency having clear protocols in place, there are still some cases that fall through the cracks and unfortunately Kenzie's is one of them." Chelsea explains with a deflated sigh.
There is an uncomfortable silence around the table as the rest of its occupants process the severity of what has just been shared, but for me this is just another thing on a list of many that I am not surprised by. I had known that there had been at least a few of my complaints that were buried, but now that extent of the agency's mismanagement of my file is clear, I can't bring myself to be angry about it even though I have clear grounds to be more than a little pissed off. I just hope that the complaints that were processed were in relation to some of the worser placements.
"There was one placement... I mean I don't remember much, I think Alex or Serenity must have taken over for most of it, but there was this one family I was placed with and they were...not nice people..." I trail off with a shudder, wincing at the memories of some of the things I do remember from that placement. "I think I made about five or six complaints about them alone."
The husband and wife duo that had made up one of my many former foster families had been one of the worst that I can remember. Over the years I had found that if I was in a particularly bad placement then usually it would be either the "mother" or the "father" that took it upon themselves to be the abuser in the situation. At this placement however, they had both been as bad as each other and between the two of them they had managed to cause enough damage that by the time I left that place, not only had I developed my intense fear of closed off rooms, but I had also learned for certain that not everybody who looks friendly is a nice person.
Both of those carers had been professionals, one being a highly commended school teacher in their small town, and the other a police officer. What should have been a safe home, turned out to be a place of nightmares, and because they had been so highly esteemed by the public and almost everyone who could have been a witness, my calls for help were for the larger part ignored. I had only been pulled out of that placement after I went "missing" for almost three weeks, sparking an amber alert and major man hunt when the agency finally found out that I had ran away.
"From what I saw on your file, those particular complaints were thoroughly investigated and the carers involved were blacklisted by the government from fostering again in the future." Chelsea nods, answering the question that I didn't ask out loud.
That's something at least. Unbeknownst to me, at the time I was in their care I had multiple alters hidden within my mind that could take over when the abuse was at its worse, I can't imagine what it would have been like for any other child to be in the same placement as I was without that extra coping mechanism to built in to protect them. To know that those people are no longer allowed to take in foster children is a major relief, even if they were never brought to justice in a court of law.
"That's good, I'm glad."
"It's still not right, but I agree with you." James comments, speaking up for the first time since the conversation started. No doubt he has been sitting here observing and analysing everyone's reactions the entire time we have been talking, but I don't mind. Having him sit quietly beside me during these types of conversations is kind of comforting and I know that if things get too overwhelming he is always there to step in an neutralise the situation.
"I just don't understand why nobody would look into this." Mitchell who has also been relatively quiet through the meal, speaks up, obviously thrown off balance by the information both Chelsea and I have shared tonight.
There is an innocence in his question that reminds me of just how normal Mitchell's upbringing really was. It is clear that he hasn't been exposed to anything remotely close to the lifestyle I have lived for the past ten years, and for that I am relieved. However, at the same time I feel sad knowing that whatever anybody says next is going to crush whatever faith he has left in our country's child protection program.
"Because they didn't believe me." I answer while rubbing tiredly at my burning eyes. "Nobody believes me."
"I believe you, Kenzie. Every single complaint that I read in your file was real, and they should have been properly investigated by the agency." Chelsea declares, offering me the support and reassurance I wish I had been given when I had made the complaints in question.
"Damn right they should have!" Nathan scoffs in discontent, his mama bear mode beginning to creep out as the conversation progresses.
"Why wouldn't they believe you? You're actually one of the most honest people I have met." Mitchell continues, ignoring Nathan's outburst altogether.
"Most of the complaints stopped being reported about two years ago, and from my calculations that was around the same time you were in court over the whole destruction of property incident that occurred with one of your former foster carers."
"I thought that would be the case." I nod to myself as Chelsea confirms what I had thought to be true the entire time.
"If you don't mind me asking, what triggered your alter to appear on that occasion? I think we are all fairly certain that Alexander was the one behind the graffiti attack, but I'm guessing there was something that happened to make him take over the way he did."
I have never been given the opportunity to explain my side of the story before, mostly because the lawyer who had acted on my case was a know it all douche bag and made it almost impossible for anybody to believe a word of what I had to say, and also because I had never fully understood what had happened myself.
"The person whose drive way Alex defaced wasn't exactly as innocent as he was made out to be."
"Did he do something to you?" Chris bristles like a porcupine at his own question.
"He didn't physically attack me or anything like that, but he did have a problem with maintaining his temper. It was my belongings that took the brunt of his mood swings and although I didn't own anything of real value, Some of the items he destroyed held significant sentimental value.
Most notably, I had this stuffed lamb named Rosemary. She was given to me as a present on my fourth birthday and she was the most priceless, irreplaceable thing that I had ever owned. One day during one of his rampages he tore her up right in front of me. I don't think anybody will ever understand how important that lamb was, but when that man destroyed her, Alex must have taken it upon himself to get us justice and the rest is pretty self explanatory."
"Why didn't you tell the Magistrate about this? None of this was mentioned in the court report." Nathan asks with a frown while leaning his arms on top of the table.
"My lawyer took it upon himself to tell everyone in court that my version of events were a fabricated lie and that I was more than likely guilty of the offence that I had been charged with. I had no memories of what had happened so I never admitted to the offence. Naturally the magistrate took my lawyers word for it and I was formally convicted." I shrug in response. What's done is done and there is nothing that can be done to change the outcome.
"Everything about what you just said is messed up beyond comprehension. I can't even begin to understand what was going through that lawyer's head to make him think that his approach was even remotely acceptable under the circumstances." Chris shakes his head in a mixture of disbelief and disgust.
I agree with him, as does everyone else at the table, but it still doesn't change the fact that it sill happened. Getting upset about it is only going to make me feel bitter in the end and I have had enough of feeling angry about things that are out of my control.
"It doesn't matter anymore Chris. I have made peace with what happened and I just want to leave it all behind me and move on with my life."
"It's still wrong." Nathan grinds out through clenched teeth.
"I don't disagree with you, but this is my normal. I can't change the way other people choose to treat me and neither can you. As long as you know the truth then I am ok with the rest of the world thinking whatever they want about me." I say, stacking my knife and fork on top of my empty plate along with the dirty serviette I used to clean my face and hands.
"By the way Mitchell, that broccoli salad was awesome." I add, diverting the conversation towards another topic before Nathan and Chris lose their minds. Neither of them look happy with the fact that I had cut the conversation short, but they also refrain from pushing it any further knowing that I am too exhausted to give the conversation the attention they think it deserves.
"Thanks, Mack, but I still think your cooking is way better." Mitchell grins in response, silently telling me that he has my back.
"Well, we are going to be watching a movie shortly after this if you would like to stay?" Nathan follows Mitchell's example, aiming his question at Chelsea who looks to still be deep in thought from the previous conversation.
"No that's fine. I have to drive back into the city to my apartment and I don't want to encroach any further on your family time. However, I would like to speak with the both of you and Will privately if that is alright?" Chelsea says, gesturing towards Chris and Nathan while fixing them with a look I can't quite decipher.
"Sure, no problems." Nathan agrees immediately, nodding his head as he does before turning back towards the rest of us. "Why don't you three head into the living room and pick a movie and the rest of us will join you as soon as we are finished?" He suggests, aiming his words more at me than anybody else.
James and Mitchell both nod in response and in my exhausted state I find myself following along like a sheep, bobbing my head up and down out of instinct. I don't even care that their private conversation is more than likely to do with me, I'm so tired that I just want to curl up on the lounge and snooze my life away.
"Save me a spot on the lounge, ok?" Chris asks quietly as the three of them stand up from the table and stack their plates together at the end closest to where Will usually sits.
Holding back a yawn, I nod my head in response and watch as the three of them make their way down the hall towards the office where Will is already tucked away working. Mitchell mumbles something about them leaving all the cool people behind, but I'm too tired to try and register his humour. Instead, I settle for collecting the plates that have already been stacked together on the table as the other two make their way over to the sink to start cleaning up.
"Go upstairs and change into your pajamas, Mitchell and I have got this one." James stops me from approaching the sink before I can even pass the island bench.
"But I want to help." They cooked dinner so it seems a bit unfair that they should have to clean up afterwards as well.
"I know kiddo, and we appreciate that you want to chip in, but there isn't much left for us to do in here tonight." He responds with a sweet smile as he takes the dirty plates out of my hands. "Besides, I'm sure that by the time you have cleaned yourself up and changed into your pajamas, the others will be finished with their pow wow and we can start our movie."
Not seeing any way of convincing him to let me stay, I swallow another yawn which makes my eyes water painfully, before shuffling my way around the back of the kitchen island towards the exit. The stairs seem steep than usual, and by the time I have reached the top I am almost completely zapped of energy.
My brain and my body are both on autopilot as I change out of my uniform and into my comfy summer pajamas. The nights have started to become too clammy for my liking and the further into the season we go the worse the temperatures are going to become. The hotter the nights are, the less clothing I have to wear to remain cool, and the feeling of being exposed both physically and mentally without any means to protect myself from my demons, is almost too much to bear.
My nightmares tend to be more vicious in the summer months and although over the past few years I have grown accustomed to the haphazardous sleep cycle the nightmares often cause, these past six months have exposed me to parts of my past that I wouldn't have thought could be real. As a result I am afraid that all these new pieces of information are only going to add fuel to the already raging inferno that has become of my dreams.
Grabbing Basil off my bed, I hold him tight to my chest as I make my way back down the stairs towards the living room. The kitchen is empty, indicating that James and Mitchell have finished cleaning up the dining room and when I enter the living room I am unsurprised to find them both sitting on the floor in front of the TV finishing off whatever game they had been playing earlier this afternoon.
Walking past my usual spot, I make my way across the room to the long section of lounge closest to the TV and ease myself down onto the cushiony fabric. The sound of me sitting down alerts James and Mitchell that I am in the room and he surprised look on their faces at my choice of lounge space almost makes me laugh. I would bet almost anything that this exact reaction is what Chris would have been dying to see all week and the fact that he is missing it only makes this moment more perfect.
As if sensing my thoughts, Chris and Nathan suddenly appear in the entrance to the living room and upon seeing me already perched on the lounge, a giant smile breaks out across Chris's already smug face as he makes his way across the room to join me. Nathan doesn't even protest my decision to sit next to Chris, instead a small smile graces his face as he occupies the spot I usually sit in.
"Are you comfy there, Kenzie?" Chris asks quietly as he adjusts himself beside me so that he is close but not touching. I can feel the warmth emanating off his body and in my exhausted state of mind I find myself longing to snuggle in closer and feel the comfort and protection his giant arms have to offer.
"Yeah, I'm good." I nod sluggishly, forcing myself to keep my eyes open long enough for them to find a movie.
"Do you want to pick the movie, Mack?"
"You can pick it." I shake my head while concealing yet another giant yawn.
Nathan suggests that we should watch a comedy, and when the rest of them agree it doesn't take them long to decide on the movie that they want to watch. I just curl my legs up on top of the lounge, press my face into Basil's soft fur and wait for them to turn the lights off.
I don't even make it five minutes in to the movie before my eyes start to droop and my head lolls back further against the back of the lounge. It's not the comfiest position to fall asleep in, but the only other option is to invade Chris's personal space and I don't want to be a bother and trap him if I do manage to fall asleep.
Several more minutes pass by and with each one my resolve begins to crumble further until I am no longer able to stop myself. Leaning myself against his side, I let myself melt into Chris's warmth, not even flinching when he wraps one of his heavy arms around my body so that I am snuggled tightly against his chest. Cuddling with Chris is like cuddling a giant teddy bear and the more I let myself relax, the cosier and safer I begin to feel. Even Nathan's hug doesn't compare to this, and as I lay in the safety of Chris's warm embrace I decide here and now that this can be his new role.
No longer will he be Chris the expert lunch box packer, he will now be Chris the snuggly human teddy bear.
"Go to sleep, cupcake. Basil and I have got you." Chris whispers lowly, gently running his fingers through the tips of my hair, being extra careful not to make any contact with my skin.
The relaxing feeling that takes over my body at his action feels foreign to me, but not in a bad way and as Chris continues to play with my hair I feel myself begin to sink deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of unconsciousness. Then finally, after what feels like an eternity in my mind the background noise fades away completely and I am pulled below the surface of my mind into the inky pool darkness below.
Hello lovely readers :)
Thank you for being so patient with me while waiting for me to finish this chapter. The last few weeks have been super busy for me and between my work and family commitments I have had next to no time to sit down and focus on my writing.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter :) If you see any typos or mistakes please feel free to point them out :)
Thanks for sticking around this far into the story. I honestly can't believe it now has over 40,000 reads. You are all amazing and your continued support is greatly appreciated <3
Stay safe and have a wonderful day/night wherever you are in the world :) <3