Losing my brother in the family meant that the only ones left were us girls. Any normal family would say they had to stick together. But there was far from happiness under my roof.. but then again, that was my normal.

Who knew that getting beaten with broom handles, cable wires, fists, and anything else in arms reach could be the most painful things around? My sister and I unfortunately had the opportunity to find out. With my mom always drugged up it was left up to me to take care of my sister. She was after all the only person I had left. My mom had isolated us from the rest of the family. After all she couldn't let anybody see the bruises we were covered in. During the school year she always made sure to have our marks covered by whatever we were wearing. And we never told a soul about what was happening at home.

Until one night, I got brave. I guess I thought I was trying to do everyone a favor. I dont truly remember this night on my own, only from what the adults have told me. I waited until the middle of the night for my mom to be passed out on the couch as she always was and I tried to light her blanket on fire 6 times with the lighter she left out. I don't know if it was fear or just plain dumb. But it didn't work either way. This all happened at about 1 in the morning. Right after I called my moms best friend and left a voice mail on her machine stating that "I tried to kill my mom but it wouldn't work". Nobody found out about this until the next morning.

I was scared shitless. My mom didn't send me, nor my sister to school today. We weren't sick. Our bruises from the last beating were finally clearing up so why are we home?

I remember it was about noon time. I was in my sisters room, her sitting in my lap while we played with our toys. My mom called us out into the living room and said that no matter what she will always love us and that we were going away for a sleepover, in the moment we just didn't fully understand that she wasn't coming with us. I remember the social worker having 2 officers come upstairs and wait around while I packed me and my sister some clothes and toys for our sleepover. My mom said we would all be together again soon, that she needed to help to be able to take care of us again.

Who knew that, that wouldn't be for another 3 years.

3 years. 13 different homes. 13 different families. 13 different towns and schools. 13 different sets of rules to obey. All stuffed into 3 years. Fuck that.

About a year into foster care and I finally started getting weekend visits back home with my mom. It was a lot of fun lost of the time. My mom wasn't drinking or doing any lines. She was happier and was very kind compared to the woman I said goodbye to a year prior. Unfortunately for myself I ended up on my own though. My sister was ripped away from me, and I saw her maybe twice I'm the 2 years to follow. She was thrown around even more than I was. 17 homes in 3 years and 2 group homes. They all treated her like shit, as they had me. The last home we were in together, our foster moms name was Beverly. She was nice, but super strict about everything.. my sister was about 4ish at this time. It was about 11pm and my sister started throwing a tantrum, major because nobody would turn a light on for her. It was pitch black in the room we were stuck in. I didn't make a peep except for the minor "shh" I was giving my sister to try and calm her down. It didn't work. Beverly, this woman who took us in. Who was being paid to take care of us, took my 4 year old sister and made her stand outside in our backyard all alone in the middle of the night. To make matters worse, we lived in a heavy coyote area and Beverly had horses. A usual coyote snack if you don't take care of your pets. For a good hour my baby sister was screaming in my back window begging for help. It was cold. It was dark. And this bitch was just plain cruel. Only a couple days went by and I saw my sister for the last time for the next couple of months, when Beverly decided she wouldn't keep her anymore. Where were they taking her? When would I see her again? Who is going to take care of her if I'm not with her? She was all I had left... and then I had nothing.

About another 6 months had gone by and things were okay. I still hadn't completely gotten over the fact that my sister was gone yet and I guess you could say I learned my role in that house from that night with my sister and following. I guess in a way you could say I was the perfect child. But I was truthfully just afraid of what they would do to me if I stepped out of line. I still didnt know where they actually brought my sister.

This one day things finally seemed like they were looking up. I was on a home visit for the weekend with my mom. She seemed better. She wasnt drunk or fucked up. She was the exact opposite actually, compared to what I was used to.. she was kind and loving and like a true mom. I remember sitting on the floor while she played with my hair when she asked me "Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" In my opinion I always go for the bad news first so I can make myself feel better with the good news. She handed my a newspaper article and told me to just read it. My heart shattered in seconds. It was an obituary for my Uncle Joe, who happened to be my best friend, the only adult in my life to never fail me was gone. The article didn't explain much, but it was a suicide. He was battling depression and nobody saw it. The worst part out of all of it, I wasnt allowed to go to the funeral and my social worker wouldnt allow my mom to even tell me he had passed. I didn't find out until about 8 months after. The good news, I was going to be coming home for good in just a few short weeks!

Those "few short weeks" were the longest days to pass by. I just wanted to go home with my mom and sister and move on. Until i got home and learned that my sister wasnt coming back, that is. Why just me? Why isn't my sister coming home? Why won't they let her come back? Isn't my mom better? Isn't that why they let me come home? It didnt make any sense to me. Why me?

I guess it was a one-at-a-time kind of thing. I was back on track. Going to a new school, but back at home and actually feeling secure and happy again. My sister would be home in 2 months tops, as far as my mom knew anyways..

It was a regular day. School had just started, the teachers were calling out students names to make sure everybody was there and I got pulled to the nurse office. When I first went in I thought it was just a normal conversation to just make sure things were going good. She asked me if I knew a blonde woman named Erin and I had told her that she was my social worker. The nurse then got up and opened the door, with none other than Erin to be let in.

From what I remember, the conversation was short and straight to the point.

"I talked to your mom and were going to have to bring you to a new family today, you're mom says that she hates you and she doesnt want anything to do with you anymore."

Just like that, I was ripped from the perfect life I had been begging for. Where did I go wrong? Did I forget to clean my room? Did I make mommy mad? Did I forget my clothes or toys on the floor again? I just wanted a reason. Nobody had one.

I didnt find out for another year and a half, when my sister and I were finally sent back home, what truly happened on that day. Erin walked into my school and lied to my face. She told me that she talked to my mom, which was a lie. She told me my mom hated me and didn't want me anymore. I believed her and didn't talk to my mom for a good month. It was a lie. Instead of helping fix families, Erin was more than pleased to rip them apart. My mom was tricked into signing abandonment papers, signing away her rights to my sister and I. My mom never even knew I was brought back into foster care that day until 5 hours later when she went to pick me up from school.

Luckily enough for the sake of our lives, we got assigned a new social worker. Unfortunately I don't remember her name but she wasn't Erin and that was good enough for all of us. She actually seemed to listen to us about how we felt about things. She was actually helping my mom be a better mom. And my favorite part, she helped reunite us with my sister again.

All I wanted from the second I got torn from my sister, was to have my sister back. I fought to the tooth and nail to make sure she was protected. When we was finally able to come home I was more than thrilled but for some reason she wasnt. She was different. She was mean. And she didnt want anything to do with me anymore. She had been the only person I was more worried about than my own self. And she know barely wanted to hold a conversation with me, nevermind hold my hand and be my best friend as we were our entire lives before being split up. It was okay though. My mom said it was pretty much the trauma and instability that I just had to give her some time.