I sat in the holding cell stressing out. It feels like I've been in here forever. This is going to become my reality .... jail. My record will no longer be clean, life's going to be 10x harder after this. Oh wait I'm probably marked a runaway, so much for a clean record.

On the bright side I'll have guaranteed meals and shelter.

Somehow that wasn't making me feel any better. I'm tired of always looking on the bright side. It's hard to find good when you live one struggle to the next, if it isn't one thing it's another. It's getting to the point where I don't even want to be here anymore.

Hope was something I'm running out of, yet the hate for this world is constantly growing. I'm starting to hate happy people. I'm starting to hate my birth parents. I hate every foster care I've been to. I know I shouldn't hold so much hate but I can't help it.

I heard the cell door opening causing me to look down and keep fiddling with my fingers. "Mariah Lynn your free to go." The officer spoke causing my head to shoot up.

How the hell am I free? I doubt any of my foster parents came got me, and I don't know anyone else. Besides if it is one of my foster parents I'd rather stay here. I haven't had a good experience with foster homes since I was about 5.

I sheepishly followed behind the officer, they gave me the things they took and I came face to face with the woman who I robbed. Apart of me felt guilty, but for the most part I didn't care. It isn't like I got away, I did the crime and I feel like I did enough time.

They gave her the duffle bag and some papers, as I followed them into a room.

"Ms.Valentine here has dropped the charges against you and wants to adopt you." I furrowed my eyebrows and didn't say anything as he continued. "Are you okay with that?"

As soon as I opened my mouth to say no Mrs.Valentine shot me a look that could kill, as if she was daring me to say no. I immediately closed my mouth feeling the tension in the room. She kept glaring, so I glared back challenging her. I'll never trust another person to be my guardian, I don't want to be adopted. Not now, not ever.

The officer continued breaking the awkward silence. "I'll be honest with you hun. Your best bet is to say yes. If you say no your chargers will move forward. Maybe if the judge feels bad for you, you'll do a little time in juvie then you'll be sent back to foster care. With a record like that it's unlikely you'll get adopted. Saying yes could be a chance at a forever home."

I took a deep breath and thought about it for a few seconds. "well... yes." I didn't want this because I know I'll just be right back in foster care. I plan on running away as soon as I get the chance. Foster care's my biggest fear. Once you go in the system your lucky if you get a good foster home. Most people just take in children for the checks, then mistreat us.

"You don't have a last name.. do you want to take mine or make your own?" Mrs.Valentine asked me and I sighed.

"I'll just take yours" I answered hoping I'll be gone before she can turn in the papers. Nobody's ever cared enough to give me a last name and I no longer want one.

Bright side Mariah, Shelter. Maybe if she's nice she'll feed me.

We got into her car and I buckled my seat belt waiting for her to start. I was looking down playing with my fingers as we drove to her house in silence.

I followed behind her into the house. "Have a seat on the sofa, ima go make us some supper. Feel free to turn on the television." She said walking into the kitchen, and I nodded.

I sat on the couch, still playing with my fingers. It was something I did frequently when I was nervous. I didn't feel comfortable touching the tv, so I just sat there staring off into space.

"Mariah." someone said shaking me awake. I opened my eyes to Ms.Valentine and the memories came flooding back. Darn, it wasn't a dream.

"Come on the foods done." she said giving a welcoming smile. I hazily followed her into the kitchen. "You hungry, any allergies?"

"No, I'm ok. Yeah, I have a peanut allergy." I lied. I wanted to eat, I just didn't want to get too comfortable here.

As if on cue my stomach let out a growl. Causing my cheeks to flush with embarrassment. She chuckled and started fixing a plate. When she was done she placed it in front of me along with a bottle of water.

She fixed herself some food then sat across from me. After about 5 minutes passed of me not eating and her looking at me she spoke. "I promise my food not nasty, just try it." I didn't respond because it wasn't about that. I'm nowhere near a picky eater, if it's food I'll most likely eat it. I just didn't want to get to comfortable, didn't want to get my hopes up and have them crushed.

"How'd you end up on the streets?" Again I didn't respond.

"How old are you?"

"Didn't they give you a file with all that in there"

"Yeah, but I didn't read it. I wanted to hear it from you." she said causing me to roll my eyes.

"Keep rolling them and they gone get stuck back there."

"then I won't have to see you." I mumbled lowly making sure she didn't hear me.

"What? Speak up."

"Nothing." I smirked and she mugged me.

"Whatever. Let's try this again, how old are you?"

"13."

"Now was that so hard?"

"Yes, it was."

"You smot." she laughed.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

She sighed. "I'm too old to be arguing with a 13 year old."

"You just did."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Whatever, just eat your food we got things to do tomorrow." I stared at her blankly and she iffed at me causing me to laugh.

"You funny." I complimented.

"I know." She smiled.

"Let's not get cocky."

I ate my food and smiled, luckily I won't be here tomorrow.

"When's the last time you went to school."

"When I ran away... so at 11."

"That's gotta change, we're getting you into school ASAP."

My eyes lit up at the thought of school but the look quickly disappeared. Nope, I'm not staying here. "That's cool."

"What's your first name?" I asked her changing the subject. I don't want to give myself false hope.

"Anita." She answered and I laughed at the name.

"It was different back then. In my day people were named stuff like Bertha, Gretal, Patrice, etc. so my name was normal at the time."

When I finished eating I thanked her and she gave me some night clothes.

I took my shower and put on the clothes she gave me. When I was done she took my hair down and washed it. My hair was in a horrible condition, it was barley shoulder length, extremely thin, dry, and it was almost always in a bun. It felt like heaven on earth having it properly washed.

"How'd you do your hair while you were homeless?"

"Umm.. most of the time I wouldn't. I washed it like once every few months by putting water in my head from hoses onside peoples houses. Other than that I had some grease. I'd use it like once a week so it wouldn't get dry enough to break too much, then I'd wear it up in a bun or ponytail until it was time for more." I answered. I tried my best to keep up with my hair, but there was limited product so there wasn't much I could do. Plus, I had bigger things to worry about than hair like my next meal.

"Jesus Christ how'd you get a comb through here." She mumbled combing my hair out.

"I didn't have a comb." It hurt so bad that my lip was quivering, I wanted to cry but I was scared of how she'd react so I sucked it up.

"Does this hurt?" She asked.

"Nope." I lied voice cracking in the process. She turned my head and looked at me with a frown.

"Why didn't you say it hurt if it hurts." I just shrugged and she started being more gentle.

"So your tender headed I see."

"What's that?"

She explained it to me and I nodded letting her finish.