This is a start on a new book idea I have for foster children. It will continue with the child's search for his or her family (haven't decided on the gender yet) and will end on a positive and upbeat note.
I'm writing it for an 8 to 10 year old audience. That's about the age foster kids are usually told.
I hope it will help foster children learn to accept and deal with what, for me, was a traumatic revelation.
Today, I was told I am a foster child. The people I thought were my family, aren’t. The boy who shared so many good and bad times, isn’t my brother.
I think that hurts even more than knowing my parents aren’t my mom and dad.
We learned to ice skate together. When our dog died, we comforted each other. We played store with empty boxes and cans. He taught me to read. He outgrew his clothes and they were passed down to me. When I wore them, I pretended I was him, as if in wearing them, I could capture some of the magic that was my big brother. Can we ever be close again?
I was told I am special because I was chosen. I wonder how that makes him feel.
Even my toys seem to be mocking me. My favorite teddy with the perpetual smile is laughing at me. I asked my mom, who is not my mom, to give them all away.
I feel like I have been living a lie.
Tomorrow is a school day. Do the other kids already know? Maybe that’s why they think I am weird. I think I’ll pretend to be sick. Maybe I won’t have to pretend. I feel sick.