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- 10/04/2017
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
J.A.M. - 1. Chapter 1
J.A.M.
By Wesley Evans
Entry 1
Well, once again I’m in the car heading for yet another foster home. Should probably start by telling you who I am and why I’m heading to another foster home. Well, I’m Jacob Aaron Michaels, but the few friends I have call me Jam. The reason I’m heading to another foster home is because my previous one just couldn’t take care of me, they were the nicest parents I had since I’ve been in foster care. Ever since my parents died I’ve been bounced around at least five times. I’m thirteen right now but I turn fourteen in a couple of weeks. Thankfully they always put me in the same school district so I wouldn’t have to keep taking placement exams or getting new friends.
My caseworker is this elderly lady named Ms. Steuben. Right now, she is taking me to one of my teachers’ house. I never thought about any of my teachers outside of school, honestly, I’ve never really cared. But the one teacher that I liked was Mr. Colton. He was cool and really cared about education. He was an awesome math teacher who helped me pass a few more of my classes. He always asked how I was doing and ask me about my newest set of foster parents. After the latest set couldn’t take care of me Ms. Steuben told me I was going to be fostered by Mr. Colton. I’m excited to live with someone I knew and who would really give a damn about me. This journal came from my last foster parents, the only other ones who cared.
Well let me go we’re pulling up to a nice-looking house now, there’s Mr. Colton standing outside with another guy, maybe it’s his brother.
Entry 2
Well damn, I did not expect that. Turns out the guy that Mr. Colton was standing outside with was his husband. I didn’t think he was gay, or rather he didn’t look gay, damn that’s not sounding right however I write it. I’m not homophobic, my buddy Phillip is gay and he’s basically my best friend. Like me he was a foster kid but he got adopted. Anyway Mr. Colton’s partner’s name was Drew, that’s what he told me to call him so I figured I’d do that. They have a better house than I thought a teacher would. Drew was an architect though and apparently a damn good one. He’s funny too, I’ve never felt at home before with a foster couple but for some reason, here I felt like I belonged. They were both awesome cooks as they had lunch out and ready. They were the most delicious tacos I’d ever had. My room was even better than my previous ones. They asked me if there was anything I needed and for some reason I broke down and started crying. Great, hardly an hour here and I’m already bawling my eyes out. After calming me down I had to explain that I’d never had this much stuff since my parents died. They hugged me and it felt so right.
Entry 3
Well today has been the best day of my life since my parents died. Drew and Mr. Colton (he told me to call him Tom, but I can’t do that he’s my teacher!) took me shopping and bought me clothes. As much as I protested they told me that they wanted me to have some nice clothes for when we went out to eat so I relented. Its rally hard not liking these guys, but I can’t help wondering when the other shoe would drop. I’m not very much of an optimist so I didn’t see this lasting long, but I’ll make sure I can make the most of it while I’m here. After the shopping trip we went out for pizza. It wasn’t your average pizza parlor it was kind of fancy and I couldn’t decide what kind of pizza to get so I told them to surprise me. They brought out an awesome chicken pizza with a fantastic tomato sauce with basil and garlic. God, it was the best pizza I’ve ever eaten. After we got back from pizza we put all my stuff up and just watched tv. I sat between the two and felt better than I have in eight years. I’m going to go to bed now, and hope when I wake up I won’t find out it was all a dream.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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