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- 10/04/2017
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J.A.M. - 2. Chapter 2
J.A.M.
By Wesley Evans
Entry 4
Well I’m awake and I didn’t dream it! I’m actually here with my teacher and his partner. Thank god it wasn’t a dream. I’ve only been here for barely a day and its better than all my other foster homes combined. You’re probably wondering why I’ve gone through so many foster homes. Well only once was me being moved my fault. My first foster home was shut down because it turns out the foster parents were neglecting their charges and weren’t using the stipend on the kids but instead used it for booze and drugs. So that was my first experience in a foster home, to say I was unimpressed was an understatement. The second one was a little better. The only problem with it was overcrowding. There were so many kids that they had to trim down on the number. The third foster home was my fault. What happened was Phillip came over one day and while we were playing their natural kid came and started to harass us calling us butt buddies and fags. He ended up with a busted lip and a black eye. His mom immediately called Ms. Steuben and said I had beaten her son and would not have a ruffian staying with her and her fragile son. That led me to my last foster home. I was with the Fords for a little over a year before Mr. Ford had a stroke. That led to him being homebound and Mrs. Ford just couldn’t take care of both of us. I understood this and didn’t hold it against her. She encouraged me to write in this journal and it makes me feel better when I do. It also helps me feel closer to the only other woman who was near a mother to me. Uh oh better go they’re calling me for breakfast.
Entry 5
Well this morning was a total bust. Breakfast started out great home cooked waffle with fresh fruit. That’s when it started to go bad. Apparently, I’m allergic to strawberries. One minute I’m eating waffles and strawberries and the next my throat starts to get tight and I can’t breathe. So, after a short ride in an ambulance and a few injections of an epi-pen and then I’m fine. Mr. C and Drew just kept apologizing and for once in the last eight years I realized I have a family again. Drew has known me for less than a day and he treats me like his son. Mr. C has always treated me like that, even before my parents died. I guess I should explain that I used to live next door to Mr. C before my parents died. Apparently, after they died he decided to move. I still haven’t figured out why he did that though and he won’t discuss it with me. It’s kind of strange though I keep catching him looking at me. I don’t know why I’m a scrawny little nerd, hell I probably didn’t even weigh one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet.
After getting back home (man, does it feel good saying that!), I was told to go get some rest while they made sure there were no strawberries left in the house. While lying on the couch I observed them and saw that they loved each other. they worked in sync almost perfectly. For some reason I just felt drawn to Drew. I mean he was funny, kind of handsome (cut me a break I’m thirteen I don’t know what I like yet but I do know hot when I see it), not to mention we are both total Star Wars nerds. I don’t have as much in common with Mr. C though, which is weird because we never really had a problem talking or relating to each other. That’s ok though, me and Drew get along great. Well I’m going to take a nap before dinner.
Entry 6
Well that dinner was kind of awkward. Mr. C kept looking at me strangely the whole time, well he kept looking back and forth between me and Drew. The look on his face confused me and I didn’t know what to think. The dinner was awesome even if the looks were discomforting. After dinner I helped clean up and then we settled down to watch the first Star Wars movie (Episode IV not that crap one with that big eared dumbass). After finishing the movie I decided to go to bed. Before I go to sleep though it sounds like Drew and Mr. C are arguing, wonder what that’s about.
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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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