Melody walked the twelve blocks to the bus station with only a bookbag stuffed full of everything she owned except for her billfold that held her Voter ID card, state ID card, driver’s license, and $258.45. Tucked under it all was her birth certificate and social security card. Nothing remained at her foster parent’s house she had lived at for the last twelve years. She had no memories from the first six years of her life.
Her foster mom, who had been a gentle soul, told her that she had been dropped off at a local fire department beaten so badly she was hardly recognized for a girl. Her red hair had been shaved off and a boy’s t-shirt, blue jeans, and shoes were all that was left except the necklace that she currently wore. She had loved her foster mom, but she had died six months ago.
From that time her foster dad had drunk himself into oblivion. Every night she had to bar the door with a chair and listen to screams and shouts and cursing. The next day he always apologized and begged her not to leave. She had a few bruises each morning from the scuffle to escape him. She was tired of fighting. Her foster brother had left a month ago. Now she was walking away.